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Man Jun 22
Everyday it seems, more of the same:
Some kind of sick & twisted head game.
And to what selfish end, I can
Only assume it, to be
In the aim of amusement.
Kicks for you,
Joke on me
Man Jun 21
Charred remains, of jungle burned:
Fire steeped, laotian leaves.
Who we lost, in what we earned;
For the love of ******,
Of sweet release.

Korean craters, Mexican invaders, &
The Boxer rebellion.
The sinking of Maine, the panamanian strait;
Meuse–Argonne, inherent freedom

Is there a place, for the peaceable to congregate?
Versailles, Geneva, Nuremberg, Tokyo.
What point to rules are made,
When no one follows them.
Bagram, Mai Lai, Tiananmen, the Chechen genocide

Is it merely in our nature;
To fight, and argue, divide?
We can conquer, but can we conquer
The lust that is
The love of tribe
Man Jun 2
Often not, is prayer
In fear of God
But of our fellow man
Man Jun 1
A voice,
I was familiar with
Previously, deviously
Reaching out
For more of what she had
the old wives
say it must be
the left hind foot
of a rabbit
shot with a silver bullet
or not shot at all
simply captured
one way or another
ideally on the grave
of a criminal
the more wicked the person
the more potent the charm
with the foot harvested
while the poor creature
is still alive
it has to be done
in a cemetery
during the night
of a full
or new moon
though others say
it should be
a friday
a rainy friday
friday the thirteenth
if the foot is to become
one of those lucky ones
Flo Jul 2021
Dear politician,
Thanks for stopping by
And for all the cameras
You brought along
This is where my house once stood
Before it was put afloat
And washed away
By what was once a mere creek

I see you came prepared!
An umbrella, a rain jacket
And some rubber boots as well!
Your whole attire
Truly you’re one of us!

So come on board!
We’ll ship down the main road
Look at the destruction together
While you make an earnest face
So everyone will see
How truly devastated you are

You assure immediate help
Promise to tackle climate change too!
Action is what is required?
We’ve stood still for too long?
It must be...
A sudden change of mind I see!
After all your warnings:
Avoid rash decisions!
Remember there is no need to panic!
What do you mean?
Let’s change the subject?

Oh my!
What lovely rain boots you have!
I hope you did not forget
To bring a change of clothes
There is not much time. You’ll be late!
Be on your way!
To the fossil fuel committee meeting
You see,
Your lobbyist is already waiting
A cynical poem about politicians behaviour after the recent flooding in Germany
FC Azaele May 2021
Master of Arts
The soul of mine, I cannot find!
I’m lost in the ocean, amongst crashing waves — I’m almost blind!
Mastering of Arts, I beg of you — let the fates be kind

I have been good, haven’t I?
I’ve fed my body well and kept my healthy veins —
... my mistake was that I hadn’t fed another
anything but grains —
But, I don’t understand? I too am a man!
with needs of my own, and I support a wealthy land!
I have wives that lay by me, I feed them well with my hand
Is that not enough for you master? Sight o’foreseeable! What comes of me now? too lay like a fish? I hope that comes by faster!

The waves ripple,
the water crashing by at my feet
I scatter away, frightened by the coming dribble
The sky was turning dark — an upcoming storm was to pass by, I had no shelter and nothing here to eat

My stomach growled, too loud of a sound
It had been awhile since it’d done that, I was always kept satisfied
Now, nothing’s here — not fishes nor ground
The sky roared, electrified
The storm was approaching too soon!
No blues, No light loomed
Overhead. Only the thundering boom.

Too much to bear! Too much too weigh!
Oh Master of Arts!
I’m sorry I hadn’t looked down the lanes!
I saw them too, Ah! They had been too frail and somber!
Starving all day!

Forgive me, Master! I won’t make another...
the seas are crashing courses with their waves,
Stronger each time, “I don’t have all day to be saved!”
But lightning struck, and I swore to keep my place in line
now isn’t the time to be a swine!

Selfishness is another seed to be taken, enough to make you blind
Master of Arts
I swear to you,
I’ll pay more mind
to the frail, aching bodies of the souls
in need
I have enough — I swear it! — to feed!

Master of Arts,
Let the fates be kind..
I swear I have changed, my mind, my acts, my scroll
Amidst all
I have realized
My role
lucidwaking Apr 2021
She thinks she's all grown up;
She walks in thinking that she's a full grown
Turning her ankle to show off that tiny heel.

She overdrew her lips
Higher than the empire state.
Her tiny eyes dart down the aisles.
Do you really think you can sniff out
A hot stud at the local WalMart?

Her soul tricked itself,
Roaring like it's a lion.
She'd do anything to make herself forget
That she's only a tiny girl.

And there she stands,
Scanning a tiny bag of chips,
Then stealing a beer at the self-checkout.
What a grown up thing to do.
I welcome critques. Thanks!
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