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Dana Miller May 2019
Life in this age is getting up every morning
And trying to feel like everything is okay.
Good school, perfect grades, living the dream
At least that’s what they would all say.
But living in 2019 means growing up every day
And seeing your mom totally vanishing away
Drug use, crime, violence all the time
Knowing there is nothing you could have done to change that time
Living in a home where true evil resides,
Threatening and abusing your mom every single night.
She’s finally away, at least in some degree
But you can’t help but worry every day that some morning you will get the call
“Your mother has been murdered” for you have feared that all along.
Push that thought away – get it out of your mind
Ruminating on these thoughts will not be kind.
Utter despair is looking at your 10 year old brother
And knowing the true state of his condition
Knowing it is not simply a minor predisposition.
Knowing full well that he is confined to a death sentence, but living.
Fearing that everything you’ve been trained to learn is true
There really is no true help or salvation for the likes of you.
Predestined for more violence, crime, and apathy
What a truly waste of life with such finality.
You know from your past this life isn’t for you
So you try to set out and make a better life too.
But the past has a funny way of creeping in your life
No matter how hard or tall a divider you set to fight.
Heartbreak is seeing a movie and coming out to 10 missed calls
Your mom failed a drug test – she is now inside 4 plain walls
Designed to confine “others” who are fundamentally different than we;
How could we let such chaos engulf the rest of society?
2019 is full of hypocrisies.
Corruption exploding in all of our democracies.
Living in an earth fundamentally dying
From pollution and waste we accumulated from trying
To “make the world better.” But, what have we got?
Inflation, rising debt, poverty for so many in rot
Rise of mass incarcerations and unequal fairness for all
An economy and systems corroded from the core
Driven by greed and destruction, bias and more
That so many will slide off by saying “oh you’re just crazy”
“The world we live in really is not that hazy.”
2019 is no longer having relationships with your family
Because they honestly couldn’t care less about you.
Ask them to name anything of value about your life or self
And they will flounder over the question, like they had just been dealt
To answer questions regarding the status of time
Or the invention and creation of our solar designs.
So, forget it you say
You don’t really need them anyway.
Why have any feelings when nothing cares for you?
Not the world, not your leaders, the economy, or your family too.
Because any one that truly loved you would not break your heart in two.
But you can’t be totally apathetic, even if you want
So 2019 is all about caring a bunch
About those around you
Who’s actions you have no choice
But affect you – regardless of your lack of voice.
So you try to shrug it off and live through day by day
And hope that tomorrow, and forever, will be better anyway.
Nat Lipstadt May 2019
the spring mantra arrives with distinctive citified sparkles

a family of ducklings splash, mimicking young children,
shaking, spraying, squeaking, babies bath bathing,
jumping in and out of a fountain pool
of a tall-storied Manhattan apartment building,
the mother-leader attends them well for she recalls
the untimely end of the babies of last year,
lost to wanderlust on York Avenue,
cars and taxis as instruments of mass murdering,
but new spring is the season of new birth

the Cercis Siliquastrum tree trunk (!) oddly sprouts
unusual pink flowers
well before it’s branches grow up into a fully blossoming tree,
a signed spring time ritual, but since it is a/k/a, the Judas Tree,
we wonder if spring hints of Cerci Lannister’s fate betrayed,
in this, her final May dance, oh, which Judas brother/lover
will bring us a winter fin finale

the temperature control dial busted, the variability too wide,
the youngers are skipping the interregnum season,
going direct to elect shorts and T-shirt, while those who no longer bloom in the semi-warm, recall the wet chill of past evenings,
voting to dress defensively, wearing their aging skepticism
aware that all changes are exact crossing line-defined, wrapped in
medium weight coats, concealing embarrassing gloves in pocket,
decorative silk scarfs for non-decorative purposed,
all betting the under/over the spring is here all-in not yet sighted

the streets are busy, the momentary pleasantries
of warm sky and sun push the apartment dwellers out,
a magnetic force pulls us to the outside to exhale, in order to inhale,
guises manufactured excuses appear, a loaf of bread, a latte necessity,
the children desert happily their wintery confinement,
by pushing their own carriages, containing in their stead,
their lilting accented nannies, excited by their version of spring break

