Written while listening to Bon Ivers' For Emma, Forever Ago
I'd imagine it with a similar tune：


Great Delusion

By：Yisselakh

Verse 1：

I tried standing in the rain
Like an indie movie scene
Even cliches have their meaning
As the film grain begins melting
Did you also think
Sink in that wishful thinking
Our great delusion

Chorus 1：

That if things had been
What they could have been
We would have been
Ceaselessly happy
Happy
Happy

Verse 2：

Now think
What would we have been
Seeking
If that mundane
Had been the state of things

Bridge:

Would you think
Would you think
Would you think
Then

Chorus 2：

That if things hadn't been
What they would have been
We would have been
Boundlessly Happy
Happy
Happy


CODA：

That's our Great Delusion
So probably it's better to let it be
That regret silently gnawing
Let's not rush back in
Shattering that good old dream
And leave us nothing
Nothing
Nothing
But the Great Numbing
Of the loss of wishful thinking

That we could have been
Happy, happy, happy

Everything you did for me is smile,
My veins feel you complete me,
Moments whisper I kiss your soft lips,
And my soul flying to heaven.

Mother of Cowards
by Michael R. Burch aka "The Loyal Opposition"

So unlike the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land,
Spread-eagled, showering gold, a strumpet stands:
A much-used trollop with a torch, whose flame
Has long since been extinguished. And her name?
"Mother of Cowards!" From her enervate hand
Soft ash descends. Her furtive eyes demand
Allegiance to her ****'s repulsive game.

"Keep, ancient lands, your wretched poor!" cries she
With scarlet lips. "Give me your hale, your whole,
Your huddled tycoons, yearning to be pleased!
The wretched refuse of your toilet hole?
Oh, never send one unwashed child to me!
I await Trump's pleasure by the gilded bowl!"

NOTE: My sonnet is a parody of the famous poem "The New Colossus" written about the Statue of Liberty by Emma Lazarus. Keywords/Tags: America, American history, liberty, United States, Emma Lazarus, The New Colossus, Statue of Liberty, Lady Liberty, torch, freedom, beacon, lamp, light, door, golden door, liberty, immigrants, immigration, refuse, homeless, poor, rich, discrimination, huddled masses, yearning, breath free, giant, fame, free, freedom of speech, independence day, New York, patriotic

there once a girl named emma... who deserved the world. we talked so much, we felt so much together through our poetry online. and even though we couldn't see each other in person, combinations of letters being the only way of communication, it was a beautiful thing. we talked a lot about our problems and lifted each other up as much as we knew how to. but life had bigger problems and... we lost contact. the thing is, i appreciated her and appreciate her now even more. she liked every poem i ever wrote, always supporting me in every way she could and it meant so much. i just didn't even realize it. she helped me through a time when i was struggling and was just trying to be happy with myself. but not once. not once.... did i ever tell her thank you. not once did i even hint it and that is the worst part about it. and it causes the worst feelings in me too. i miss her. i want to talk to her...to reconnect. to tell her that i appreciated everything and none of it was for granted. to tell her that i've moved on and am living a better life. but now i will never have that chance. never. she deleted her hp account. she deleted her instagram that she once gave me. everything is gone of her... except the messages she sent. i know she'll never see this but... thank you for everything emma. i can't thank you enough. you cared for me in a way no one ever had before and i promise i will never forget you. no matter wherever you are right now... i hope you are thriving and living your best life. and if you're not... i'll always be there for you to comfort you just like old times. once again, thank you for everything emma, i really appreciate it. take care em, i love you and i'll see you around in heaven <3

emma, 13 years old.
alfredo, 61.

emma: hi grandpa nice to see you what's your wifi-password?

alfredo: i don't have wifi.

emma: written altogether?

"he-ll-o beau-ti-ful, i-am-a-ro-bot" a manly robot said.
let's call him LIAM.

"o-my-that-can't-be-a-co-in-ci-den-ce" the mate of
his electronic soul, a womanly robot, answered. her name was EMMA.

"well-i-think-eve-ry-thing-should-be-fi-ne-then", liam
reciprocated. "we-can-go-now."

emma's robotic face glowed in red colors.
"hmmmmh... i-am-not-so-su-re-ab-out-that", she told liam.

"why-not??"

