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Maxim Keyfman Sep 2018
tired a bit
a bit tired
and again the muscles of the face
again rest do not give

but I'm tired
I'm a little tired
I'm tired of today
I'm tired of fatigue

01.09.18
It's mwe Aug 2018
We had plans
We got barriers
We took times
We own thoughts,
and egos.

We always wanted to win the fight
but tonight we did something right.

We know things moving forward
but (whatever!) we are happy afterward.
Seeing you won't hurt me anyway so yea i just did it.
Angel Turner Apr 2018
Do you know what I want
more than anything?

I want to understand why it takes
so much pain to be able to
describe in detail
how the sky bends.

I want to understand why you caused me to see your eyes as pale instead of piercing.

I want to understand why a pretty face and slim waist is valued over a higher understanding and a way with words.

I want to understand why something is considered beautifully written, just because it hurts to write.

I want to understand the world, but that's asking a bit much, so I'll settle for this:

I want to understand you.
I'd like credit Shane Koyzcan on the sky line, as it's a reference to one of his poems (To This Day).
Enjoy!
***
Dim Apr 2018
to stay young in your heart you first should have one
and you better fill it up with some love
just a bit
because love is the secret ingredient
the pursuit of justice without love makes you cruel
the pursuit of truth without love makes you a heckler
the pursuit of god without love makes you a bigot
the pursuit of beauty without love makes you Humbert Humbert
power without love makes you a tyrant
honor without love makes you arrogant
wit without love makes you cunning
work without love makes you tired
care without love makes you brusque
talk without love makes you annoying
seriousness without love makes you boring
tenderness without love makes you mawkish
friendliness without love makes you fake
so
you better spice things up with some love
just a bit
an average of 2,830 cubic meters

per second of rich silt

forms an alluvial plain

spreads outward in a fan shape


from sedimentary deposit whereby

ancient Egyptian civilizations got built

adorning arid topography invaluable

like aorta pumping blood at the nape

of the neck, yet analogous context


engendered engineering feats without guilt

whereby artisans, craftsmen,

early geographers illustrated in frieze and drape

frozen timeless statuary exhibiting

phenomenal abilities to the hilt


associated from mainspring within

fertile crescent swollen like a plump grape

which longest river often overflows

banks whereby coveted materiel gets spilt


feeding the rift valley and allowing,

enabling and providing peoples to dominate

flooding the history of mankind

with accomplishments that marvel even today

epitomized by innovations -


alphabets, wheelwrights, pyramids, etc lives did create

baffling historians how each mortise and tenon

snug as a bug in a rug mortise and tenon block

construed edifices persons did intricately lay


perfect with near geometric exactitude

ranks as wonder of webbed wide world great

faint hints of daily trials and tribulations

recorded for posterity in clay

or shards of broken pottery pieced together

coupling revelations a mosaic plate

which functional artifacts

provided dietary staples

to pagan spirits populace did pray.
Em MacKenzie Feb 2018
She walks away, colours tend to fade,
blending and mixing to a dreadful grey.
In another day, all decisions will be made,
With nothing left to do or left to say.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'll feel a little bit stronger,
regardless of what I lack.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to say goodbye.

I march along, to a beating drum but no song,
where everything is neither right nor wrong.
In another week, I'll lose the will to speak,
only listening to the floorboards as they creak.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
my memories will become fonder,
even though the past I'll have lost track.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to lie.

We continue on, as if there's nothing that is gone,
waiting out the night to see the dawn.
In another year, I'll still be standing here,
and honestly it's my hope but biggest fear.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'd put hold on my honour,
for too long the sky's been black.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to try.

If you'd stay a little bit longer,
until the sun comes back,
I'll feel a little bit stronger,
regardless of what I lack.
And a part of me will always die,
whenever I'm forced to say goodbye.
Connoisseur Of Ethnic Cuisine

Theme seems apropos during Holiday FancyFeasts despite the plethora of – in my opinion witching hunting - reputable male personalities suddenly accused of ****** harassment after substantial time. Yes granted so the unexpected name dropping felt like a bomb shell towards chaps, this baby boomer mwm would never suspect, point the finger, or accuse, especially one former Norwegian bachelor farmer from Lake Woebegone.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Though anonymous and hardly
a substantially sized mwm baby boomer
(which dual disadvantages partly explains
lack of ubiquity among claque of cooks, yet hoop full
to get attention from some well fed dame

many popular rotund gourmands l'chaim tame
their hungry beast – wa hood put me to shame
vis a vis consuming in their one meal,
what yours truly eats in a lifetime,
none of those celery buddies,

whom this non television watcher can name
seen on any selective cable channel,
I still revel in writing while
on the hunt
   (during Red October) for a meme

poetry and prose, and decided
to introduce myself quite lame
with NON GMO marginal uptick
in any sudden fortune or fame,
yet t'would be pleasantly syrup prized
if interest
from potential mistress didst exclaim

desire to enjoy a repast, though
said hypothetical gal need
not be a high society dame,
and if perchance such just desserts

came via the kitchen maiden kitty,
versus kit chin middens
no boastful claim
would be uttered by me,
her intellectual company satisfactory aim.
It's 9th of November; I'm the only one in my house,
But I heard a crackling from the outside; and suddenly there's a mouse.

I felt frightened; I wonder why there's a shadow.
I took a rod for just in case he would approach me; In just so sudden, I lock the door, so that he can't follow.

I asked myself why I was afraid; and I know for myself that there's no other person here... Except me.
I heard him again and trembled; what do I see?

I repeatedly heard him outside; and told me that "you're not alone".
I asked him who he was; and he answered me that he was just an "unknown".
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