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Carlo C Gomez Apr 2023
~
Major blue empty:
first listen to the weather pattern;
the scaffolding remains,
but the holding songs
of color are threadbare;
simulacra of imperfection
simply swirls like seagrass,
a pointillist matrix
of rainfall rustles
gathering scene -- nothing
stands on its own initially;
but after a few localized
moments it collects
to articulate this silence,
as each sound looms and subsides
in the garden of
selective speculation.

~
Zywa Feb 2023
Duties fascinate

me, but when they're done I know --


they don't mean too much.
"Het Bureau - Het A.P. Beerta-Instituut" ("The Office - The A.P. Beerta-Institute", 1998, Han Voskuil), page 916

Collection "Not too bad [1974-1989]"
Zywa Jan 2023
They look at me, what

did I say?, I thought I heard --


someone else speaking.
Collection "Foghorn"
Zywa Jan 2023
I enjoy writing

tear-off calendar poems --


The same every year.
Rereading deepens understanding

Collection "New Ago"
Cierra Woods Dec 2022
To understand it, you have to meditate on it.
Block out the chaos and white noise.
Some messages lie clear, while others are deep as the sea.
Without proper caution, one might drown than swim with pleasure.
The words that are etched on paper are constructed to make one think, compelling the mind to become active.
Once you’re into it—it becomes more than didactic.
As one focuses the mind—much is revealed!
What is revealed is like grapes yielding wine and olives yielding oil.
But until then the mystery remains sealed.
Lacey Clark May 2022
it takes me all day
to finish a bowl of soup-
it is cold and sits on my desk,
i chip away at it until it's gone

i feel like i'm holding
a pile of Lego bricks,
sorting them by color
instead of connecting their parts

my eyes wander to
only what interests me,
and i tend to move by
either branching or spiraling

my feet are running on hot pavement
and i'm exhausted,
by the time i look around,
i'm in the same place
JKirin Apr 2022
I’m chasing the ghost of attention
through the pages and pages of words.
every time I lose concentration,
I am feeling a little more lost—
hoping, there is something to guide me
at the depths of my heart of my soul—
something able to shine, inspire me,
as I fight to recover control.
about losing focus
Dave Robertson Mar 2022
As nightly, screens scream,
buckle, near break
with images of blistered humanity
abroad
with normal folk caught
in quick-quick-slow anxiety,
at home
a fat clown
knights a *****
Anais Vionet Feb 2022
A famous alumnus is visiting the university. I got an invitation several days ago to a small, socially distanced, masked, focus group. It was to be early on a Saturday morning - so, why not? I was excited to see her - I’m a fan.

We were a diverse group of about 20 (covid tested before admittance) students and I was in the back row. Seating was offset so everyone could see everything perfectly. I craned and swiveled, when her entourage came into the room. Then, there she was - I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear (behind my mask), we clapped, excitedly. She wore a navy business suit. A jacket over a black blouse with slacks and black shoes.  

She gave a talk, about the challenges America faces. On YouTube, her speech-giving voice always seemed artificial, cold, harsh and brittle. Here, she was low-key, motherly, whip smart, personable and humorous - everything I had hoped for.

Then there was a question and answer session (NOT easy questions - did I mention whip smart?) followed by a no touching reception line. And ***, she’s a foot away. She seemed a lacquered and corrected sort of person - professional - I guess you’d say.

Everyone was gently elbow bumping with her, so I did too. You’d say your name and class. “Anais Vionet, freshman,” I said. I wanted to say “I’m a BIG fan” but I thought I might come off as either fawning or even worse someone bent on wasting her time.

We both smiled, me behind my mask and I bobbed a goodbye nod, but as I went to step away she said, “How’s your Grandmother?” I was shocked but I managed to say, “She’s fine, thank you.” To which she replied, “Please tell her I said hello.” I just nodded, “yes” as a sort of “I will,” and stepped away.

I glanced around, there was no handler by her side and she wasn’t wearing an earpiece - how she knew me I have no idea - but now I think she’s considering a run in 2024. My grandmère would be a whale of a donor.

What a bizarre encounter.
university life
Steve Page Jan 2022
Enjoy this.
Give focus.
Take pleasure.

Ritualise
each movement,
each breath.

And then
repeat.
Trying not to get ahead of myself
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