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Thomas W Case Apr 29
The under shell of
the tortoise looked
like a sunset.
Blasts of color:
orange, maroon, burnt sienna.
I caught them in
the garden at
sunrise, eating a
tomato or chewing into
a head of lettuce.
They always looked so

I was just a
sunburnt boy, with
cutoff jeans and a
straw hat.
I caught toads too.
But when they peed on me,
I let them go.
I loved that land.
Ponds and streams,
fishing and climbing trees.
sweet, green
Bardo Mar 15
One day my young niece was showing me some photos of herself and her
  friends on her phone
She had loads and loads of these photos
I was thinking to myself I don't think anyone's taken a photo of me in forty
Then I thought what'd happen if I got famous and someone wanted to write
  my biography (would be a short book)
And they'd say Give us some of your old photos to stick in the Book
And of course, I'd have a problem, I'd have no photos to give them,
Then I remembered there was this Novelty Joke shop in town
They had a great collection of all these different kinds of wigs
I thought maybe I could buy a few wigs then stage a few photos
Pretend they were from earlier days,
Yea, I could get an Elvis wig with the sideburns, I could say that was my
  Rockabilly stage
Then I could get a big Long Hair wig and say That was my Hard Rock
I could get a Mohican wig and say Well that was what I looked like when I
  was a Punk Rocker
And Hey! Maybe I could get one of those lovely big blonde Dolly
  Parton type wigs
I could say
"Well that Summer I was listening to a lot of Country music".
A bit of fun for St Patrick's Day. Have a Great One. Cheers!
Merry Oct 2022
We watch it ache and screech,
Tortured for some mercy in its misery,
We’re not allowed to wring its neck
All because the law can love a crow

Every time I mention its pain,
I get scolded. Chastised. Reminded.
This is farming country: and no one loves a crow
They eat the eyes of helpless, newborn lambs
All because farming country loves a lamb
Especially one they can eat themselves

The call on the phone goes nowhere,
Just like that now flightless, punished bird,
Concerns dismissed by automated machines,
No one bothers to come after the tone,
All because no one loves a crow.
its been a while since I last wrote a poem, I think this was a pretty good reentry into the format
Marisa Hope Aug 2022
i saw us

4 cars and a lake house, making friends all over this town, nothing holding us back

3 dogs and a sunset, laughing until there’s no air left, netflix binges on our couch

2 matching starbs tumblers, getting mexican food when our stomachs rumble, stargazing pretty far our

1 walk down the aisle, listening to morgan all the while, smiles on the way out

but instead it’s time to let you go

but i hope you know i’ll always love you so
Suhaib Tariq Jun 2022
I heard a call from heaven, I saw a fever dream
Of a land my kin would live in and joy would reign supreme.

But the land of the pure has blood in her waters
Of the children she bore, both the sons and the daughters.

There is poison in her air, her streets awash with shame.
How long shall her people suffer these perils in her name ?

Where justice is all but rare for the ones of wealth and fame
and her defenders sold her bare for fortunes and petty gain.

Her clerics were no different, they were but the same.
Men of God with Godless morals, who put us infidels to shame.

So we wait for spring's embrace, in this garden of yours and mine.
But winter is a mighty foe and it hangs on to every vine.
SYL Apr 2022

Sasapit na naman ang pinakahihintay na araw,
At hindi ito mananatiling sagrado magpakailanman.
Lahat ay mabibigyan ng patas na paghuhusga
At mismong lipunan ang syang magpapasya.

Naririnig ko na ang sigawan sa bawat dako ng gintong kompas
Kung saan ang kanilang hiyawa'y pagkakawatak-watak.
Iba't ibang ideolohiya sa demokratikong bansa
Kailan nga ba matatamasa ang tunay na pagkakaisa?

Sa bawat kulay na sinasabi nilang ito raw ang bukas
Ay ito rin ang gumuguhit sa kasaysayang tayo na't makibaka.
Kaya nga nating kulayan ang ating pagdikta
Ngunit sa ganitong paraan nga lang ba tayo kakalma?

Sa tuwing may mauupo sa trono na kataas-taasan,
Paano nga ba ang ating pagtindig
Para sa sinasabing mahal na bayan?

Pilipinas nga ba ang ating pinipili?
O kung saan lamang tayo kampante
Habang nananatiling namamaypay
At abala sa kabi-kabilang pag-uusig.

Iniisip nating tayo'y tunay ngang nasa laylayan na,
Ngunit ito nga ba ang kapeng gumigising
Sa dugo nating makabayan?
At sapat ba ang ating paghiyaw
Na walang hinihinging basbas mula sa Itaas?
Mga bibig natin, paminsan nga'y
Puno lamang ng mga palatastas.

Sapat ba na tayo-tayo na lamang
Ang naghihilaan pababa't paitaas?
Pagkat mismong pananampalataya'y
Nadudungisan ng walang katapusang pagkawatak-watak.

Bayang Magiliw, Perlas ng Silanganan --
Ikaw ang bansang hinirang ng Pagkataas-taasan.
Panatang makabayan, iniibig ko ang Pilipinas --
Sana'y mapaninidigan kita't
Hanggang sa huli'y maipaglaban
Pagkat maging aking hininga'y
Pansamantalata't pahiram lamang.

At hindi ito lotto o binggo,
Hindi tayo nagtataya nang kung sinu-sino.
Ngunit kung sinuman
Ang maging huling sigaw ng bawat Pilipino
Sana tayo pa ri'y magkaisa
Para sa dangal na nais nating isulong.

Ating pagkatandaan na kahit noon pa ma'y
May iisang hindi tayo tinalikuran,
Iisang Pangalan na may hawak ng bawat kapalaran
Higit pa sa bawat kulay na ating tinatayaan --
At Hesus ang Kanyang Ngalan!
Bangon Pilipinas!
The dewy grass makes me miss your lips,
as does the rain clouds.
When I see the baby foxes, your eyes appear,
rusty brown like the tractor outside.

Metal roof, where we lay under,
quietly listening to the drops.
You grasp at my warm waist,
pulling tighter like the loose faucet handle.

I crave your delicate peck against my lips,
like the green truck yearns to start.
My hands run through your hair as we lay
in the soft silence.

Dogs running and coffee cooling,
waiting for the sun to crest the hills.
I want this now, I want this later,
I want this forever.
The smell of fresh summer peaches fill the air,
a willow tree blows gently under a sunny abyss.
Silence fills the caterpillars cocoon and here I lay under the moon.
Hot night, soft breeze, smell of whiskey underneath the trees.
Crops are a grow'n' and the farmers fiddle sits on the hay.
Bonfires, beers and roasting fish on a smear rod snicket.
In the distance the scare crow stands tall and strong to protect the farmers land.
Animals squawk, hibernate and lock themselves in for a winter cold coming ahead.
Snowflakes fall, warm stew to be made by mom, morning comes, cup of chow time to relax with grandpa Jo.
Seasons pass and Spring is here at last,
muddy puddles, ***** feet, time to plant more growing seeds.
Life is beautiful, so is time, make it right and you shall find,
the touch, and warmth of every goodnight
Life's Seasons, Summer to Spring
S R Mats Jun 2021
My granny loved Banny hens.
They are small but they can be feisty.
Just as was she.
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