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Ashlyn Rimsky Dec 2020
When I say I like to play games,
I mean I like monopoly.
I mean I like rolling the dice,
Playing the odds and hoping
To land on something lucky.

When I get lucky
I land on free parking,
Like the kind on the street
Outside of your apartment.

I celebrate as I am showered
In more kisses than I can count.
I shove them down my throat
To negotiate with later.

As time passes we will
Trade them back and forth
Until every inch of space
Between me and you is occupied.

For a while we will be equal.
We will play nice. Pay small tolls.
Taking only what we are giving,
Trading for mutual benefit,

Growing from one another.
Building houses and visiting
One another's properties.
Not worrying about landing
On one space or another.

Slowly grassy fields turn
To sprawling developments.
Places that some people aim to be,
Make a family, one, two, three.

But we are not the type to, baby.
We will not stop for a white picket fence.
We have personal goals, for personal developments.
We are career driven people.

In the name of monopoly,
We will circle the board until we are dizzy,
Erecting concrete skyscapers one layer at a time,
Building walls stacked on walls
That scream to the sky

"Something was built here."

Something hard. Something heavy.
Something immovable. A concrete block
Concealing a once-grassy field.

I went to visit you there.
I found a ticket on my dash board.
I guess thats why you said you're fine,
But I am not.

These walls cost me a toll that I cannot pay.
I heard the only way to knock them down
Is if one of us loses.

Good thing "It's just a bored game."
Jamie Nov 2020
I knew I had an issue with some people,
But I never thought I would struggle with you
Sometimes I don't know what to say
And it turns into you shouting at me
I just sit there and I take it
Because I don't wanna make things worse

One day I won't just sit there and take it
And I fear what will happen that day
You say you hate conflict
But it seems like I hate it more
So I sit there and I take it
Because I don't wanna make things worse
sometimes this is how I feel
Evie G Nov 2020
Sometimes, your silence is a cold- blooded creature
Unpredictable, uncontrollable, unknowable.
How will I approach this prickly animal?
my hands hover,
unknowing

Other times it is a fireplace,
Warm from a far, but you know not to get too close.
My hands hover.

But today, your silence is a handwarmer,
Small, familiar and soft.
I’ll sit with it in my hand a while until it goes cold.
This is about a friend i have who's silence took me a while to understand, but of course interpret it however you will, use and abuse it, that's what poetry is for after all. Let me know your thoughts :)-
inspired by Jack Underwood's 'Sometimes Your Sadness is a Yatch'
Jack Radbourne Nov 2020
There are words that do not need saying,
Words that are wrong or cruel,
Words that lead others to fail or cry,
Words that are sweet words of betraying,
Words that flatter or fool,
Words that weave a maze in the head,
Words that tell a talent not to try,
Many of these there are, although
There are also words that need to be said:
You are the best word that I know.
Andy Chunn Nov 2020
I don’t understand the way
That hatred seems to rule
Every minute of every day
It seems to gain more fuel

Dave told us years ago
That “We Just Disagree
But now we choose to hate and so
No answers will there be

Cooperation is a lost art
Collaboration can’t be found
Real solutions will never start
When hatred still abounds.

There was a time not long ago
When opposite sides could talk
Design and ideas would flow
Our leaders walked the walk

That time is gone, it seems for good
And hatred rules the day
Discussions turn to attacks so rude
There’s nothing left to say

It seems that now we never find
When two on opposite sides
Disagree, but still are kind
To others far and wide.

“Agree to disagree” I’ve heard the phrase
And try to comprehend
That differences, like a smoky haze
Don’t make you hate your friend.

So take a chance, just try and see
You’ll help this world go round
Don’t hate because you disagree
And answers will be found.
the communication was lost between us
like a broken radio connection
the static was deafening
your voice
faded
into
nothing
a sad story
Andy Chunn Oct 2020
Tickle sweet
Will you
No
Why
Don’t
But
Please
Well
Sorry
Yea
Do you
Yea
Me too
Let’s get a burger
Seranaea Jones Sep 2020
-

a total instrument package
constructed with all of the
brain's carefully deliberated
intents channeled into them,

one transmits to another what
words will never enunciate
without a multitude of
sentences—

that which spoken
will never touch...



"the hands"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
rayma Sep 2020
Recipe for Disaster:
         1 cup blame, directed away from yourself
         2 tsp of emotional manipulation
         1/4 cup of freshly squeezed fake apologies
         1/8 tsp of spite
         3 cups of self-hatred, projected onto somebody else
         1/2 cup of anxiety, rooted in insecurity
         A pinch of miscommunication
         1 tbsp of false hope
         A healthy dash of passive aggression to taste
         A splash of whiskey
         -- halve the empathy

Directions:
         1. Combine ingredients and simmer until completely evaporated.
         2. Apologize and start again.
         3. Repeat steps one and two.
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