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Zemlya 5h
I lost U, I wanna cry
Wth? What happened? Y?
I feel rlly rlly bad
Don't know how to accept that
I'm just writing how it is
Without a lie, I can't do this
I feel so bad, I wanna die
Just wanna say the world "Bye!"
Wanna die without a pain
Or disappear somewhere in Spain
In the US, in the UK
Want everything to be OK
But I still cannot move on
I rlly shouldn't have been born
Cuz it's useless, y am I here?
I don't want anything to hear
I wanna cry, don't wanna laugh
Living in the world is tough
Contact with someone equals loss
Can't remove this f###ing curse
Suicide or live? That's the question
Comment below so I know what to do
Closer now to endless nights,
As voices, muffled
Like a seashell to my ear
Telling me to let go, in rhythmic harmony,

I fight for words or a groan; a cringe would do,
A silent and dark world has encapsulated me,
My memories will soon evaporate,
A collection for eighty years,
Can't you see me through heaving breathing
a hand which grips while shouldering
A feeling wishing I could one day feel good,
but its like I don't know if I deserve & should.

Canaries never fly with guilty eyes of sorrow,
The crows will wake me too early tomorrow,
The zombies beat to parade of marching death
but I turn a corner, remembering everything she said.

We wish upon blown genie wax on birthdays,
until the day our little smiles turn to sobs and cries,
and as adults we will flame worse than toddler tantrums
and then we walk to a death to beat of our lives' drums.
evelyn x 16h
And then, in an instant of forever,
they found us
sitting
in the fields of Asphodel
watching
as ghost winds tiptoe across ripe barley
and the sun slips into its gradual demise,
like the last trembling note of an aged double bass,
into his mother’s firm-fingered dusk—!

(I gasp)

your arms
wrap
around me
like hotel linen
the softness of it all
tantalizing
to the dry, raspy pores on my skin that ache,
begging,
for the sweet wet dew that sits on your lips
so beautiful on you and never on me.

your fingers
delicate
from the years they’ve blessed the church piano
close
so steadily
around my throat
like a mother draping embroidered silk necklaces
onto her darling child’s soon-to-be-married neck
and I


die.
feel free to critique
Boris Cho 18h
As I navigate through life, I am increasingly aware of the deep connection between living and dying. Each moment serves as a reminder that everything is temporary, urging me to seek the truths within myself.

Facing the possibility of death due to two brain aneurysms was a turning point for me. The thought of having only a one-third chance of surviving surgery forced me to confront my fears directly. I realized that death is not merely an ending; it can also be a gateway to something new. This experience opened my eyes to the importance of embracing every moment and the love I share with those around me.

During my recovery, I reflected on my life in a way I never had before. I encountered vivid memories and emotions that mirrored my thoughts and actions, revealing the depth of my journey. I learned that dying is a transition, a sacred opportunity for change. With each breath, I strive to cultivate awareness and find clarity amid the noise and chaos.

I began to appreciate love and compassion more than ever, understanding that these feelings connect me to everyone else. My actions impact the world around me, emphasizing our shared existence.

I am learning to accept that life and death are part of a continuous cycle; a journey of growth and renewal. By accepting this flow, I have opened myself to new possibilities and deeper understanding. I have found peace in the realization that, despite the uncertainties, life is a precious gift that I cherish every day.



In the quiet of the mind, I find clarity,
Life and death intertwined, both a single path.
In the bardo, I encounter my fears,
Illusions dissolve as awareness arises.

Compassion guides me through the unknown,
Love transcends the boundaries of self.
Each moment is a lesson in letting go,
Embracing impermanence, I find freedom.

As I awaken, I see the cycle of rebirth,
In every ending, a new beginning unfolds.
With each breath, I cultivate presence,
And in stillness, I connect with all that is.

— Sincerely, Boris
Of course, I love you,
as a leaf would love
the branch on which it grows.

Of course, I want you,
as a wing would long for
the air to take flight.

