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Zywa 7d
My light will go out,

it couldn't get any darker --

Here I am. Take me.
Isaac calls his father and Abraham answers: "Hineni" ("Here am I", Genesis 22:6), a quotation from Isaiah 6:8 (the calling of the prophet Isaiah): "And I heard the voice of the Lord, saying 'Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?' Then I said, 'Here am I! Send me.' " On New Year's Day (Rosh Hashanah), believers repeat this answer.

Song "You want it darker" (2016, Leonard Cohen)

Collection "Over"
If I came to you
Wound up

Then remember that I couldn't fight what I felt for you anymore.
Why battle beating hearts that besiege my pride?


If I fell to my knees

There would be no need to lift me.

You already have when you smiled my way.
Burying a vision of you in my memory.
On my gravesite, blow the pinwheel, so you could send my soul spinning to heaven with every breath you take.

Ifeanyichuku Okoro II © 2023
Firing squad. In the field.  You can always take my life.
Humbled and haunted
Decided to let go of my breaths
Hold on to terrible and troubled terms
My eyes
Bar tears from encroaching terra firma
For fear of being human
When told I was interstellar

Heavy and hollow
Created chasms between family, friends, and flirts
It's not a sign so cold
But a zodiac killing field sans air
Blame is solely on my solar surface
I'm burning with regret I refused to own
Because I didn't recognize the seeds I've sewn

Heart-ached and hoping
Resign to my final destination
Loved her
Continued to adore
Pouring out olive oil and anointing my tongue to release the finest psalms to surround her name
Blowing kisses to the wind to carry my dedication and declarations to decorate her skin

This Earth's praxis upon invisible axis
To view you
One last time
Before I die again.

Ifeanyichuku Okoro II © 2023
If I cannot cry, then take my eyes and exchange them for rain
jǫrð Oct 21
He died here
And his soul
Says, with the
"Look away
Child, avert
Your eyes,
From these
You are
Powerless to

Look to the
Colors ive
Painted high
Those who
Could, will
Never help"
We admire
The sunset
And search
The astral
The History: I sat where he was hit for a while, they say I shouldn't be upset, I didn't watch him die, I was merely there for the precursors to the event. How is that any better? I look away from the crosswalk, to my left. I see the sky painted the most gorgeous sunset each time I miss him. I weep, because this was all entirely preventable and everyone just looked away when something could have been done months in advance, after I said something. Now nothing can bring him back, and they just don't think about it.
Jamesb Sep 7
Its strange how sound exists,
How silence fits around
The noise that may be far
Or may be near,
Yet always in the gaps
Within the noise
There is the sound
Of nothingness

I am noise and action
An assault upon the senses
Of everone it seems
In earshot or worse yet
Within the range
Of touch or eyes meet,
Close enough to sense
My inner turmoiled demons

Well soon enough,
Albeit not soon enough
For some,
My noise will diminish
My actions still,
And where I once crashed
About there will be purely
Blessed quiet.

There are times when even for me, enough is enough
Nat Lipstadt Aug 16
~for Isabel, Alex & Wendy, Theo & Rose~

be reading Whitman and Hafiz,
adding some Shelley and Frost,
for (no salt) seasoning, might add in
a biblical, King Solomon’s be-loved,
sugared Song of Songs…

won’t need to go far, on my nightstand,
search & reach, to love and preach to
generations next, a lesson last & simple:

read, read, read there by learning,
how to first define, then preserve the
variety of feelings rising from within!

here’s a starter morsel from Walt,
sort of a summary of how to do it,
all well and proper…

”This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families,
read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life,. re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

Walt Whitman

Preface to Leaves of Grass, 1855.
Walt Whitman, c.1887.
August 2 2023
readying for surgery
A M Ryder Aug 3
In a senseless
Explosion of
Sound, you are
Reduced to a
Crawling thing
On the margins of
A disintegrating
World with a
Lush numbness
And peace that
Lulls the mind
Making death
Seem so easy
Can't get up
Get out
Can't think of words
Can't speak
Or write
Can't walk or move a fork
Can't give a fuvk
Much less talk
Die, dying
Need death
I must
D  I  E

need to
Nylee Dec 2022
endurance and death,
an ordinary life,
time up and gone,
a seasonal kind.

Rotting away,
fallen on ground,
I am at a far stay,
an empty home.

the wardrobe is still full,
with unowned dresses,
the book still had pages
but the story finishes.
Zywa Oct 2022
He sniffs and he *****

all air out of the bedroom --

Open the window!
Father on his deathbed

"Je leek met ieder" ("You seemed with every", 1990, Michel Bartosik)

Collection "Stall"
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