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Gideon Mar 8
I watched her become numb.
I watched as nothing reached
past the fog surrounding her mind.

The constant disconnect between her and everything around her scared me.
When she stopped smiling with her eyes, it scared me.
When she became unrecognizable, it scared me.

Her death was a surprise to no one.
But it was a relief to some.
She had been a bright light in so many lives.
Her radiance and color were unlike anyone else.
Watching it dull into gray fog made us feel
like the whole world was losing color.

The funeral was as solemn as her last few months had been.
Not everyone had seen her descent into dullness.
Her dementia-muddled mind was uninterested
in the friends and family who did come to see her.

She lived as a dear friend to me and many others,
but she died a stranger to all. May she rest in color,
and may the people she left behind always remember
her vibrant life.
If they doubt I'm so young,
But simply agree with the rest,
Does that mean I've finally reached a point,
Where I am so good,
There's only up?
Or will I come crashing down,
Is youth my key to fame,
Will they still read me when I grow old,
And this number fades away?
When my hair thins and grays,
Will my name?
Or will I pave my way to legacy?
My ink has a clock,
I'm afraid of it ticking down.
It's always been a question since day one.
Gideon Mar 8
Maybe I’ll be happy
Maybe when I’m twenty-five
Maybe I’ll be home
Maybe if I’m still alive

Maybe I’ll be different
Maybe when I’m forty-five
Maybe I’ll be content
Maybe if I’m still alive

I know I was hiding
I know I was only five
But I was not innocent
I’m surprised I’m still alive

I am now nineteen
I still feel scared and small
I am not the same person
I will try to stay alive
And maybe rescue us all
Gideon Mar 8
I love her, but her mind grows weak.
The doctors say she may have a month, maybe a week.
Together, we tell stories. Me, more than her.
The ones that we laugh at and half remember.
I don’t know what I’ll do the day that she dies.
“Together forever” really meant the rest of our lives.
I hope I’ll see her in the great everafter.
But until then, I sit with her and treasure her laughter.
Gideon Mar 8
After darkness fell, stars shone on the outside.
On Chestnut Street, he came to her bedside.
He sat by her deathbed, feeding her soup.
Her pale thin lips barely covered the spoon.
He told her stories he’s told her before.
She tries to breathe with ribs frail and sore.
After many hours, she falls gently asleep.
He hears her last breath and prays God, her soul, will keep.
She cannot grasp her shifting landscape,
With its muted morning lyrics
from both Robin and Cardinal.

What has dimmed today’s sunrise?
Her steps are shorter, her walk slower,
both signs she disregards
of her approaching twilight age.

She rests on her favorite bench
by the garden gate.
She finds no handle on the rusted bolt.

No entrance for her inspiring plod
among her realm of light and sound.

Sitting, she gathers courage,
new strength to
climb over the weathered fence.
Undaunted, she reaches
her limit. Her muscles feel lacking.

Accompanied by her mystic shadow self,
her playful muse mirrors what she feels: incapability.
Aging, capability
Carlo C Gomez Feb 23
Tar-dark world. The defining color is black, the inky night of her nocturnal hunts and the deep, bottomless dark of her alien retreat.

A watcher of men, she is everything and nothing. She might be too much of something, or too little of something else. Time will sort out the particulars.

There are no simple entry points – she demands engagement, and to be taken as a whole. Her discomfort is over her own allure, her undisturbed surface. It’s more about intuition and gesture than dialogue. They remain as echoes. They’ve made her beautiful in a real way, with hips and blemishes and dimples in her skin.

The imprint of the lives she begins to grapple with as her time on Earth extends, leads her to stop seeing herself as a mere conduit for her mission, and to start developing a sense of subjectivity.

Her life force is overlapping, shaping itself into a pattern of rings that simultaneously suggests a birth canal dilating, the stages of a rocket separating, and a lunar eclipse as seen through a telescope’s lens.

She's a life-form you can’t quite understand, but it’s carrying on relentlessly, like a beehive, moving backward through the constellations at first approach.
Tamara Walker Feb 23
It took 30 years

For me

To feel powerful

It may take

Another

To

Believe it
In 30 years where do you see yourself?
Tamara Walker Feb 23
I have lived 30 years

Living 30 years of experiences

All of them the same me
A reflection on turning 30 last year.
Ken Pepiton Feb 4
A sermon,
of a sort, one
of a kind classified

prosopopoeia literally
a form or figure of speech,
answering a proposed query,

who what when where or why.

Centering our attention on why,
I shall endeavor, as I have heard
sermocinators originally served

those lacking book learning

with oral interpretation
on duty and debt, et cetera.
Sermocinations.
So, to use the time alloted
to retie the tie binding duty
and honor to the story told

in generally Christmas and Easter,
congregations of true traditionalists.

