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Andrew Rueter Nov 2020
I don’t want to consume art to escape my life
I want art that makes me confront my life
I want art that uncovers my blind faults
and reveals my secret triumphs.
What do I need to change?
Why do I need to change?
How do I need to change?
And why is the time for change now?
These questions help me escape from needing escapism.
If you would like to feel happiness
You must chase the sadness
And spread the smile overall faces

There are always places
To everyone to live and get wishes
Respect yourself by respecting the others
God will give you your demands

The earth is our mother
Her heart is so better
She plants mercy everywhere
Her fruits are kinder

Her plants are welfare
We must cooperate and not go far
the time will bow
the rain will do
and greeted you

with green leaves and rainbow
the shadow of lights will grow
to draw your shape to go
your image be known at  all
there is always a place to get happy and this place will not be wide. it could be at your heart search at it and you will find
Nat Lipstadt May 2019
late May, “sheltering in place,”
the perfection of the day, a descendant
of thousands of years of predecessors,
the elements in concert, expert-wise in the ways
of coordination of sky, wind and ocean caressing
to make poems come so easy, just breeze pluck ‘em

but this heart lies heavy in the noisy stillness,
for one intercept repeats itself,
all ready already, wrote of that, many times prior,
all the parimutuel betting/writing combinations
user exhausted, each one shouting, too late,
you wrote that in such and such a place, in a time,
vague recalled under a name since forgotten

eyes are the poem title generator random,
but all asterisked, seen that, done that,
wrote that, passages that are passengers
trying to hop aboard without paying,
the fare is no fair, and the style gone quaint,
no one wants to read the regurgitated,
my rapacious pen^^^ has stolen them back anyway

my pen now, flat on desk, good only for grocery & scratching off
my countless to-write, to-do lists,
but poem writing conspicuously absent,
this my last until, my corneas transplanted, my heart-ticking
to the beat of someone else’s drumming, but, no wisdom confession,
not what I expected from my retiring “freedom days”

did my share, and periodically one of you reminds me,
of the oldies, and the semi-smile that whispers across my drying lips
says did I write that, see the place + time denoted,
saying yes, here is proof of the when and where, and hints even
of the why, but the whys and wherefores, all crossed off,
the run is over, was a good one, but this time pride will not go
before the fall, for here it is springtime and the spring in the step,
does not launch more than an inch, ground bound, and when,
you no longer can soar, it’s time to say no more

and my old friends come to sing me to rest,
Joni reminds me I have no river to skate away on,^
my feet can no longer fly, lyrics like old honey, stuck no pouring,
Bobby closes my shop, with a young man’s prophecy,
knowing it is the hour that my ship has come in...
and though my moment is in this second, perfection, thinking,
peace to you all, remembering that peace is an unceasing changeling,
my piece is spoken, been trying to leave but this is it,
“it’s all over now baby blue”^^

“Oh, the time will come up
When the winds will stop
And the breeze will cease to be breathin'
Like the stillness in the wind
Before the hurricane begins
The hour that the ship comes in”^^

Shelter Island
Memorial Day Weekend 2019
he was
a mast
his cries
of antecedence
when it
tore rings
in these
statuary dramas
and weren't
discursive though
his mindset
left his
quarters skeptical
there yet
darkness pervaded
him aghast
crimes again
A screen of darkness lurks in the heart
Proxii Apr 2016
This will be You when the Thunder strikes, Feet frozen to the ground.
Lost in the grip of lust.
You are man, but I am Fire.
Ignatius Hosiana Sep 2015
Well sometimes you realize that its on your own **** that the flies survive
And on it the cockroaches and other species are alive
Sometimes you learn that though you wish life was a fairy tale
Even it isn't cinderrella's your ****** story's all you want to tell
Some things get your eyes open and bloom gratitude
From knowing that you have earned great wisdom from Hozitude
Some people will always think they are young once
But believe me you there's always younger in every chance you have to dance
So once people throw dirt on you, just grow beautiful flowers
And when they **** on you, think of it as April showers
For with time like me you'll come to realize the moments you cry
Are the funniest stories and funkiest poems to write
You would do anything at some age, including telling God a lie
Just to have an opportunity of going back to re-try it
Some day you will know that while on the wrong roads
Like Soul, some people encounter their salvation
And satisfaction even without getting all the answers to their questions
Yes...some day, something will steal all the loads
And the funny thing is when the loneliness is gone, even a little bit
You realize that it was great company and you miss it
Sometimes you find yourself stuck in a life that's practically a torment
But hey, there's always a purpose for the joy and hurt of every moment
Bijan Nowain Mar 2015
It is the end of times
Sound of fate in the chimes
Up rises the living dead
Filling thoughts full of dread
Creepily moving, ominous woe
Sea of the departed, hobbling slow
Gnarled teeth, eating flesh
Craving blood warm and fresh
Waves of corpses, a lifeless tsunami
Lookout world, here comes the zombies!
Serenity Elliot Sep 2014
Today the train wasn’t packed
Although moving space, it lacked
Someone got their bag caught in the doors, fact
And a woman elbowed me without much tact.

Luckily the man on the platform always has a smile
Which makes me happy while I wait a while
So I’m not in a bad mood at the end of the mile
That I travel, then queue at the escalator in single file

It is a relief to reach the suddenly cool air
And the breeze calms me as it ripples through my hair
I am then in no need of a jacket as I settle in my chair
And I forget about the cost of my journey’s fare

— The End —