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 Aug 2020 r
Ken Pepiton
It is true one mind sees bloodsport in the heavens
and cringes in dread of feeling
kindly, like if that were me, what would I do but die?

nada, right, pass on

thank y'mam, feeling kinda woozy, ever after
seeing
2020 on TV…

Google the violence, ohshitnoknowknow we all know
enough evil to know it don't work like on TV, ever
after one burn, you know, fire works, every time,
to destroy at the touch

thunder, such a holy sound in the desert summer moment
on earth, around the middle,
not too cold in the winter
makes too hot to work in the summer, just
fine.

That's right. Life is like that, if you live in the right state of mind.

Back to the Future, once more, it is
always on or in the library,
ask libby, who in the whole world
before

my generation… we who did not get
stuck wishing we would die
before we got old…
who among us now is we the people minded?
Post war knower bubblers expand
until we pop like matured
pods of what people can be if we live this long.

Trouble your own house, inherit the wind,
as part of the meek inheritance agreement accepted
with the weather.

Earthlings all, hear ye, severe storms are part of the deal.
Free ticts to ever after on Bucky Fuller's spaceship,
Sagan's pale blue dot,
live to tell

we learned no lie may be belived and be survived.

We first saw earth from the moon.
More boomers blew minds beyond their
own imaginings, back then,
listen in radioman's
morphic broadcasts
from Khai Vinh,
the fishnet factory,
legendary - now ifier loosed for the attention paid

do you hear what I hear?
did we know the meaning in happy Sisyphus,
or did we find it known and tag along?
Like a rolling stone.
I heared once the Rock thunders as it rolls past the apex of a cosmic journey
 Aug 2020 r
Norman Crane
Summertime
 Aug 2020 r
Norman Crane
I am white clouds
Immobile
Blue sky drifting
Apart from me cicadas buzz loudly
Bare back on hot cedar planks
Mindfulness in bloom
Ideas like dandelion seeds
Arise before floating beyond the roof line
I am time—
The lawnmover engine turns,
reality returns.
 Aug 2020 r
Stephen E Yocum
There is always a breeze or
wind from the Mountains East
or the Ocean West at our place.
We are in between you see.
Winds Bracing in Winter,
Welcome in Summer.
Never smog, fresh
clean unspoiled
country air, bringing
relief from the heat and
pleasant restful naps on
the porch outside.

What a fortuitous geographical
stroke of luck, I did not plan it,
it just worked out that way.
A bonus that came with the land.
Even a blind squirrel finds
a nut once in a while.
Yet another sweet moment
in time felt ,observed and
recorded. If we can not get
excited about these little
things in life then we must
be dead already and don't
know it. Happiness being where
you find it. When I brought
this property I did not know
about the breeze or wind, that
was a later discovered bonus.
 Aug 2020 r
n
modern lohengrin
 Aug 2020 r
n
this is the first wedding i've  ever attended  where i have to pick out a formal mask

to  look good for the pictures and not **** the grandparents
 Aug 2020 r
Carlo C Gomez
Growing up
She loved staplers
They kept things together
Nothing was ever lost

  Then one day
  Mommy & Daddy
  Became unstapled

Now she favors scissors
They cut things apart
So many things lost
Starting with her
 Aug 2020 r
Kay
Writers Block
 Aug 2020 r
Kay
Staring at blank pages
Wanting to write again
Staring at my phone
Hoping for a friend

At least out of this
I've gotten one of two
For I could write a thousand pages
Before I could count on you
 Aug 2020 r
rayma
milk and honey
 Aug 2020 r
rayma
I looked up at you and thought
"wow, there is something to behold."
I poured libations of sweet milk and honey,
Listened with glowing eyes as you sang your words,
And I made my sacrifices by shining embers.

I smiled for Truth.
I smiled for good-heartedness.
I smiled in reverence for the idol before me.

The clever thing about faith
Is that it is whatever you need it to be.
When those shining embers crumbled into ash, I didn't cling to their fading warmth.
No - I realized the faith that I had been missing all along.

And when that idol came back to me
looking for sweet milk and honey,
I smiled,
For he will get no more sacrifice from me.
No - I alone will coat my lips in honey,
And I alone will hear my song.

And the idol, bespoiled of his worship, cried out.
"You cannot disobey me,"
He roared,
stripped of his dazzling charm.
I happened across this poem from around this time last year - I had forgotten about it. I wrote it while very clearly in the throws of the Ancient Greek section of my literature class.
 Aug 2020 r
rayma
holy grail
 Aug 2020 r
rayma
people say what’s lost isn’t coming back,
but I don’t believe that’s true.
                                                           ­  if they can search for the holy grail,
                                                          ­                     then I can search for you.
Another very old, repurposed one from 2015. I'm rather pleased with how it turned out, considering I've since made a folder for very old, very bad poems that are beyond repair, haha.
 Aug 2020 r
Carlo C Gomez
I.

This, a final offering,
before the clipping of wings.
A love like blood,
oh anathema.
A grey declined to black,
oh herem.

It means salvation
knelt with darkness.


II.

So it be!
So it be!
So it be!

Ring the bell,
close the book,
blow out the candle.

Douse the sacred sun
and find belief caught in fishermen's nets.


III.

In silence of angels,
climbing broken ladders,
no ascent, no longer.

Salvation has
knelt with darkness.
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