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 May 2016 Ree Bunch
gray rain
No meaning
in being

No identity
inside

no emotion
no feeling

just numbness
undefined

heavy
and full

life is
just dull

nothing
no thought

emptiness
it aught

to be
fullness

of nothingness
of nothing
 May 2016 Ree Bunch
Got Guanxi
When these guns salute
they’ll need roses
when the metal pops,
stemmed from the truth until the last petal falls off,
but theres no romance in the commotion of the outspoken,
left broken torso twisted into specific yoga poses,
body’s go missing of the scene like a mystery, it’s hocus pocus,
This is a cold one (cauldron) it’ll get mixed until the remix surfaces,
on track here to defeat your purpose,
crush the trachea so you can’t breathe,
they got no Eyedea (idea)
Everyday, this is one of the seven deadliest, akin to a swarm of locusts,
they lose focus in the colloquial informality of the death chosen,
expose fossils fools (fuels) make them leave earth like a Diplodocus,
awoken from a deep sleep with deep heat to the exposed wounds,
so many bodies left in old tombs we gonna be needing some more room soon.
something different - not a poem
 May 2016 Ree Bunch
Denel Kessler
The thaw begins with a drip,
builds to a roar, subsides to sunlight
prisms playing over every surface

illuminating still-wet velvet wings
maroon and yellow, neon blue
pseudo-bark underneath.

In the clear-cut, pink fireweed
pierces a sky alive with souls
reveling in their last year on earth

sampling nectar with newly curled
tongues while summer degrades
to fall, burrowing in the cool

damp cord of fir put up for winter
awakening in spring, tasting summer
before the reprieve, too soon over

time come to fold
battered wings, to slip free
of this mourning cloak and rise.
 May 2016 Ree Bunch
jane taylor
raindrops faintly laughing as they prance
                                                along the leaves
watercress dancing gently twirling slowly
                                                          in the creek
a deer’s neck softly brushing like a whisper
                                                           against a tree
the sun is rising in the forest with hushed tones
                                                             of red on green
a brusk barista whose soul is wounded wants to cry
                                                               but bravely greets
the first blush of sweet dawn's morning ignites resplendent
                                                     ­                             things unseen
                                 

©2016janetaylor
 May 2016 Ree Bunch
GaryFairy
canyon
 May 2016 Ree Bunch
GaryFairy
living down here in this chasm
high hopes, no one has them
erosion has us sinking deeper
and these rock walls just get steeper

at the bottom of this rocky gulch
in dryest hopes, we endulge
living in this deep ravine
we are somewhere in between
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