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neth jones Sep 2021
the air is cooler      
      less kenetic and soupy              
           less aggressive with the mammal scent
safer (it seems) clean

        the skin retracts a little
                     less welcoming to dirt contact
                           my feet shift cooly in my sandals

the world awaits
             new temperament
Àŧùl Sep 2020
The absurdity of modern poets.
They don't use the rhyme scale,
But they use many cuss words.
And they think writing suchlike,
They look cooler than their peers.
My HP Poem #1885
©Atul Kaushal
Maria Mitea May 2020
just wondering,
while gravity takes over
the earth
into denser
underneath is
the cooler
the hotter
less dense
and takes its
on top
a phreatic eruption
the juvenile world
the surface
just wondering
Grab the keys
The truck is full
Let's head out
hit the road
It's Friday
Time to party
A teenage
secret code

Tweets are out
Friends are set
It's party time
We're going
out in secret
We'll be home
Before daylight

Going on a back road ride
Deep into the night
Going on a back road ride
It will be out of sight
Going on a back road ride
Won't be back until the morn
Going on a back road ride
In the fields beyond the corn

We're teenagers
It's what we do
It's how we find
out who we are
Like our parents
did before us
We're following
Our star

We learn
about each other
We learn
Where we should go
We set a path
Into the future
With the star
From long ago

Going on a back road ride
Deep into the night
Going on a back road ride
It will be out of sight
Going on a back road ride
Won't be back until the morn
Going on a back road ride
In the fields beyond the corn
Lynn MacKinnon Sep 2014
Fall in Miami is nearly here
It's my favorite season of the year
Cooler the weather soon will be
Crisp air, fresh smells, energetic cats we'll see.

Time to plant my seeds to grow
Vegetables, herbs, all organic we sow
Trees still green, light outside after dinner
Walks, badminton,  biking all a winner.

Halloween fun coming soon,
The stores with holiday supplies since June
Door bells ring, children call “trick-or-treat”
Scary costumes and mounds of candy to eat.

Buy a pumpkin and carve evil, smile fake
The seeds toasted, fruit in an aromatic cake
Shriveled pumpkin in my compost bin
Organic matter to start all over again.
Written October, 2009
Seven Socrates Jun 2014
Are you an illusion or do you really exist?
Enemy or ally? Friend or foe?
Do I take you for granted or you use as a gift?
Uncertain of your loyalty in the end we’ll know.
Legacies you create often become forgotten
I’ve seen when you’ve ignored those asking for help
Leaving them helpless buried beneath the bottom
They would have been better off asking someone else
Why do you slow down our sorrows, speed through our joys
I’ve seen you be cruel to those that abuse you
When you’re at war for peace what weapon do you deploy?
It’s confusing who rules who, do you rule us or do we rule you?
You have to appreciate what you get, lonely or loved people will forget
But  you aren’t responsible for humanities regrets.
Martin Narrod May 2014
Hallucinating Bureaucracies and auditory Hallucinations : When the voice in your head speaks when you don't want it to, to head's of State not present. I could snuggle in bed if I wanted to, but I've got to orchestrate and reorganize the Clinton dowry. It started outright with trying on a purple, yellow, and blue button down shirt that had Scabies in the sleeve- and now you're all going to know why Mr. and Mrs. Obama don't want to talk to me about potentially increasing livestock traffic across the Americas. I think could practice will follow from such a manure, I mean maneuver. I pick up 10 or so bottles of plastic single-serve water for consumption in my apartheid room. It's awful in here. The gold disappears from the mines, and even the hands I used to work with are blurring up in the twister, and as much as you call or don't call I have no business managing your intentions- only mine. Some barrge of women over thirty. But still there isn't a problem. The river is beginning to flood, and the fishery's stockpile is running low. Maybe we ought to empty out an African mass grave and fill it with blacklists of co-conspirators and then make a drake or a flume out of the narrow walkways between the cities. Then maybe we'll have water to last us through the dry season.----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------- Where in the world is Sam in Hammond, Can Diego? Forklifting pillars, bribing monkeys, playing with his Mickey Mouse and Michelob, catching the taller, eighteen and up crowd catch the last car riding the rapid drop from Space Mountain through, "It's a Small World After All:"  

It's a world of laughter a world of tears, it's a world of hopes and a world of fears. There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware- it's a small world after all."  

And then he takes the biggest gulp of water into his mouth that I've ever seen the man take, and he puts it in a small cooler that's strapped to the back of his calf, and he swears to me that the aeroplanes are going to come loop around, and when they do their glorious water-landing, he and I, or rather, the both of us, will be saved. Saved, hm? I don't even bother sharing insights or my insides. I quickly flash him the most-pod horrific a tryst that irons down a photo of Egon and I back in the Old City, what was it, Chicago, or something that very much sounded like Chicago. Could be totally awesome and I'll chime in that now is the time when we do our work best. That's all. Intrepid,

— The End —