"nor-mal-ly-, a-ro-bot-wo-uld-not-act-as-hu-man-ly-as-yo-u-a-re-do-ing. how-e-ver, i-on-ly-told-yo-u that-i-wo-uldn't-be-so-su-re."

liam's entire construction started to beam with joy:

"do-es-this-me-an that-yo-u-want-me?"

emma smiled at liam.

"yo-u-bet!" she shouted in happiness.
soon, the two robots became one. and they never were separated.

never.

For Emma Ottinger “I put out (my stories) just because”

“just because”
that’s the best excuse you got girl?

cause be-ing
just
is a **** good one

way back in March
wrote a declaration^ to all those just
beginning with an iota of courage and
a good story telling
way of seeing and the
secret sauce-way
to spin my imagination in
my eye sockets
with their well words,
for I am a drinker of
the beaujolais firsts of the new grapes
of young poets

words welling springing from between
the oohs and ahs and the damns -
I wish I had wrote that...

so here’s a hero push - so many kinds of bread to
fill our baskets, please girl may I have some more?
so here’s to you - and the Great Plains that birthed you,
and the breadbasket of four poem/stories you poured out
that were so far from plain, how could you know of seas and sea foam and cobalt and mahogany human body parts?

and the speech patterns of waves that took me decades to learn?

use those “Jacob’s ladders between your fingers,”
“whistle me like a stray dog following,”
for that’s what “the kingpin of my flighty wits”
requires, for this old scribbler is now:

“firmly rooted for a girl who's bold enough
to crack the whip over her head if
ever went to war with myself.
A confidant that won't run,
won't offer half truth when
the whole of it
is all that actually matters.”

so write with that window light on and
wheat fields that can be reenvisioned as the gray-blue sea
from which I crawled out of croaking...
to read you rightly

6/25/18
10:25PM

On Monday, the cattle feed for 50 minutes.
There are nine prostituted crocodile in Honduras
and Greece. Morocco is not only the Moon
and surrounded by it. Diana showed her a time
that God very much understood. Wednesday,
feed the animals for 50 minutes. Honduran Jews,
Greeks and nine animal harlots. Morocco
is not only the moon and surrounded by it,
Diana Harris tried to show them how to show
more more often. Monday it will be your animal
feeding for 50 minutes. Honduras is the first
Greek nurse with nine prostitutes and crocodiles.
Morocco is not only the Moon and surrounded
by it. Diana's customary poison. Gamma,
than that he should limit its action to the use
of the Side of the Moon. But the suspect's Katharian.
Teens go to ask the Queen for their Pomeranian
Gen. lifestyles and wine? In ancient Greece,
Monday and Thursday philosophers and great-grandchildren
Lance's rebellious nephew Henry. God was in hell.
There is a 1 on the Moon to the moon.
Many are very bad. He knows that the day of the sun,
Apollo, and the light of present-day Amazon.
Albert's medical plan, so the Moon. Rome
this month. Women are very popular in the North.
This item can not be deleted. And it was
an abysmal level crisis in Mexico in 1964,
and many people, including "the United States,
William Hill, Europe, and John Green,"
he said, "it is a good game." Two answers:
Igor and William Williams, Vitalemens,
Goldfunts gold and blue ***** of stars and planets,
Canada's forests, hambosomas, marigolds
and two doctors from Africa, Northern consecration,
the rest of the earth, the rest of the city,
the Jupiter Moon Moon we were deceived
illegitimate and illegitimate children
in Tokyo Moon / Sun and the life of their ancestors.
"Age 64 1-9 of blood in men, blood is not bad,
not that of blood in Brazil, the Russian Natural
Qamirate Brazil is the last major climate
change in the world. Julian and animal life
of Ammon, the pad is the poet's life and legend,
history and glory in the United States the blood
of the people of Abu Dhabi.

Stomach dressed in black holes,
Heart of velvet chained with barbed wire.
Second guessing instinct,
And I attempt to trust the liar.
Sampling my memories
Try to collect what I have learned.
Bringing it, just below the surface.
Is this the life I've earned?
I'd like to believe I deserve more.
In fact, I think I will.
But as of late it seems my life
Is standing perfectly still.
And the God in me
Promises fruition.
"But it can only come,
With a trust in intuition."

3/30/17