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kiran goswami Jan 29
They have good days,
I will have good decades.
Kurt Carman Sep 2018
It’s something I think about often,
Do we fully understand the fragility of this life we possess?

And suddenly a loved one is taken …it inflames you to think.
Every consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.

These lives of ours are fleeting, gone in a minute.
When you suddenly understand this, everything fades into the background.

Pushing 70 now… I choose to soar out of bed joyfully rejoicing each morning,
That life has granted me another day above the dirt.

Life is strong and weak…it’s a paradox.
Keep your mind strong my friends, don’t hide behind your fears.

This life of yours is an amazing gift….live it with a smile!
I often think about my ancestry. In my living room hangs a picture of my Great Grandfather Isaac. And each time I walk past it I tell him how much I love him. I look forward to meeting him one day. But until then I refuse to let my death consume me and I hope you don't either.
Coco Jul 2018
My mother decided not to fight with the Earth anymore
While she wanted zucchini she let the blueberries grow.
She parked her little trailer by the trees and closed the door
I guess my mother decided not to fight with anyone anymore.

"Just what I needed" she proclaimed as she showed me around
her little trailer in the woods, wheels already sinking in the ground
A sink, a table, two coffee cups, a bed
and almost enough room to stand without hitting your head

on a three acre plot with a five bedroom home...
My mother decided not to fight with that house anymore.
"No shoes allowed," if one of the two rules of the trailer
Because my mother decided she's not gonna sweep anymore

She left home with her baby and boyfriend
in a school bus I wouldn't doubt he stole.
(My mother decided she wasn't gonna fight with her mother anymore.)
And when that wasn't working, she went off on her own.
Her son was the only man she'd fight for.

She married my father because;
"he just wouldn't leave me alone."
My mother decided not to fight it anymore
She fought for her house, her kids and she swore
she'd fight to the death if someone tried to take that from her.

Fought she did, fiercely or quietly
she did what she needed to.
How did my mother always know what to do?
One night we snuck out in the darkness
we left home for somewhere new.

She dressed us up in dresses and we drove and we drove
My mother decided we weren't going to church anymore.
We'd go to prison to see my father even though she was told
if we didn't we'd have a beach house in Jersey, everything paid for.

Because of her I know my father and love him unconditionally
Maybe my mother decided she wasn't going to keep that from me.
Because of her I know my siblings, doesn't sound like a choice
But my mother decided no one was going to separate us.

My mother decided not to fight with the Earth anymore.
She let's the weeds grow taller in the front yard, it doesn't bother her.
She'll pull them out by the roots when they're ready to go.
My mother knows what's worth fighting and fighting for.
Come with me on another long journey. This one spanning decades.
Chris Neilson Apr 2018
Talkin’ ‘bout my Generation X
before the advent of text
and the ubiquity of Next
and the next looming Wetherspoon
we grew up with physical shopping
for food, clothes and life’s necessities
away from the online surfing settees
we're the 1965 to 1980 born demographic
a broad brush who never regularly beat a path abroad
like many millennials did before they left Pampers
with their X men and women parents
never getting bored with board games
walking on by with walkmans
before the ridiculous discman arrived
dragging a discus around was no fun
but it was harder to lose than Wifi
in the massively vast online sky

every generation has it better
than the one before
that’s what “they” say
whoever “they" are
we did that’s for sure
those 50s and early 60s baby boomers
with their 2 ups and 2 downs

but those following us
the 80s and early ‘90s birthdays
they’re bucking the trend
make do and mend
with landlords on the make
unaffordable rents, easier to live in tents
with insecure gigging employment
whatever those untruthful politicians say
massaging figures while massaging egos
but that’s how it goes in a democracy
where we can all vote for the least untrustworthy

