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Zack Ripley Oct 2019
The winds of change are coming soon.
You can already see them starting to affect the moon.
The winds of change make the days shorter and nights colder.
Not that that's a bad thing.
It can make people want to be closer than shoulder to shoulder.
To the trees, the winds of change are like school bus drivers.
the breeze carries their leaves away, drops them safely on the ground, then returns them bright and new when spring rolls back around.
Change can be scary. But not all change is bad.
Just think of the pumpkins and cider and good times to be had.
Kyle Duran Feb 2020
We were young,
walking around
5th avenue

Two strung out
kids from the burbs

Sun glistening
off our glazed eyes

Driving around
in a *******
with one door
smashed in

I remember your t-shirt
It said "Send me forget-me-nots"

I always gave
you **** for it

Sorry

1-27-20
What do you think?
Matthew Nov 2019
Dead roses with greying complexion
three stems bent their thorns to flimsy
to ***** a drop of blood posed on dry-rot table top

Sheets of memories in piles of petals turning to dust scattered like Custer's last stand, across sixteen hundred square feet of unlivable space

Lonely walls gawked by empty rooms behind door's locked and hinges rusted shut, echo no slamming laughter

Condemned hallways coloured by black mold spreading out like veiny fingers of black lung bordered corner to corner with ***** spider lace

Shattered windows lay in shards framed by broken smiles darkened by boarded up dreams splintered in night terrors

A wet paint sign flaking to the ground next to a heavy weaved mat with weak tea letters in red saying welcome

Heart stained felt torn to shunder tattered and frayed into clogged
hollow thick chambers
had homemade love
once upon a time.
Put my red lipstick and boots on, I was ready to party until dawn.
Had a good time on a Saturday night.

Had my best lady there and flowers in my hair.
Had a good time on a Saturday night.

Danced like a fool 'cuz tequila is fuel.
Had a good time on a Saturday night.

The caged bird was freed, like a well watered seed.
Had a good time on a Saturday night.

Drank, sang, danced, and played.
Had a good time on a Saturday night.
This is my first attempt to write off the top of my head in years. It feels like I am coming up for air after being in the darkest depths of the ocean.
Took a chance, and it went well. First time I have done that in a long time. I need to take more chances.
Abbyss Mar 2019
The breathtaking moments r the ones that count
The ones where time stops and your heart just wants to shout
Cherish the magic, and savour the beauty
For as suddenly as they happen
As unexpectedly can the world destroy them
Capture the laughter, and remember the love
That precious moment where your heart skips a beat
And u feel endless joy from your head to your feet
Hold on to that feeling
And never believe your heart is beyond healing
Your world may shatter
Your soul may darken
Fight these times, they're not what matter

The moments that count are the ones where time stops and your heart just wants to shout
Aaron LaLux Mar 2019
Let’s put the pieces together
form the remnants of our broken hearts,
let’s tear down these walls,
without tearing each other apart,

pulled in several different directions,
by several different girls,
each one of them in a way a reflection,
of every emotion that’s ever occurred,

so each one of them is special,
which is why the Single Life is preferred,

On a rooftop in Brisbane,
livin’ the business but the thrill is gone,
still I B.B. King,
still I Stay Calm & Carry On,

no crown though,
but best believe beef still gets ground slow,
all I know is Life’s a trip,
so what kinda trip are you on?

∆ LaLux ∆
Brisbane 2019
Jack Shannon Feb 2019
I remember days spent rocking to and fro on a boat with no particular place to go, just waiting for the next race, sandwich in hand which is somehow filled with sand, though none is in sight. The massive grin as I almost fall in, and a look of disappointment as he realises I’m not completely soaked to my skin.

I remember nights spent under electric lights, rolling bowls down an artificial green, and seeing him clap and cheer if I got anywhere near.

I remember piles and piles of meat being grilled, Ivor looking perfectly chilled as the barbecue flamed around his ears, always calm and happy to be cooking, ribs and burgers and sausages and steak, always burnt a few by ‘mistake’ which just happened to find their way to the dog.

I remember him smiling.

I remember singing with him in the car, on our way to do something somewhere, voices raised high, without a care for the tune, or pitch, and even the lyrics were mostly substituted with anything we came up with at the time. Belting Les Mis together for the 42nd time that trip because we had forgotten to take any other CD’s.

I remember how proud he looked when he showed me the first Potato he took home from the new allotment, trying to justify the days of work digging and toiling, plowing and boiling in a summer heat that couldn’t seem to keep him inside, for the sake of more courgettes than you could shake a stick at.

I remember crying, and him telling me it was okay to feel this way, that it just means we cared, and not to be ashamed to let the tears fall.

I remember watching him sit in the garden, Toby at his feet, content to just watch the world go by, only the occasional fly to bother him. He just sat, a small smirk on his face, happy with the pace of the world as it was, the afternoon sun just starting to sink. I wish I could remember what he said as I joined him.

I remember him as he was, as he will always be in my mind and my heart.
A poem I’ve written (and still editing) for my Step-Dad’s funeral next week. Pretty depressing, but I felt like I wanted to get this out now, rather than bottling it up.
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