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 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Sam the lynx
Reflective suffering,
all so meaningless.
Life's but a reminder,
of how much it hurts.
cocktail
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Call me Oliver
A lie is worse (even when the truth is awful)
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Vish
Gone
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Vish
You shouldn’t have come if leaving was all you had in mind
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Wynter
December
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Wynter
December nights are
Longer, colder and darker
Stars, please bring me light
My first haiku
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Luna Lynn
karma
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Luna Lynn
i don't understand how you feast with the wolves
and partake in the festives of painstaking fools
but all the while feeding the devil his food
you'll find there's a plate that's been saved just for you
(C) Maxwell 2015
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Jo
you once told me why birds bless us with an early warning of morning
it's been so long, i've forgotten
when i hear the birds in the morning, i still think of you
really random poem. it was lifetime ago. anyway, i've been reminiscing about him a lot recently and this just sort of happened
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Poetoftheway
,how do you know when
(a human is too broken?)




<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 Dec 2018 Shi Em
Stephanie
i was reading my own poems













i cried.
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