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 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
Juneau
With the things that we know now,
and the knowledge we've lost.
you say things are better,
but what was the cost?

If knowledge is power,
then why are we weak?
Who's really in charge here?
Is the answer I seek.

We've become so corrupt,
conditioned with lies.
We watch our world suffer,
yet we can't close our eyes.

but there may be hope,
in my life time at least.
the wheels of Industry,
should be dead; deceased.

The banks will fall first,
and then comes the war.
But the sun will rise again,
out of the blood and the gore.

We will rebuild our homes,
only this time by hand.
No more machines,
will be made in this land.

It is not too late,
we can always restart.
rebuild nations a new,
but this time we'll be smart.
May 2, 2012
Tenth
 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
Juneau
on this boat I am safe as long as I can see shore
but that is not what I have built this for
I sailed out for adventure and a chance to explore
this place is too mundane I want something more
to navigate by the stars like in the times of yore
and find rubies and gold treasures galore
but first I must get there so I reach for my oar
and row into the unknown until I am sore
I look out to the east and the clouds I just abhor
the waves grow higher and the wind starts to roar
the clouds begin to light up and the rain starts to pour
a storm such as this one I have never seen before
and all this premonition I can no longer ignore
but I am not turning back I'll risk the ocean floor
August 30, 2014
Thirty-one
If these moments turned to hours before my eyes could blink
would I spend my precious time concerned what others think?
and if the months just spanned the years before I could forget
would I place more import on fears than life lived with regret?
then if this life just becomes death with no meaning left to find
should I let doubt become my focus and the captor of my mind?
The width and depth of the ocean
Winds my spine upward
Sending distress signals
Of the souls
Lost for eternity
In lust
Speaking of the wisdom
Once held in fortresses
Beneath the waves
Haunting dreams
I have yet to fathom
And the thoughts
That escaped my head
During the lonely nights
I think of you my dear,
In the gasp of breath
Reaching out
Lingering on
Without remorse
Please help this drowning disaster
 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
Saoirse
My eyes widen
I want to sweat you out of my skin
I dance
I talk
I do it to forget you

Manic
Dreams
Moronic
Answers
 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
JDK
These poems are for posterity (because mind-loss runs in the family.)
I dedicate all this poetry to my progeny, but most importantly,
to the one and only Future Me.
That old guy who's worn out and world-weary.
The one who's losing his memories,
and can't keep track of what he thinks.

These are all for you.

I'll record the lowest lows and highest highs.
Presented for the perusal of his (yours, my) rheumy eyes.
I might embellish at times -
I might even lie.
I just want to be able to look back and realize:
It's been an incredible life.
Remember Grammy.
In the world
I can get busy
busy mind
getting distracted

away from where
the centre is
away from where
what matters

this poem
these poems
we share

these poets
saying hello to poetry
keep bringing me back

to what's essential
to belonging

MChallis © 2015
 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
Steele
Is heaven content?
Through pious tears, we see truth.
Demons do not weep.
I don't normally delve into senryu/haiku. If I did it wrong, please correct me.
And yes, I have been on an Angels and Demons kick lately. So sue.
 Jan 2015 Porsche Newell
Steele
I don't know what you think of the word "wicked";
but where I come from it's a funny thing. It doesn't mean evil or sad.
We say "That's wicked cool." It's meaning rings the same as, "That's the ticket!"
Wicked means more; and more hope can't be all that bad.

I guess what I'm saying is, you're "Wicked" nice.
Despite your talent, your wall is full of other people's "Hope".
Vanity is certainly not your choicest vice.
Empathy, perhaps, would better fit the scope.

Your story's still being written down; I'm not sure where that path will stray.
I don't know if it will end in fire or ice- or if either would suffice-
but were Robert Frost here, (and from my home town) he'd say
"I've heard the name. That chick's wicked dope."
Thanks for being Wicked Cool, Wicked Hope
I've been meaning to thank Wicked Hope for being such a caring and kind member of the community, particularly in regards to all the encouragement and empathy she's given me over the past week. Since the challenge is out, it might as well be a public thank you.

In the famous words of Ron Burgundy, "Stay Classy"
Cheers,

Steel
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