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Your journey has come to an end
Mourning for a soul no longer here
Love slowly will help wounds mend
In heart presence will never disappear
Trying to write a poem for the program for my mom's celebration of life
Let's celebrate the success
And enjoy the moment
Let's recount the problems
And how we solved them
But let's live for another day to celebrate

Let's satisfy the hunger
And dance to that banger
Let's toast to the dangers
And how we survived them
But let's live for another day to celebrate

Another day to drink
Another day to sing
Another day to drive
Another day to thrive
Let's live for another day to celebrate
Anais Vionet Jul 21
Lisa and I finally tested covid-free! When we saw our results, we began an impromptu dance that felt like levitation.

Although my covid case seemed much milder, Lisa’s been nothing but supportive. Why just yesterday morning, before we tested, Lisa said, “If you test covid-free before I do, I’ll **** you.” She was holding a spork which gave the threat a specific gravity it might otherwise have lacked.
“Back off, Sweeny,” I said.

We worked the next day, masked - just in case - and I’d swear that Rebecca, my surgeon, almost smiled when she saw me. As funny as Rebecca is, off-hours, once she puts on that white coat - forgetaboutit - she goes to some other, humor-free zone.

That night, we went out to our favorite bar to celebrate our Lazarus-like resurrections.

In the club, as we were walking to the bar, Lisa asked me, “What if we get carded?” I gasped. Never, have I EVER been carded. To even suggest the possibility is to risk breaking a spell that has lasted since I was fifteen years old and first walked in the adult-bar world.

It’s not that I look old, I’ve been told I don't look 21 (although I’m almost 20) - but in dark, bar-light - I just look “right,” like I belong. And let's face it, no bar turns away college girls or charges them a cover - we’re good for business.

I put a hand on Lisa’s shoulder and stopped us in our tracks. “Turn around three times,” I said.
“Why?” She asked. “To break the god-****, bad luck, vu doo you just put on us!” I said exasperatedly. She shrugged and started to turn in a circle. Again I took her by the shoulders, “Counter-clockwise,” I instructed, “don’t you know anything?!” Once she’d broken the jinx, we were free to go on.  The next part can only be poetry.

Behind the bar were shelves of bottles, brightly lit,
with pastel glows that shame the merely silver moon.
Red rums, golden bourbons, begging you to commit,
elixirs that dull every pain and brighten every mood.
Give us your tired, your lonely, and like Houdini
we’ll invoke fun with mystical treats like martinis.

We were basking in those lantern-like glows, like tourists, in heaven, when a bartender said, “What can I get you?” How generous those words were, how open and inviting.

“What’s your name?” I asked, he was wearing a name tag but I leaned in and gave him my friendliest smile. It’s important to establish a personal connection - but you can’t get carried away. He might be gay and decide you’re trailer.

“Brian,” he said. Brian was talking to me, but then he’d noticed Lisa and suddenly, he couldn’t take his eyes off her (Lisa’s an adriana). This bartender wasn’t gay at ALL.

I handed him my black, Centurion, American Express card “Can we set a tab for us?” I motioned to include Lisa, “and please include a 30% tip for yourself.” I smiled. He smiled.
“Oh, and there’ll be a gentleman joining us as well (Charles).”
“Sure.” he said, as he swiped the card on his iPad, adding, “now, what are you having?”

I’m a bit of a bon vivant, where cocktails are concerned but tonight, we’ll keep it vanilla.
“We’ll start with a Cherry coke (for Charles) and,” I looked at Lisa for approval, “Two American Martinis?” She smiled, “Please,” I added, putting my card away.
The coke is psychologically important; it gives the bartender what’s called 'plausible deniability.’
“Do you have a menu?” I said, as he turned to go. “Coming right up,” he said.

We were on a rooftop terrace that overlooked the Boston skyline. To the left, there were tables enclosed in glowing, geodesic bubbles that changed colors and off to the right, a dance space where couples were dancing, and a DJ was spinning ‘Sorja Smith’s - Little things.’

Our drinks arrived and Lisa and I laughingly toasted our covid survival.
At that moment, at least, everything seemed right with the world.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: A bon vivant:  a person with cultivated and refined tastes

sweeny = sweeny todd, the murderous demon barber of fleet street (Sondheim musical)
forgetaboutit = ‘forget about it,’ best said with a fake, somewhat racist, Italian accent.
trailer = as in trailer trash
adriana = a stunningly gorgeous girl
Anais Vionet Jul 4
It’s a firework holiday,
so let’s light up the night,
wave the stars and stripes,
eat barbecue and drink bud light.

We’ll celebrate the liberties
that SCOTUS says we’ve got
it appears they’ve all been bought
and before their terms are over
they’ll resurrect Dred Scott.

