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Nicole Oct 19
You gave me hope
In a time where I did not want it
Where I refused its glimmer
And was sealing my fate
With the kiss of Death..
All from a poem
You wrote
That
Probably
wasn't meant for me.
Jonathan Moya Aug 31
I like America’s Got Talent,

especially when they have dog acts.

I love dog acts.  I cry at dog acts.



I wish dog acts would bark and chase

those young kids and aspiring adults

who sing opera every year and

get into the semifinals off the stage;

chase the pretentious dance troupes

and acrobats; half-funny comics;

the children who sing lustily in adult voices;

the seniors with fading contralto dreams;

the day glow CGI artists who

illustrate on a big, dark canvas;

the magicians with their card slight of hand,

even the ones who just do regular magic—

right off the stage with a bark and

a push of their snouts.



Dog acts are pure.

They sit.  They heel.

They stay.  They obey.

They even sing, dance and draw too.



All acts should be dog acts.

All dreams should be dog dreams.



Every million dollar winner,

mongrel or pure bred,

should have a 100% canine heart—

even though they would trade it all

for a pat on the head, good treats

nice walks with you and belly rubs.
The Poet May 16
War the death bringer
Acts of destruction
Man causes genocide
As humankind tears apart

Nature brings life
It brings peace and knowledge
Man is oblivious to this fact
As man is too occupied causing pain

Split apart
But we are all the same
Stupidity smells upon our kind
As the cause of War is man
Your
kindness acts
as a house for me. Your
kind words make me feel warm
and cozy on                 the inside.
Even when                       there's a
  blizzard outside        my window,
   with      you      I      feel      warm.
What do you think? It's still just a draft, but I just wanted to get the thoughts of others.
Beatriz Couto Sep 2018
Let us dance to this new song
New instruments added
Chords never heard before

But do we know how to dance?
Will we just go with the flow?


We just went with the flow.
Another one playing
And there was born
A new type of dance
without asking for tangible receipts
but to pollinate greensward vis a vis
as pay forward recompense

many good samaritan instances
     came my way of late, yet
hive heal stymied, how
     unexpected gratuitous deeds didst whet,

a voluntary yen of mine
     to pay back or forward
     countless instances
     to balance out scale reciprocation

     doth weigh within mine conscious
     and/or subconscious
     giving back status unmet,
thus...this ambling, bumbling, fumbling,

     et cetera sensate **** Sapien able Juan
     Tim steady state Cane, tis ready and set
analogous to the tricks Seine (seen)
     by a rheas ease pond dint

     surveyed monkey smart pet
whom calculated thine net
total asper positive fortunate events this chap
     and or loved ones within mine family met

since years gone by to the present moment let
me experience minimal anxiety
     finds euphoric sensation within me (as if jet
     ting into stratosphere,

     and a counter force get
tin overpowering akin
     to a creditable conscientious debt
begging to be honored as a non boastful bet

among the better angels of thyself
     whom regulate acceptable, affordable, airing...
     agreeable, amenable, un arguable heartfelt
     good fella expressing deserved certifiable
     bona fied ardent

action demonstrating appreciation
     for innumerable, humbling deeds
done divinely deposing
     dada's depredatory, depredation, depression

     sans crucial life line feeds,
as genuine deep seated acknowledgement
     as proof emotional, financial,
     and spiritual bountiful personal necessity
     receiving such psychic receipts heeds!
Autmn T Apr 2018
I kept hush of the trappings of your watered down spirit so their ears would not bear the burning news. The flickers of innocence flashed its teeth as we wrapped our pinkies around eachother for the last time and promised to not let go. Four days after you walked, I laid my soul for eyes to greive upon, for hungry dogs to ravage my remains, slobbering like there wasnt enough on their plate to fill their expanding appetite. I wonder if on the walk back home you saw a daisy and thought of how you let that promise become as spoiled as my remains. I wonder if you plucked it, held it, and said how ravishing it looked, only to leave it with pulled roots.
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