Me? toy shopping for this month brings rashers of birthdays,
more May galorey, singing come Dancer and Prancer, Ian and Isabel, Alex and not-a-baby anymore Wendy, and because the weather so pleasant, cautions ignored, the credit card swiped repeatedly, frequently and joyously, xmas reimagined, another May time ritual, rooted in the September month of *******, of staying warm, staving off winter *******, and winter planting for spring harvesting

children score grand-multiplicities for god made in his place
grand parental substitutes, each with two hands each equal,
so both must be filled with maypole ribbon, brightly colored
toy bags, presents wrapped in paper unicorns and all manner of
sporting *****, as we turn 2 and 6, 7 and who ate 8?

all that my eyes did see when we surfed strolled the streets,
vignettes fell like the spring rains, they, now, from daytime banished,
to after-midnight to do their breast feeding of tulips and weeds,
letting little children grow up snuggling in still over-heated rooms,
naked legs kicking off winter blankety snow remnants while dreaming of springing onwards and forward
into the party of life by inhaling nature’s

nature.
5-3-19  606pm
EmperorOfMine May 2019
I'm finding it hard to go to sleep
I lost my farm animals, i'm absent of sheep
Finding light is a gamble on a path coated in the night
A battle against the demons and mind, a war i'm forced to fight
Tears streaming down, silently waiting to die
Can't tell you why I sit here and uncontrollably cry
As the dirt comes from land to sink dust back in time
I lose to the curse and lose something so dear of mine...

..And now i'm in bed, sobbing, because...i'm not fine.
Lonerblues Apr 2019
I’m tucked between the ruggedness of wired fences and tugging hands
Grasping my heart with hungry fingers ready to rip in shreds
I’m tired of feeling so lost beyond words
By men that love to throw me on the ground with worms.
EmperorOfMine Apr 2019
Honestly, I don't know
Some dead and numb, and some left to sew
Cold sweats in this chaotic energy flow
I don't believe I've ever been in a place so low

Does the moon depress when the sun shines its light
When the tides collide like they're all ready to fight
In a darkened world coated by our human blight
There's no fixed star or light to guide me through this hellish night

When did reality start to feel like it became a game
Losing loved ones, like money, as if they both were the same
If bad luck gave attention, guess I'd be drowning in fame
Lacking grip to my sweating, can't tell if I'm really sane

I'm not well, i'm so lost, losing to this circle of hell,
A pattern stuck onto me, maybe i'm stuck to a spell
A world of hurt doesn't shock me, it's where I usually dwell
I wish I could provide better, but i'm broken, can't you tell
Aditya Roy Apr 2019
I will use the water
In your bowl
Lighting a fire in a cave far away
Flower your soil
Make it a garden of bouquets
Of petunias and water lilies bright as the dark lakes
In some functional world
Where we can be together
On the rivers,
By lake shores
There are plenty of chores
That water bowl is empty
As the heartbreaks are plenty
There are no chances of surviving in this
Fine, the old town of wars and running soldiers
That's the title of my next *** tape
As the wishes for borrowing instances from a stranger's eyes
And there is no choice of friendliness in the eyes of comeliness
Tempered by the bruises
By the brawning raucous youth
There is no race for money
There's only looking for plenty of currency
EmperorOfMine Apr 2019
I just want you to ask me if I'm okay.
But when I tell you my heart, you look away.
Don't get nervous when I try to disappear.
I just don't know what it is that you fear.

If diamonds are in the rough,
Then I guess our connection is full of them.
Our genre is a heartbreak if this was our final film.
It's like we're playing a game to find out what to say.
But if you don't see it, my voice has left me today.

I just want you to help me not to decay.
But you act like i'm a fire to your spray.
As Autumn sheds its leaves that fly through the coast.
I just can't help feeling like i'm a ghost.

I just can't help...feeling like i'm...a ghost.
KE Apr 2019
we didn’t love each other, but
we loved wasting time.  loved
pretending to be the sun in the
big blue sky, loved dressing up
in stars and charading through
midnight hours, like a summer
love song.  

we didn’t love each other, but
for a moment we could almost
pretend we did. could believe
that somehow we were these
untouchable g o l d e n promises
and we were just trying to make
believe that lies were fairytale villains
we could

--actually escape.
3/30

Written for NaPoWriMo 2019
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