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Kuzhur Wilson Mar 2021
A 22 ct poem on gold

Dear gold

In the body of a woman

you attain elegance

lying chained to the hip

fatigue like

Endless are the times

when earlobes and foot

seduced me without you

Mere threads of yellow

will do better than you

There's a cuteness

seeing you

swing from a single ear

Nose studs, with a stare

have stung me sleepless.

The ones made of rolled

gold too

But, dear gold

You become gold

when you are pawned

Like the revolutionary

who becomes more revolutionary

when hanged

Like the soldier

who gets shot and becomes

a soldier even more

Dear gold in the pawn shop

My gold, dear gold

Translated by Binu Karunakaran
Translated by Binu Karunakaran
Sharon Talbot Apr 2019
Scream, Memory

Accidents don't happen on holiday,
do they?
Standing in the shower, I stare out of
a tiny window at the setting sunlight.
In a row, children on a rustic bench
chatter through their colored ices
and kick their sandaled feet.
Soon, a tall, bland man appears
with smiles for all--this is his family
and he is happy.
His ambiance is like a drug so I leave
my caravan, barely dry,
Wanting to speak to him and not knowing why.
His good fortune draws one to him,
Yet I find another reason.
He directs me without words
to a desolate room and a gown.
And I remember...that I have not remembered
lately. And my collection of names is dwindling,
memory leaking like a wire basket.
Even before I don the ugly robe and lie down
on a cold, plastic bench,
I know what the diagnosis will be.
The cylindrical tunnel looms and his nurse or wife
motions to it as he still smiles.
The machine roars like time passing
And I emerge carefully, not wanting to know.
Seeing my expression, he turns on me:
"It is bad news, but also sad."
He tilts his head like a bird, self-satisfied.
His vacuous delight belies the words.
What the hell is the difference, I think.
And like a falling tree, reality splits the dream
And knocks down my life.
I weep, uncontrolled.
It does not help to swear
nor to hit the wall with my fist.
But would it help to slap the doctor?
People crowd around and tell me to stop
but, as I had to when my father died,
I continue to rave.
For, what is simple to them
I will not make so to me.
I will mourn and censure Fate!
And if I still must,
I will not go gently
But scream all that I remember
Into the fading light.

April 19, 2019
This is the rough remembrance of a nightmare about Alzheimer's, which I had after doing some research on memory. I wonder why I was in a caravan, since I hate those! Does it symbolize our temporary status in this world? The doctor LOOKED nice and kind, like a 1950's hero, but was merciless and cold.
Mr Buddy Apr 2015
5-Hello Mr. Chippppp, I'm ready....
7-It is time to dine Mr Buddy.....
5-Are you an MR CT Buddy?
mr coach teacher
Mr Buddy Apr 2015
5- Are you an Mr. CT?
7- I am from the waters of Lake Minnetonka...
5-Please do not touch me there....
lil chel lil swensy
Invocation Apr 2014
My hair is growing longer
I've lost weight - but not the bad way
this time
My new necklace
Your beard is longer too, oh it curls
What's that? Did you get that at work?
It doesn't look serious
I have nightmares
My artwork
Band logos
Smoke with me
Tattoo ideas
Michelle's saggy ****, drawn hastily and without detail
but you prefer it that way
Oh how cute
your dogs are trying to steal your pillow
I guess I can be lonely
I'll fight with nobody
except for my stuffed animals for the
empty space
Invocation Apr 2014
I can't wait to get my tattoos.
I'll get the lyrics of all my favorite songs and poems
on my back
even though they say it's
not cool to get them where I can't see them
but you can admire them and trace them and read them
and kiss them
Will you lick my skin?
How do I taste, late at night
unshowered and covered in the day's breath?

If you promise to kiss every tattoo I get
I will get every inch of me inked
**Every inch
Invocation Apr 2014
I don't know what to do or how to handle these feelings
Then I get an apathetic streak
I treat everything with such indifference
And then I just feel pain.

I see others constant updates on how many pills they want to take.
But I feel like this is so beyond me.
Where am I?
Are you there?

— The End —