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Zywa 1d
The guests run away,

the staff is left with the feast --

left with the rumours.
Novel "Shalimar the Clown" (2005, Salman Rushdie), chapter Boonyi, § 1

Collection "Low gear"
Jeremy Betts Apr 17
Should I really worry about every chip on my shoulder?
Because I'm far more concerned about this planet size boulder that's up there
Knowing it is, still hoping it's not a foreboding place holder
A precursor to a something likely to be far heavier
Representing a multifaceted, real and present danger
I know I know better than to say I can take the pressure
Because inevitably that's when you hear
The crazy train circling life shift and kick into higher gear
Elevating despair to a level superceding fear
No one gets to choose their final chapter
So whatever
Let's just get this over with if it's not going to get any better for here

Jeremy Betts Mar 17
Inside this inconspicuous figure
Is a heart and mind that conspire together
To trigger my rage heavy splendor
That works out for me never
Too clueless to share how but somehow aware
Somewhere in there is fear
Even if just a sliver
So buyer beware
Locate the snare,
It's always there
A danger that's present but not clear
I sense it when giving and losing control,
Compassion and anger
I'm uncomfortable but familiar
With those two in particular

Jeremy Betts Mar 17
Just because you can
Maybe you have,
Danced with fire
That does not mean that same flame will not burn after expired
Leaving a new want to expire
Like desire
Or so I've heard from the choir
But then again most everyone I've met,
Myself included,
Is a lier
And yet,
For reasons unknown,
I'm still a buyer
Then shortly after,
A broken heart supplier

Zywa Mar 1
After the **** breach,

somewhere in the water, still --

a howling siren.
Composition #021 "hYDAtorizon" for paino, string quartet and video ("Rooted in water", 1988, Yannis Kyriakides), performed by Quatuor Bozzini and Reinier van Houdt in the Organpark on November 26th, 2023

Collection "org anp ark" #327
Zywa Feb 6
Something is at hand,

so I better find a way --

out of my slumber.
Personal transmission-composition "Occam ocean" for orchestra (2015, Éliane Radigue), performed in the Organpark on February 3rd, 2024, by ensemble ONCEIM (L'Orchestre de Nouvelles Créations, Expérimentations, et Improvisations Musicales) and others - @strings

Collection "org anp ark" #355
Sadie Grace Jan 4
I feel so alone
Like I got no home
I just want to roam
Check out the unknown
But I'm just a girl living in a semi-dangerous world
Try to keep my pack
Knives stuck in my back
Can't trust anyone
Can't love anyone
Nowhere I belong
Wish I could be strong
All I ever am is wrong
Zywa Nov 2023
That's just how life is,

you must take risks, you have to --

incur expenses.
Novel "Lighthousekeeping" (2004, Jeanette Winterson), chapter A place before the Flood

Collection "Passage Passion"
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
Hello old friend...
Across from me he sits, fixed, his cold gaze like a winters reflection
No sun, no motion, just done
I'm not even sure he's capable of emotion
And the real man inside, he's seen by no one
Except me, I see...
I see a semi good looking, moderately attractive man
Doing the best he can to get out of **** it and I don't give a **** land
Trying to hide the brand of a misfit that's been burnt into his hand
Before it gets out of hand
Not even sure if I can, I mean he can, I mean we can
Change the plan enough to rage the river and bust through the dam
The whole things a sham
The t-top trans am and all the glam
Just put into place to hide who I really am
I mean, who he really is, I mean who we really are
He's gone to far in the wrong direction, he's lost the farm
He didn't see the harm in projecting his charm
How could he have known that presenting a false hand would lead to the loss of an arm
Maybe he thought it a false alarm
Maybe he couldn't see the danger through the swarm
Or maybe, just maybe, it was to loud between his ears to hear, confused the warning siren for a victory horn
Now the fire inside is a flicker, the passion for life only luke warm
And he's worn a grove in the floor as he passes, fighting with the desire to have never been born
Feeling like a child from under the stairs or of the corn
Forced to adorn a smile he's worn just to hide the scorn
Being ****** by life to the brink of death, almost a ***** ****
Sworn in my the devil, when the sediment settles no one will mourn
His dreams ripped from his hands, left alone to weather the storm
Cold and frightened, not even a recognizable life form
Torn between being himself or having to conform
The norm unattainable like a hunt for a unicorn
So he gave up, and who could blame him
A Titanic adventure, sink or swim, the chance of survival slim
The future grim, on unlevel ground, in need of a shim
His life a synonym for the darkness within
Told over and over again that it's up to him
Up to him to make a better life but where to begin
His light goes dim as he recalls a hymn
That use to give him hope but now it's like a dead limb
Useless as a possums survival mechanism
He looks directly in my eyes while I listen
Almost begging for advise but there's non to be given
What would you say to me? I mean, what would you say to him?

Farah Taskin Oct 2023
There are pandemics,
earthquakes, floods,
famine, wildfire,
volcanic eruptions,
peril, disease, death,
oppressors in this planet
Do you want and love peace?
Earth is not the suitable place to live
for you.
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