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Nat Lipstadt Oct 2023
“What can a poem do?”

”A poem
is a not a tourniquet
when you’re bleeding.
It’s not water when you’re thirsty
or food when you’re hungry.
A poem can’t protect you from an airstrike,
or from abduction, or from hate.
It’s hard to write when our words feel
like they’re not enough—they can’t do
the real, tangible work of saving lives,
or making people safer.”

(see (1) Maggie Smith)


as is my wont,
I write,
as is my Natted~inhabited,
retiring to the local watering holes of
Cerebrum & Cerebellum,
them regular haunts,
where all requests are mailed, processed, satisfied & marked;
‘return & render to the sender, who’s on a cerebral ******!’
and that request?

‘give me the words’ (2)

those ‘to do’ words, floaters, direct to top of list,
those ‘can do’ words, that can effect the affect,
spare the despair, realize the fungible, concretize cures,
soften hard waters, giving a worsening worn life fabric a
curated baby blanket feel, a 4-ply human tissue of

‘words that tell me everything’ (2)

salve solution verbs that bounty-wipe spills in entirety,
vacuum up spillage spoiling of 17 days of terrible nouns,
uncovered-unknown rages caused by inflicting prepositions
released a hatred rising,
safety rebury it deeper, drug & destruct the sleeper agents,
and let me start over again with

‘telling me everything by saying nothing’ (2)

the pausal silence, the quieted spaces tween the heartbeats,
where ‘reflection,’
the noun,
and its world of alternations,
the noun,
look inwards, but shining outward,
this, this!
is where the poem goes to do!
enervating & arresting

its contradictory powers
rock you into wild docility,
possessive and submissive,
contradictory interferences,
smoothing the roughness,
closing the gaps it opens,
healing the caused truthful cuts,
with words that tell you
everything and nothing,
open the holes, filling the gaps,
that is what a
poem do,
in and by
the manner it is spoken…


“Sometimes a poem is the stone you carry in your pocket—the one you rub when you’re worried.  Let’s fill our pockets with poems.”
(see (1) Maggie Smith)
(1) Maggie Smith Oct. 24
(see link

(2) see the lyrics  to”In a  Manner of Speaking”
Maja Sep 2021
it's not about what you get
it's about what you do with what you get
Girl Mar 2021
Bottle it up.
do it.
Throw it in the sea.
do it.

even the voices in my head agree.

they never agree.

Wishing that the emotions coursing through my veins with every beat.
of my heart would go with it.
knowing there's only one way...
stoping my heart

it keeps going.


it always ends with a period.
or a bullet.

But the bitter tears stayed.
The raw emotion filled me up.

Like a bottle, overflowing.
A tsunami of.
At myself, for being incapable.
At those around me… for being so blind.
Why can no one see, why can’t they see that I’m not ok?
Why cant someone see through my white lies and blinding perfection. don’t they know better?

they have to know better
WHY won’t they do something?


Can’t they see I’m b r  o   k    e     n?

have I gotten too good at make-belief?
Sometimes it feels so real that I get lost in the moment.


The wind drowns out my screams.

its ok.

its not.

But I'm use to the silence.

so quiet.

it use to be peaceful.

now it's loud.


so much.



For a second, pretending I’m ok.
o k.
But the gravity shifts.
one moment...
I’m weightless.

s o a r i n g

through the sky.
And the next.
I’m crushed beneath the weight of the world.

Like Atlas, but I’m down on my knees.
The weight of reality is too much to bear.
I’m sinking, like a ship...
A ship with too many holes, beyond repair.
The weight of knowing sinks in grief envelopes me, welcoming me. Into its comforting darkness.

I wish.

I wish- things could be different…
Maybe in another life...
I think thougtfully as I look out into the storm.
A practiced captain knows when to give up.


Looking back down at my hands I seal the bottle shut.

I’ve always liked solving mysteries, it’s time to be one.

I’ll bet people would wonder why the selfless girl took… took from herself.
With a last look at the beaten boat, I toss the bottle weightless for a split second, before dropping like a stone, into the sea of green.
So quiet without a splash, not even a ripple.
She was gone.


Anne B Feb 2021
Burn those bridges, then
If you must.

Let them ******* burn.
Sometimes you gotta do.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2021
Fervency referring to effectuality as measured
by men,
I suppose. Positionally, top line.
Challenges are not all games,
all games are challenges.

That which he fears comes.
Anticipate war, teach your son to
access participation trope level
anticipatory experience
imagining dying
design a death that does not damage, eh,
no damming, no pile of useless hordes,
dammed to collect the flow
anticipating need
when need is non exist-ant.

Greedy gut.
Discussing spells with my grandsons, with an emphasis on secrecy being
a thing, in the past, but now we have Herd level AI, art intervention.
Mark Wanless Nov 2020
right now i am me
me i truly want to be
why don't i do it
Giovanna Oct 2020
Nothing's forever
and hardships aren't an exception.
When you are too heavy to fly,
remember all you can do is retry.
What's the problem if people don't believe in you
Make it your reason to break through.
It's okay to be scared of your dream,
atleast you know that it is its extreme.
If you fail on the way,
take a break and mend yourself for the future day.
Never doubt your calibre and go back
cause you didn't come this far to pace back the track.
Keep fightin'
and one day you will find yourself flyin'
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