Watermelon, hot wings
we’ve even added new things,
like smash & grab lootings
and frequent, random shootings.

Some Republicans want to break away
to form a less perfect union
can you form a successful nation
based on the politics of illusion?

There used to be parades
I’m told, that featured local
things, like firefighting brigades
I guess we’re just to fractured now,
to sashay in such displays.

I bet those were the days.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Sashay = proudly walk in confident display
Anais Vionet May 10
Ever snorted *******?
I watched some partiers snort ******* last night,
in a dark, Manhattan nightclub corner celebration.
But I’ve never crossed that line. The white line.

When offered some, with unctuous camaraderie,
I shrugged and said, “No, sorry, I’m allergic.”
What are you supposed to say, “Crack is whack,”
or “I prefer my coke with *** and ice?”
The white line. I don’t cross the line.

It’s not the first time, of course, I saw more drugs
in high school than I have at Yale. I’ve mostly seen
“study drugs,” there, like provigil, adderall and alza (concerta).
Do they give students an advantage? I don’t know, maybe.
Call me a boxcut or a squarepants, but my parents are doctors,
and I just don’t cross those lines - those little white lines.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Unctuous: “an obvious, fake friendliness”

Slang: ‘boxcut’ ot ‘squarepants’ = a square, a no fun party-pooper

*I use artistic license for colors: for instance, adderall can be a blue, orange or yellow pill.
Shofi Ahmed Feb 20
The moon amidst
the celebrations of stars
still in its proverbial stance
only the eye no fingers!

If there ever a moment of flower
let it be today the rose
in the tips of the fingers!
Alex McQuate Jan 22
Mediocre rhythms,
Mediocre rhymes,
Where is it this road heads?
Take me to where the Mary Jane grows like dandelions,
Where the magic mushrooms lay thick like a carpet on the floor.

Who gives a **** where the future lay,
20 years down the line,
'Sept what regrets one has about not livin,
Grabbing the tail of the tiger of electronic sonic sound,
Flying through the airwaves so fast it makes your cheeks flap like a 90's cartoon.

Give it your all and leave your reservations at the wayside,
Cuz we aint stopping to ****.

Spend your nights as an outlaw,
Fly by the seat of your pants,
Give a down-on-his-luck feller the coat off your back,
He sure as hell needs it more,
Curse up a storm,
Yell up to God,

Call me manic,
Call me a *******,
Call me a brilliant man,
Carry my cold corpse to a pine box and dump it in,
Cuz I plan on saying ******* to the funeral industry,
Let the worms and the bugs have my bag of meat,
Carry on and sing a song,
Have a shot and chug a beer in my memory,
Sing a drunken song and cheer.
Zach Bryan- Heavy Eyes
Muhammad Ali Jul 2022
Eid Mubarik to you my Fatima Gul
my angel, my forever most beautiful
you’re the sweetest, the love of my life
my world enchanted with the joy that’s rife
all the words won’t ever suffice
for i may not ever be able to describe
of how wishful life became for me
to live with you, a perpetual love spree
I sit here blushing and maybe shy
I, with even that mere thought, fly
thinking i’ll narate what i always want to
on every special eid when i’ll wish you
can’t wait for our eids together
as if surrounded by your feathers
and all my worries scatter and smother
with your love and care I’m covered
when i say that know that it’s true
it’s because of you and only you
it’s only for you that i make it through
and it is for a forever I promise to do
By the magic of the stars above you
I love you, I love you, I love you
I do and I always will
for there’s nothing for me
that is above you

3rd May, 2022
Our first meethi Eid Together of all to come for the rest of my life
Odd Odyssey Poet Jun 2022
Disengage; why diss an age for not being at the same
pace of your particular race,
Disarray; what play do you stand for in the game of
fitting in life's tight space,
Display; is on every man's pride on the wall;
painting the bricks you've built on false confidence to portray.

In these days pretending we're all okay,
"how are you really," we should really tell our cherished people,
But the words are too heavy to say. Too heavy to be brave,
too ashamed to pray. The African mindset of sitting on a
journey's first step, and yelling, "God will make a way"

We're far away from the potential we choose not to chase,
a waste of yourself. ******* attitude; rotting the mind to
decay. Calling the black and white lines, yet we're forcing
ourselves in between truth and lies. Life is grey.

Life is strange, life is wonderful, but at times a cause of
man's dismay. Still cherish it for it's all, and appreciate today.
It's someone's birthday today, anywhere in any moment. So
celebrate each moment like the event we all cheer,
"hip hip hooray"

Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2022
Fireworks flash bright
Sky flowers blooming above
Dazzling night lights fade
High above is a world of color
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