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Each Tuesday morning the garbage is out
Black and blue bins left there like bruises
As if cars fight the curb all Monday night
And it's always the curb who loses
So many topics, so little time.
Carl D'Souza Jul 31
I realise and appreciate that my joy and happiness
depends not on my work alone
but also depends on the work of thousands of people
in a well-functioning society surrounding me.
For example:
When I’m using the internet
I appreciate that thousands of workers at the internet company
are working to bring me internet.
When I’m using water
I appreciate that thousands of workers at the water company
are working to bring me water.
When I’m using electricity
I appreciate that thousands of workers at the electricity company
are working to bring me electricity.
When I’m shopping at the supermarket
I appreciate that thousands of workers at the supermarket-company
are working to bring me groceries.
When I need my garbage collected
I appreciate that thousands of workers in the government
are working to collect my garbage.

I wonder
what are all the social-processes working
to support and facilitate my joy and happiness?
Poetic T May 25
Were suffocating ourselves
           with our own
              plastic bag of denial.

Let us recycle our outdated
and carry it another way.
Isaac Ward May 21
I wrote for 10 minutes,
A lifetime of carefully chosen words,
But the app crashed and closed and burned,
And my finished poem disappeared.
No secrets         deep enough into the soil

                        w   m
No secrets   s              long enough to drown

No secrets   f      high enough to be out of sight

No secrets  r u n  fast enough to slow down

No secrets blur out of focus to erase an image

An image, a snapshot of the truth that slipped out

Once you fReE yourself from your entanglement of lies

You can no longer EDIHIDE from masking the truth

sam Apr 13
It’s been three months since I gave it all away,
Traded in my stripes, sold my youth at a discount price.
And walked away from you.
I made my peace with stone beaches set in the shadows of those endless forests,
Said my goodbyes to the mountain ridges that tower over
the green fields of that old glacial valley,
And in the end, I made peace with you.
The memories of life in a old log cabin,
Wood stove roaring, dishes cleaned, blankets heavy on lovers' bodies.
All these things left behind,
And you.
I move forward. With my chin up and chest out,
I tell myself to forget,
Forget the rank, it’s only pride,
Forget the youth, it’s only life,
And forget the loss of you, it’s only love.
One day, as I march through the shadow of the final valley,
I will find peace once again,
And I will remember you,
My love, my loss, my life, it is only time.
Seema Apr 10
A sleep, so sound
In the alley florished
With green ground
The twinkling of stars
And the horning
Of rough cars,
Disturbs my sleep
That I've fallen
Into deep
Where my eyes are blind
With deaf ears
And a dead mind
A few hands grab
By my soaked frame
Just to drag
Me, out from the pool
Where I was caught in,
Shoved in with a tool
The beats has stopped
My heart aches no more
As my body dropped
In the freezing fog
Out of sight
In an aisle morg
I called out loud
But the airs freeze
In a chilly cloud
My eyes so still
My breaths gone
My bones fractured
My face all torn
My identity stolen
I am no one known
Like any other corpse
I am a garbage, that's thrown....

Spilling imagination. Fictional
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