Our duty,
after tariffs on attention paid
football and all ball based
forms fertilized and fed
with yeastyeatsweets
at local circuses,
- stuck in costume
- take the collar off
- symbolically we do
- all we have
- to do
- nada mas, the traditions
- the cultural square laws
- stacking steep or straight
cotton candy pink

and now, local news,
wherever you may think
we use magic wherewith we
- impose Jello time, allowing
- our posed media shared mind
- state works with thinking letting
- letters form words from thoughts,

Thunk,
enscribe truths heard in wordform
seen in letters long since become
common,
to any able ever
to think,
pen and ink,
at the rate of cursive text to
press to
whom, objective subject re
submission, to a public mind re
whom do we turn, verily we kind
we category of mankind, unsorted
remnemonic palaces of liturgical awe
into heform sheform weform, mixed us,
untried spirits, most of us never thunk once
we the receivers warming the pews, expecting

or saying we do. Amen.
Sermon sayers saying same preplanned response.

Riddle me a riddle, Zeke,
whose holy stories hide
behind discipline, price paid, most honed
duty engrained since first communion, accepted
as common sense since first witnessed
on TV,
by the now grandfathering endurers
survivors of the mind wars, religious wars,
and mindshare wars after all attention was

valued on scales we stagger to think
we tip over backwards looking up to think

how can I look through the JWST.
How can any not attempt
to grasp the expanse
crossed since Alamogordo,
epimethean destiny makes religamentation work.
Did we ever wonder if saying amen means anything?
Indeed, mental enmonic   -non sense there's no such
Mnemonic, e-lessly de
memory neuronal response tool re
taught in rhetoric courses all bishops take,
courses,
of course, all who feel such duty calling, take
the same courses through human events as we

listen, as the winds list,
as we lean into the rhetorical
oracle of certainty central
inside job creative theory,
no outside sapience needed
to shape us,
as a we
form
touch
the ruling point, mean middle
to existing
on Earth, as words alone,
after all's been said.
Dendritic silk
Told known done
by confessing having will
to believe,
-- thickened time is pudding's proof

reality and time and all those other clusters
of weform organized societies, where children learned,

by royal decree, all children need be Starlinked to vote,

say what? Say what you think
in plain text translatable
cognatively allowing globalized Macaroni poetic license,

you know what I mean,
but in other words,
we agree, base
mind we form,
we
reading for the fun of it,
to get the feel of words as common as get
gotten and forgotten tenthousand times today,

there is a river, many messengers attest, a flow,
the  mind form imaginable in holy tellings of knowledge

science true call using knowledge with science,
consci used as psi or psy or gno or know is used,

to think, just
stop/think

Ai, you know, I would, as wills being imaginably
done, you know, I would, if I were you, enjoy

the time it takes

to read with all new words, to think your self
just ified, made up in a mind, inside
at least infested imaginably
with many verbs, set
to respond

to sponsors calling all who see
to see the mark
of me,
my weform, my teamform, my loyalty defining we form,

from which,
howling poets ever were out cast,

alas, but the Greeks had a word
for everything, the logos set of all Logos Sets,

tinker toys
erector sets
electric trains, and guns
these were toys of rich little boys

in America, as seen on TV in Tijuana

Waves, gentle, thinking price to know, ra'
as a thought, high e to compute a worth, towb
beautiful

tapestries, tries, thinking
in cursive tip preserving,

delicate touch tip to lip,

Sermonic deontological slip

up yours, the local team roars
all laughing like we were involved
no delay, west wall sunny day Febru=
februarius mensis "month of purification,"

so, as sermons granted whole days to happen
as such must agree who followed today, as hapt

to seem strange, by design
a quest toward the very answer we expect.


--- mindhat pause
Literally letting words mean all they may
in actual Wikipedian translations thinkable
across the spectrum, we form to make our

point, why are we involving you, or me, for
that which matters does not matter much for me.

Kinda wanna think it madjathank at a point thunk.

Power On Self Test

Invest the rest of one day in a story,
to discern the point to this course through

known, by word of mouth, mostly, through
time barely rememorable, mostly among
Latch key syndrome urban and rural

recollectable signs we shoulda seen,
but life, particularly self fulfilling bets
put in the time to see the first Jubilee,

and for many, learning once, in truth,

trade in a band of brothers mythic honor form,
a we of honed most blades in service of science,
slicing ever more gently the material reality, as we
scratch the beards on old men faces
we wear to bed at night, and find on other
peacemakers, earth as it must be where peace
abides, in truth, not entertained unawares, peace
made thinkably possible if pride were devalued.

Perfectly said, one thought, I heard go ding.
We are on the same page here, there is one thing

past understanding,

kindness rules evolution, we hate to differ,
we love to conjoin realities we each have endured

this is us, once more, forming a big parade,
or a strand of the stuff we see weaving galaxies

at scales only minds unbound by letters relax
loose
bowels of courage gut felt punched, too often,
gnoshit, Forrest Gump hit a nerve.

Whose is the audience, since all the world's
our stage, all active words advance

on step up, two steps back, onstep up, and so on…
element after loving simple long enough, you see
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