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Nat Lipstadt Jun 8
As HL Mencken put it,
“The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false-face for the urge to rule it.”

<>
You can drop that History course now
I am a quiet, silent man,
Dwelling deep within myself.
What I long to say aloud,
I pour into a letter’s shell.

She, playful, fleeting like the breeze,
All that I express in words,
She replied with a single image,
And spoke with her eyes unheard.

How beautiful those nights once were,
What magic lived in those old days!
Today again, my heart desires
To send you a letter… always.

But this time, through an artist's hand,
This letter shall reach your grace.
Some words of the heart remain unsaid,
That only colors can embrace.

To the painter I make one humble plea
When you read my letter’s line,
Sketch her soul upon the page,
And let her truest face shine.

Let us see
If my words still hold the weight
Of truth, of ache, of silent grace.
And if she, when the artist paints,
Still wears that same beloved face...
Or was it all just well-performed
a role she played through posed displays?
Some actors do receive lifetime achievement awards, others just leave behind unforgettable roles in someone’s memory.
Take me somewhere slow and easy.
Take me somewhere where the pain can’t be felt through the waves as they crash against the shore.
Take me somewhere where the skies are so blue that their brilliant hues can bind the hurt.
Take me somewhere where the pressure of life doesn’t consume me, as the music lulls and keeps anxiety at bay.
Take me somewhere where I’m not expected to bind my joy to pay the people’s currency.
Take me to a place where life is gentler, where the wind caresses my face and the sun warms my days.
Please take me away from here.
I’ll find my peace on the horizon, out on the open highway.
It’ll find me as the moon lays its song on me, soft lullabies for a weary heart.
And I’ll be okay, I promise, once I leave this place.
I’ll leave the pain and all the damage here.
I’ll lay it down for good, all that this town has put me through.
All the tears and tired souls with plastic hearts and stone faces.
Take me somewhere where the air is crisp and clean, and I’ll breathe easier as I lean into the breeze.
Take me somewhere slow and easy.
Anywhere but here…

-Rhia Clay
Lizzie Bevis May 25
Shoulders back,
chin up high,
I'm trying to look normal,
but this ID tells a lie,
and it is making me look
like a criminal.

This photo is ideal
with a serial number
on a mugger's profile,
on a database all alone.
My identity is distilled to this:
a stranger with a face of stone.

The camera captured everything
except my personality,
my smile, my kind eyes
and what makes me, me.
As my face became a moment,
falsified for bureaucracy.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Still mask, that's what's left- a face,
A canvas for words I've never said.
Your fingers tracing the lace,
The only  thing I ever dread.

You place the letters by my side,
Silent tear rolling down your cheek,
Words tangled in webs, trying to hide,
Knowing that I'll never speak.

You lay white lilies by ice-cold hands,
Close to cover the letters as it lands.
5/5/25
Ghostcat Apr 26
I wear my face, a mask of stone,  
A quiet facade in the world alone.  
But inside, a symphony plays its part,  
The clash of chaos, the whispers of heart.  

The voices rise, the tides they turn,  
Emotions flicker, steady to burn.  
To let them out—what price to pay?  
Will they take the light of day away?  

Unstable, yes, but not undone,  
A prism reflecting more than one.  
Each shard of doubt, each twist of pain,  
Adds depth to the self I can’t explain.  

Don’t fear the dark—it shapes the hue,  
The hidden parts are also you.  
For every shadow, there’s a grace,  
A fragile beauty in this space.
Toothache Apr 13
Early winter,
Trouble brewing.
Do I know what the **** I'm doing?
When we meet again will it be clear?
Do I know what I'm doing here?

Spoons still drying,
Sunshine waning,
The once inviting dance is draining.
Caring for myself,
More than someone else,
is not something I find entertaining.

But when I'm cooking,
When I'm cold,
I connect with something very old.
Memories become old as well
In a backwards kind of parallel

To do lists need belief suspension,
I don't have my drivers license,
What do I know about rear suspension.

I need to get my driver license,
But first I need to change my name.
Tomorrow's a bitter pill to swallow,
I don't think I like this game.
Burning against rays of cool winds
Which sound like aeroplanes
Darting across the blue sky
As soft music flickers candles
Inside dim room lit by a chandelier
Which swings high and shines
Crowning those below with a feeling
That the shadows which were cast
Had no reason to cause any fright
Simply because the jewels which shone
And the pearls which dangled overhead
Were not something to fear or banish
Simply something to cherish at moonlight
As the seaplanes dived through the firmament
Neptune made an eerie sound of silence
Leaping into the puddle which reflected
Having found the courage for something beautiful
When the sky is blue and the lights are on
Made your way up and made a splash
Steve Page Mar 23
When is a selfie not a great selfie?
When I’m not recognised.
When proportions are all out of balance.
When I look dead round the eyes.

When is a selfie not a real selfie?
When I look more like my father.
When family traits take a front seat.
When my lost hair is a disaster.

When is a selfie not a true selfie?
When my features just aren’t right.
When my chins are lost in shadow.
When I look like I just lost a fight.

When is a selfie a much better selfie?
Only when I’m unprepared.
When I can’t worry about how it turns out
When I’m fully caught unawares.

I have a great selfie, a much better selfie,
One that was made by my daughter.
You see a great selfie is made a great selfie
When family can make it with laughter.
true
Celestial Mar 22
A welcome warning,
Don't look at those who are mourning.
They'll **** your soul dry,
With their own want to die.

Through that, the track is a breeze.
Just follow my footsteps with ease.
Well, maybe not the stumbles.
We might take a few tumbles.

The circle of life rotates fast,
It's so easy to get stuck in the past.
Far ahead is the present,
To reach it would be pleasant.

Be careful not to overshoot,
The future will come to boot,
Worry into your system.
Ones like "I should have kissed him."

Let my words be a guide,
I won't be here for the long ride.
I figured it out too quick,
and now every second is a *****.

Thank you for the blessing of your presence.
I rarely get to indulge such essence.
Good luck traveling on.
At least I'll enjoy one last dawn.
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