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Damocles Jul 10
What a useless thing,
It stands there stalwart
With a child like expression.
Crudely constructed,  
Kindergarten craft like.

Hair made of straw,
Skin dry and burlap,
Eyes wide and sunken,
Smile crooked and broken.

What a sad thing it is,
Hay filled and overstuffed
Obese, rotund, and moldy
Old and foul smellingβ€”
A potpourri of fungus and rot.

Allegedly scary to the crows,
Standing well within the rows
Protecting corn and other crops
Superstitious like native myths,
But a whiff, a shame
As crows land and pass their excrement.

Dirtied beaten thing
A sign of harvest and oncoming fall,
But a parody of Mythos past
As this scarecrow scares nothing at all.
Seriously, they are useless things. Just rotting in place serving no practical purpose.
vik Jun 22
i shut my eyes and see the wardens bloom
their leer adrift above a nescient sea.
(i think the insects swallowed up my womb.)

they linger whist in ***** afternoon,
where sky and ocean taint what used to be.
i shut my eyes and see the wardens bloom.

the trees revive a name they won’t assume,
truth trickles through their twigs too slow, too free.
(i think the insects swallowed up my womb.)

the world gives in to predetermined doom;
the sun forgets, the branches disagree.
i shut my eyes and see the wardens bloom.

light limps in shreds through a decaying tomb,
and every ray once knew of memory.
(i think the insects swallowed up my womb.)

love was a ghost...
no, love was just perfume
now scentless, lost in stolid atpy.
i shut my eyes and see the wardens bloom.
(i think the insects swallowed up my womb.)
πŸͺ°
Reece May 16
Optimism can be,
Very much fulfilling, or,
Exhaustingly bland.

Pessimism makes a,
Darkened cloud cover up the,
Shining, blinding Sun.

Cynicism blurs the,
Line between friend or foe 'cause,
Everyone’s corrupt.

Altruism means that,
I should help others without,
Pondering the cost.
Different points of view.
pilgrims Mar 24
Three cheers for broken things!
Those who god rapes
and what the cat brings
inside causing screams. The last laugh.
Reduced to a shocking object;
denied personal being, a personal hell,
alone, touched by shadows.
All shadows imply light.
Torture of existence transforms to bliss.
Taken request, now give it a kiss.
See and be seen.
Be vulnerable, be keen to love the ugly.
Cringing dancing singing -
Obscene wisdom, divine pain:
Dominion of fate.
Tainted blood yet the soul won't stain.
Reece Mar 6
I don’t consider myself a cynic,
But I am not fooled by good intentions,
People lie,
All the time.
Is it purely for self-interest?
Does any good come from their interventions?
Who am I to say?
Each person has their own belief,
On the selfishness,
Of humanity.
I’d like to believe,
That there’s goodness around,
You may have to squint,
But I’m certain it can be found.
Isn’t it a depressing point of view,
To say that everyone is selfish,
And nobody cares about you?
I’m not overly optimistic,
Nor excessively pessimistic,
I don’t believe that I’m a cynic,
I walk the middle line,
Filled with nuance,
And confusion,
All of the time.
Anais Vionet Dec 2024
If you’re looking for yuletide cynicism here,
you’re shopping in the wrong place.

This is New York City’s time of year.
It’s stood the test of time and it fairly sparkles,
proving that the ordinary can be extraordinary.
With the right lighting.

Lisa’s (parent’s) apartment glitters like our promised heaven on high.
When we left at Thanksgiving, Michael (Lisa’s dad) had the concierge
service stressed, toting boxes of decorations up from their storage area.
When I waved my goodbyes, he appeared to be wrestling an octopus of
cool-white fairy lights into submission. Now everything glitters pyrite bright.

Our holiday time is limitedβ€”and this is our chance to unwindβ€”so we’re
selective about what we decide to embrace. For instance, there was a sale
at Michael Kors where, no big deal, I got a pair of brogue, black
leather wingtips that’ll be straight fire with a little black dress.
The bargains were so good that I decided the store must be a drug front.
Not that I’m complaining. Do I ever complain? Nope, I’m stoic.

Like Eric Adams, the mayor of New York, Lisa and I’ve
been β€œtesting the product” of Manhattan's club scene.
We’re searching diligently for the new and unfamiliar.

When it comes to picking which clubs we want to visit,
Charles, our driver and escort (a retired NYPD cop),
has gone as far as to suggest, we’re β€œout of our depth,”
and refused to let us even try one or two DJ’d, pop-up clubs
in Queens that were getting a lot of heat and likes.
β€œRoosevelt Avenue is the new 42nd Street,” he’d said.
What does that even mean??
Indignant silence

Anyway,
I hope Christmas finds you all merry and bright and that your holidaysβ€”whichever you celebrateβ€” are carnivals of food, music, friendship and loveβ€”for those are the luxuries that count the most.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Merry Kwanzaa, Happy Festivus!
.
.
Songs for this:
Absolutely Everybody by Vanessa Amorosi
Rock With You by Traincha
.
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A Christmas Playlistβ€”because there's 4 days til Christmas
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_28.mp3
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 12/10/24:
Brogue = a low leather shoe decorated with small holes along the sides and wingtips
Francis Oct 2023
Someone told me,
To water my own grass,
But what they neglected to mention,
Is that my grass is crass.

This is due to my unfortunate past,
Every minute spent kissing ***,
To be walked on and trampled by,
Boots and heels of brass.

So no, I will most certainly not,
Water my own grass,
The thoughts and evaluations,
Of the judgment I pass,
Is necessary and voluntary,
In a sea of largemouth bass.
Another poem about judgment of character since I’m always in defense.
Malia Jun 2023
I think it’s really π’‡π’–π’π’π’š when we ask, β€œhow are you?”
The answer’s π’‚π’π’˜π’‚π’šπ’” the same.
β€œI’m good, how are you?”, β€œI’m fine, how are you?”, β€œI’m π’‡π’Šπ’π’†, I’m π’π’Œπ’‚π’š!”
I think it’s funny, because sometimes it’s a π’π’Šπ’†.
We have made it π’„π’–π’”π’•π’π’Ž to π’π’Šπ’†, to give an π’‚π’π’”π’˜π’†π’“ that doesn’t π’‚π’π’”π’˜π’†π’“ anything.
We have made it π’„π’–π’”π’•π’π’Ž to 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 π’π’Šπ’”π’•π’†π’π’Šπ’π’ˆ, because we π’Œπ’π’π’˜ what they’ll say.

We π’Œπ’π’π’˜ what they’ll say.
We π’Œπ’π’π’˜ what π’˜π’†β€™π’π’ say.

You know what we’ll say?
We won’t say π’‚π’π’šπ’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ.
We’ll say π’π’π’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ because words are not π’˜π’π’“π’…π’” when they’re π’†π’Žπ’‘π’•π’š.

We’ll repeat it, 𝘒𝘯π˜₯ 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘒𝘡 π˜ͺ𝘡 𝘒𝘯π˜₯ 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘒𝘡 π˜ͺ𝘡 𝘒𝘯π˜₯ 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘒𝘡 π˜ͺ𝘡 𝘒𝘯π˜₯ 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘒𝘡 π˜ͺ𝘡-

Can’t you see how 𝘩π˜ͺ𝘭𝘒𝘳π˜ͺ𝘰𝘢𝘴 this is?
Random fact of the day: We have the same number of vertebrates as giraffes. Missed opportunity for us to have giraffe necks, in my opinion.
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