Of course, I await you,
as the earth awaits
for us all...
The poem conveys that love, desire, and waiting are as natural and certain as life. It intertwines human emotions with universal, timeless forces, portraying them as essential to existence. Love is not questioned; it is accepted as a fact, a force as fundamental as nature and mortality.
Idle word redemption day. {optional title}

Clocking time.
Timing coincidence,

confident tempus fugit…

ever learning, never certain,
each lessoning examined

conscience temptation, fug-edaboudit,
esse,
This is the day,
laid out
in front
of time's arrow

to be shot thro-
ugh-**ing A,  okeh, shot…out
ra' rough, footballer mind
an instance
in prayer… patiently ghine

-----------

He, if he were you,

ignoring nothing, finding quiet

time, alone,
in an empty house;

he would think, being as you
were he, I think,

rare, quiet, not noiseless, listen
the humms, the wind rattling
leaves in Live Oaks,
needles in Pines,

birds whose peeps are
playing
with my ears,
tuning mine
to his who hears

quiet time slipping by,
acknowledging most
deafening noise

is all
in the mind.

--------------

Wally Amos, are you still famous?

Me, too. Locally.

Famous for fine grandchildren,
Parent-Teacher Conference
confirmed, year after year,
fine
grandchildren given access
to books, and self education,

And wicked fast internet/
tutorials for anything

solvers of Rubic's cubes,
setters of gathering magic what's

and ifs, and but then, so that's
better, he thinks, this tinker

touching each across time,
think yourself useful to us all. Amen.

----------------------




Laughing, thinking of shouting,
at the floor, I am
so intense
because

I am alive
in my own future,
the world's a mess, unless,
I laugh,
and take the good.

It is a sunny November day,
after the promised latter rain,
laughter functions, leaving lines

where old faces wrinkle happily,
fitting character traits common
to old scout squinty perspicacity.

-------------------

Bored, in ever after, eh?

¿Made no plans
    to pursue, when you had time?

Well, as a filler word,
or is it
a feeler a
wordwiggle rough
through a ra'thought,
be may, may be, maybe so,
declaratively so said, indeed, thinking
beauty be,
what if now,
is the same time,
any instance taken
seriously curious wise,

from the initial point perceived, taken, held
to hold this thought, or hold that thought
as self evidently true,
having being
in minds
let be found like live words,
in spirit form, as breaths, taken

held, to rethink against knowing again
what was meant,
so long ago,
when all words got scrambled,
some lost all sense,
such be idle, now,
set to activate
on recognition, off, set
which is no longer the case, you know
common conscious
ness is the use, men-tal chabad
of knowledge actioning knowns
under the God
pledged and sworn
to try to tell the truth,
the whole truth y nada mas,
aliegiantly, in the spirit of Liberty…
inspired emperically in poetry
IF, Gunga Din
allah
Tha… just so, says
fear was the problem,
not knowledge
of wonder and adversity,
so opposed
for honor,
as translated good vs evil,
to death, staining beguilement,
from aha, got it, reason
to woe, original curse, sin
during developmental stages
interesting times first tier burns
of what our story says we mustabin,
in the dark ages, previous to the internet.

[[== jest, so ==]]-

eftsoons
obsolete or archaic way
of saying "soon afterward,"

ongean magical once more,
with feeling.
If life did not pass so fast, it could be much more phun.
Jason 1d
Lots of people say maybe in another life.

But seriously what the hell, why couldn't it be this one. ***** that another time another life crap.

Everyday I long for you, your grin the little squeaks you would make everytime I took you in my arms suddenly.

Every part of me longs for you... and I'm sorry we didn't make it. I didn't know what a privilege it was to have you, now it's to late.
It's not you're fault.
It’s hot in
Missouri.
The summer  
sun looks down  
jealous of
youth playing in
the fields,
carefree and
careless.
Kids drown
muskrats with
rocks in the
stream, and have
funerals for flies.
Death watches, and
waits for
winter to come.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
If I wasn’t,
it was because you weren’t either,
it was so we might someday be,
and because I already am.

If I am,
it’s because Someone loves me,
it’s because you love me, too,
and because I still am.

If I am, if I still am,
it’s so I can love you too,
so I can someday die,
and because I will one day no longer be.

If I will no longer be,
it’s so you will miss me,
so you all will miss me,
and because I already was.

If I was,
it’s because you were, too,
it’s because I had to be,
it’s because...
The poem delves into the existential interplay between being, love, and the passage of time. It explores how existence is shaped by relationships, love, and the inevitability of death, creating a cycle of presence and absence. The speaker reflects on the meaning of their existence through love, mortality, and memory.
The poem resonates with universal experiences of love, loss, and memory. It captures the tender vulnerability of being human—our need to be loved, our fear of being forgotten, and our hope to leave a meaningful trace behind.
Its open-ended conclusion underscores the mystery of life, leaving space for interpretation and introspection.
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