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 Oct 2024 Steve Page
Crow
Rise
 Oct 2024 Steve Page
Crow
wind shuffles
through the long grass

seeded heads
drowsy
in the percolating afternoon

broiled air
heavy and lethargic
laboriously ascends
its unseen ladder
into the barren sky

Arcady sings
from a place
of unimaginable height

the song
is a whisper
at the precipice

I am the wing
that awaits your breath
to take flight
 Aug 2024 Steve Page
Chloe Haas
My periods turn to semicolons
My suicide notes to poetry
My goodbyes became hellos
The blades turn to sunflowers
And the bullets, a rose
My heart still is broken
But the pieces have been found
Death isn’t for me anymore
What is, in the here and now
I still don’t feel enough
But I am alive
And that’s enough to say
Today is not the day I die.
This isn't a poem.  It's an invitation to check out
my youtube channel where I read my poetry.  Hope you like it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE
There is a gravity to
sadness; it pulls me
downward into a
deep dark well.
I can't climb out.
It's my own private hell.
I pray for levitation.
I jump, only to fall.
I feel forgotten.

I put one foot in
front of the other,
and I will rise.
I move on.
Hope returns like
a long lost friend,
and I find my sanctuary.
I have 2 and a half weeks sober  I went to the hospital and had 2 withdraw seizures.  I fell and hit my head, I got a concussion and a small brain bleed, I am hopeful.
 Feb 2023 Steve Page
Kanishka
I didn't feel like writing today.
I was afraid I'd say the unsaid.
I dont wanna face the truth,
I dont wanna give up on us.
Why cant you come back to me,
And be the way it's supposed to be?
But alas I'm a poet. I must write.
 Dec 2022 Steve Page
Keith Wilson
(11 May 1934 -November 2022)

Mister Wilson, salt of the earth
a peaceful poet, embarks on rebirth
His charm, his wit, his humble wisdom
We honour now with candle lit
A gardener of words and of the land
May he be led lovingly by the hand
to a place full of foxes and robins
with trees, flowers, and crystal clear waters
May he find there all he loves dearly
As we celebrate his life and see his heart more clearly
Sweet dreams to our dear friend
You are in our hearts, our love we send

THE SMELL OF PURPLE


she says
she can
smell yellow


she says
she can
smell blue


despite
not being able to
spell either colour


“Yellow smells the same as blue.”
“...like a wet kitty
drying by the fire


red smells like
Mummy
when she kisses


her kisses
smell different
when she kisses you


then she smells
like flames
with little orange tips


purple is my favourite smell
it smells just like
a magic spell!”


I kiss her
goodnight
like lilac(only lighter)


with little flecks
of purple
scattered here & there
 Aug 2021 Steve Page
My Dear Poet
When I die, bury me on my belly
Lay me down flat, below those above
So when I’m gone, they’ll know
I never turned my back
on the ones I love
Jack paid a visit
to our township overnight
leaving his white frost
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