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Mark Wanless Nov 2019
I don't know
  
i eat the food of the soft and hard work
no time is left for a god to appear
cross the river and find a path that's worth
a life of effort all live with the fear

of not existing in the mind of self
and what we call god is a band aid that
is better than nothing as we bleed out
our life upon a tabula raza

which is true yet malleable so now
we walk and talk the walking dead maybe
not a word is true that's thought softly in
a moment of real yell's and we follow

as slaves to the inner tune unheard that
can be peaceful if we try i don't know
inspired
Poetoftheway Oct 2017
this old poet, one of the first, to see your wave,
when he was playing knick-knack paddy whack on his shoe,
the old poet then played two, and said,
yes, I will follow you

Please
imaging-imaging that old poet with a glanceable cursory,
a small smile whispered, with entourage of a nod and a wink,
stands, knowing he is in the delivery room, a witness,
to first steps of a babe starting a new life
marvelous miracle by touching a button, a new line written,
not crossed but connecting by pressing "Follow"
with a finger from a hand, a human fringe,
attached to a breathing mind and a thinking heart,
the first to follow you, a ceremonial gesture of
innovation magic incantation, a new moon blessing,
a living person believing, remembering, the longest ago,
his first own graceful acknowledgement and eyes speak,

yes, I will follow you

the new poet, astonished at this induction to the smallest
Hall of Fame that they alone own the only key, study that
number, that number 1, the first to follow, kinda looking over
their shoulder to make sure the old poet still there on the morrow,
sure enough there are now two, safe in the back pocket,
a tabulation of humans who speak volumes of trust, saying,
yes, I will follow you

the old poet, imaging-imaging the babe, dancing round
the room, invigorated, challenged and the faucets pouring,
can't write it down as fast as the trains arriving disgorging,
words unique in new combinations and the rush of blood
from heart to head to those newly literary fingers bleeding
happy creatures of creation as if they are Noah
setting sail to save us with verbs and adjectives
two by two all for now species unheard of

the old poet wants to send cautionary notes, the path strewn
with frustrations of no inspiration ditches and inescapable cliches
that sound fresh but just aren't, the disappearing satisfaction,
the inability to get it just perfect, and so many obstacles
to be prophesied,
but he does not, these things must be self taught,
today let it suffice the initiation, the first crowning of
**yes, I will follow you
for this the way of the poet

10/16/17 5:09pm
what an honorific terrific
to be the first to follow
Aaron E Oct 2019
With each breath,
the words we left erupt into contingency
clever quips afford an inference sold, stark in it's consistency.

If ever I was taught a thrift aligning threads along a canvas.
Head to toe, snake oil or poison, chalking up life's mysteries
The needle treads along indifferent rhythms
often missed in lieu of lecture
lifted structure, painted fracture
vivid summer, lazy *******

lay the meaning on at will along alliterated thrill
fulfill the seam content to spill
to drill the point in that much faster.

tears of sadness
tears of laughter

so..
_______________­_

Why does it work
to levy silence or flirt
to learn a line of some actress
or divide up the earth
assert a picture infatuated with prying for worth
when it ain't there.
"I don't care,
I ain't tryna get hurt."

Have a word, agg a bird on, classic
campaign
who's drinking champagne,
who's getting turned on

Choose a new frame for the tragic.

Are we laying the groove
or are we playing in traffic.
No spoilers.
23Dreptate Oct 2019
Its a swivel,
A swivel of wish.
Wishing our fathers had fought
As our grand fathers hoped they would have fought.
Now we dwindle. As the flag of our fathers crumble.
And out blessings become a curse from our daily annihilation.
Still we profess illumination.
Nylee Sep 2019
A**** real and reality
I follow the blurred real pictures
Which spiral away from divinity
.
Mark Wanless Sep 2019
logic is only
logical if
you follow it
haiku
Bec Aug 2019
Why do we spend our time obsessively checking the number of followers we have?
Let’s take a stab at the facts
Why do you care if they follow you back?
When you lay your head down, you’re sad on your own in bed
You can’t stop thinking about what those haters said
You better get that **** knocked out of your head
Maybe pick up a book or go outside instead
Ruhee Aug 2019
Stunning souls
Marvelous are you,
You are strong and
that's the reason
you are here
Holding a beautiful heart.

Fathima Ruhee
@inking__scribbler
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