Generation X’s prime was the big hair 80s
into the grungey 90s
the last demographic to live pre-internet
pre-mobile phones and pre-clones
now propping up their millennial offspring
it’s their duty after all
to bail out the greedy bankers
the voracious wankers

so what will become of the snowflakes?
have they got what it takes?
Stream of consciousness
Druzzayne Rika Nov 2017
One day
this is going to end
whatever that started
because time doesn't understand

the breeze comes
passing by decades
get everything replaced
this place will look no same

the fast we embrace
the memory escapes
and we forget it ever lived
that one day, we've been in.
Secret-Author Jan 2017
The first time I said his name, he asked me how I knew him.
I was thrown. I knew him and I knew Kim.
What we've been through -
Your family and I;
I often lay awake at night and toss and turn and sigh.
I felt like taking his head in my hands and saying
"Your brother - he was mine."
But I didn't.

He lives in the house next to my parents.
And knew me until I left. Bereft.
Then he sees me now -
and acts as if he doesn't know me.
Like he hasn't held my hand or cried,
Well that's what's really thrown me.
The tree in your garden. It's planted for him.
With me at the window, watching tiny you and Kim.

We used to sit in that garden, late into the night.
Until everyone was gone, left with nothing but starlight.
Oh, what we've been through -
Your family and I;
To this day I lay in bed and sometimes have a cry.
So I was thrown, to the bone, and feeling so small...
When I realised that in your mind,
- I didn't exist at all.
Spoken Word Poetry
Chris Neilson Dec 2016
"My flight of fulfillment has flown", said the man on the cusp of his sixth decade
"I've missed the departure time
messing about without reason or rhyme.
The body encasing my spirit
is rebelling against my future dreams
succumbing to ravaging savages of time
falling apart at the seams.
I'm picking at the stitches
in a show of dissent
ignoring every stop
on my mind's descent
unable to locate a base to camp
afore the climb to redemption ridge
lost in a self created wilderness
of a lifetime of freely giving away
parts of my very being
bit by bit
drip by drip
no self replenishment sought
throughout this altruistic journey
I'm exhausted, drained, anxiety riddled and scared
Above all, however
I still feel loved", said the man on the cusp of his sixth decade
No notes
JjJ98 Oct 2016
Time passes like no other passes.
Like no other classes: you cannot learn
about time, and how it moves.

You can be shown mechanics,
the seconds and minutes.
Though these illusions alleviate
us of reality-
how gradually
it treks on.

It stops and starts
and starts to stop.
We feel the slots
slipping by, flying by.

There's no way to tell,
when ours will end,
though its grasp eternal,
begins again.
Arrays of stars land softly
on this thick bed of pine needles
under your graciously reaching tree,
and we see impossibly blue, miniature
flowers with centers of infinite white.

Tunneling underground, more
have been born over the decades
since you planted their mothers and fathers
by hand, here in this garden that has become
a secret woodland, even in the middle of town.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
Two hundred years ago and yesterday
a sailor wrote a letter in longhand,
entrusting it to the road
back to his beloved,
where dawn was breaking
at the closest port of call.

A century ago, a shy and lovely
mail order bride wrote
to the man who would be her husband,
in a land entirely different from her own.

In her delicate, sincere questions, from a
heart wrapped in ornate brocade layers of
kimono silk, she hoped to begin to know him.

Relationships formed gracefully, over time,
an ocean of water and thought intervening.

Water and air may be there
keeping souls apart,
until they are meant to be united.
Now, two beloved young friends have found
in each other a twin flame, first seen shining
in the virtual world of today. With only letters,
or flares or morse code, these two would have
seen, and known, that light within one another.

Souls destined from very early on.

My loving eyes have seen them, decades from now,
leaning into one another, silver hair entwined
as they rest their heads together on one more journey.

I defy anyone who might challenge me,
seeing these two blossoming in love
from a virtual, chance encounter, 
to say that life is any less real
in the ways that matter most,
when it is born in abstract space,
in this manifestation of a reality
that is in itself a metaphor for

Reality, is living,
deeply living,
the inexplicable,
exquisitely simple
of being fully human.
For Lynn and Josh ~
©Elisa Maria Argiro
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