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time sobers
blurred moments
slurred statements
deterred growth,
and hurt faces
Zywa 3d
Grandpa is bony,

his mouth speaks clearly, even --

though he says nothing.
Poem "Grootvader" ("Grandfather", 2019, Bart Moeyaert)

Collection "Actively Passive"
Robert Ronnow Feb 13
There are 12 types of joy:
simple joy
almost joy
systemic joy
Saturday joy
expressing joy
knowing joy
all joy
max joy
constant inputs of joy
single greatest joy
sacrifice or joy
the face of joy
at the periapsis of earth’s orbit.
SL Feb 9
Deep into the darkness of my head
Multiple individuals came nearing
These are slowly becoming clearer
These individuals started to have
Their own say of what they can do
Suddenly I didn't know who I am
Am I rude, a selfish person or an evil one
Or is it the opposite
Am I knid, caring, helpful
I honestly doubt it's the second one
When I wake or come back into light
All I questioned
Is Who Am I
Having people tell me who I am or not. It's hard to know who someone is
Psych-o-rangE Jan 15
A song
A birthday
A book
A person
A love
A trust
A memory

The - point to this

Numb pain, thoughts in vain, wade in space,
Just the sunset on my face which slowly fades

Fingers of death reach to cover my eyes, touches my cold face, envelope the memory of all that slipped away.

I'm feeling - for hands
How I feel when I forget the next song I want to play
Anne Molony Nov 2023
I kiss you as if to confirm you are here. With me. Not going anywhere.

To confirm your presence.

I kiss you as I kiss your hands, as I rub your hands, massaging them to make sure they are real. In disbelief, perhaps that it is your hand in mine and that I have the pleasure of holding it.

I run my fingers down your back, soft, your arms, sturdy. I clutch a wiry coil of hair, yours, in my fist.

I smooth your face. I kiss your face.

It is soft. It is safe. It is kind. It is right.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2023
“The executioner’s face is always well hidden”

a Bob Dylan lyric

mine own “ex,” in chest encased, silent, with grimacing smile,
happy to be of sir-vice, sent home unhappy, cause his cut,
not quite deep enough
this time,
though nearly succeeded,
but his biz is an-all-or-none inclusive Swifty tour, disillusioned,
he don’t get paid unless he brings my punched ticket to a glorious
sadness conclusion

someone asked (axed in local accent) if I’m nearer my god
having survived despite my best efforts at self destruction,
to which I’m smiling when uttering a “heartfelt prayer” of
Hell No!

cause the channel always been open and either side can initiate when so desired, the gates of love always open,
so wasn’t surprised when playing with my matches,
he went silent, but knew fully well, Mr. G a risk taker,
put his roulette chips on a “basket bet,” (1)
needing a double 00, to collect,
because, shoot, the timing was good…


ain’t naive enough to hope that a prayerful request
would not be met with a “now you want some intercession?”
and a heavenly sneer, cause we always been perfectly clear,
with each other, ask and you won’t receive, and none of that
what have you done for me lately razzamatazz,
nah, the record impurities gray
and no pencil erasures allowed…

knowing that the executioner will be back’ round someday,
my wounded heart too tempting to pass up twice, and
that’s ok, this old man learned to live with
a not entirely pleasant uncertainty,

”This old man, he played one,

He played knick-knack on my thumb;

With a knick-knack paddywhack,

Give the dog a bone,

This old man came rolling home.”

but he didn’t play two, having no kazoo!
Basket Bet

A basket bet, also known as a five-number bet, is where you bet that either 0, 00, 1, 2, or 3 will hit. It’s always these five roulette numbers. Since you need the 00 to make this bet happen, it’s limited to American roulette.
Sadie Grace Aug 2023
She used to be alive
Not hanging on by a thread
Not worrying if she’d survive
She was living life instead
Then the lights went out
And the fears began to shout
And she sat in the dark with no desire to face another day
Out of place, out of grace
She retraced all the ways she had failed
Then she thought why waste another day?
There’s nothing left to say
Nothing left but today
Plans already underway
But there must be a reason to stay
Written the day before I went inpatient
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2023
early daylight across my face sweeping,
gingerly ginger-yellow heated by the low-
risen sun, it confirms what my beating heart
yet signals, granted us, a new twenty and four,

but no more,

for certainty is not a human condition, so we cover
our eyes, not from the sun-rays, but in deference and
thankfulness and  gratitude, that we have one more chance
to the world distribute, blessed human loving kindness, unique,
the greatest gift most excellent we human possess to give away freely!

Jewely 23, Twenty Twenty Three
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2023
I cannot escape memories
Absence haunts all I do
When eyes close your face is what mind sees
Every place I go there are traces of you
No matter where I go or what I do I feel you there
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