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 Feb 2020 r
Cynthia Jean
Don't believe everything
you hear.
People are being
brainwashed
by the tellers
of tales.
History teaches us
"if a lie is repeated
often enough,
people will believe it."
Let us have
ears to hear,
and eyes that see.
May our ears  and eyes
be open
to the truth.
Not just the tellers
words,
but provable facts.
We must each make an honest
search
for the truth.
Don't
let someone else
do your
thinking
for
you.
May we all
wake
up.

Cynthia Jean
copyright
February 8, 2020
 Feb 2020 r
cigarette daydreams
Immobilized by frozen eyes,
a gaze of amazement,
trailblazers on the pavement,
the worlds in my basement,
to face them, embrace them,
no need for replacements,
'cause greed turns to hatred,
they made it, I crave it,
but I don't have to fake it.
 Feb 2020 r
cigarette daydreams
Angel eyes and a devilish smile.
A breath of sighs and an enigmatic tower.

Questions with no answer,
dead silence filled with pointless banter.
A painful truth in an aching chest.
Sharp words, an intimidating alias.

A cold head and disfigured thoughts.
Reasons and answers - satisfaction out of tremor.
My home has been torn by hurricanes,
over-worn by hopelessness.

Was I the poison? Or was I the cure?
How would I know? I'd never be sure.
I turned into a menace 'cause of this empty existence.
 Feb 2020 r
touka
mother
 Feb 2020 r
touka
and there she is

widows-thrill
or devil's backbone,
some sort of specimen
hog-tied to the sediment

combs her hand
with nails bit past the quick
through her hair
til she thinks there's not one incongruent strand

dragging her feet
down the primrose path
off on the hard way into heaven

I know I'm good for something
I just haven't found it yet
 Feb 2020 r
touka
paroxysm
 Feb 2020 r
touka
she must be in such pain
I always think
I always, always think

but still her ire gets the best of me

her pain is not quiet, not to me;

it's thrashing, kicking
screaming, crying, willing
to wring the garrote
of her small hands
around my neck

it's her quivering lip
spilling forth short "I'm sorry's" and
calling for my embrace
and then her small frame turning
to drub on the same wounds again,

again,
again
again, again
again again again again—

the flame's rising
and rising,
and I'm quick to rush in!
but I'm too small,
like spit on the fire

it's too hard,
it's too hard,
it's too hard


and even more I ruin my size

tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
tomorrow, tomorrow

there is always tomorrow

like I'll wake up
with my wounds gone
 Feb 2020 r
Nat Lipstadt
love gripped light

~ for r, sleuth of life ~

you sleep with a metal detector,
unearthing dreamed artifacts,
that messenger many fates of many young,
belongings of dead men living again

and

of a living solitary man, a vision of him, envisioning,
dancing on a property line dividing
immortality dreams
and finality schemes

dead men living,
these different men, haunting and roaring, sighing pointlessly,
speaking to you alone, pithy commentaries, they, predecessor poets,
someone’s ancestors inhabiting a soil world familiar, awaiting we too

you whip yourself over life’s lost campaigns,
where strategy proved insufficient,
lost to men and materiel superior in numbers,
the hearts that were captured, imprisoned, stolen,
and worst, lost by grievous bad judgement human weak,
your dreams are you own artifacts, recovered

long after the battle smoke clears, you remain,
questioning not the how, where or when, only
was it worth it? and so sadly,
you answer yes.

you keep a record of your poems, losses,
each battlefield has no victors, only losses,
each poemfield has no victors, only losses,
it tires you so, to be guardian, the promise keeper,
you asked for burdens, you got just desserts awarded,
you share some, the ones under the pillow,
gripped lightly and tightly, simultaneously

with long distance lovers of your soul,
those you barely know, until met in red soil someday,
what matters it, they ken a kinship bond, and
love you oh so lightly

and they are

gripping you so lightly/tightly with the lightness/tightness
of words,
two book bound souls.
one shared spine...

2/10/20
100 Centre St.
NY Criminal Court
1:38
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