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George Krokos Nov 2023
Money can be like water as it flows through our hands
and the more we have to do with it the more it demands.
Money seems like water as it passes between our fingers
and the longer we have to deal with it the more it lingers.
Money is like water as it's grasped with our hands
and the firmer we hold it the more it withstands.
Written in 2020
A comparison of money to water in 3 couplets.
I S A A C Jul 2023
scrolling or snoring
calls from men and divine i am ignoring
ponder on topics not so boring
trying time, double my dosage
ivory mind, cracked porcelain
back to scrolling then snoring
either wrapped up in work or my blanket
my daydreams like lightening
suddenly flash, reality i cannot grasp
then a voice follows mumbling crass
words, worlds, bridges, roads
open doors then immediately close
it is scary, it is a journey
that my soul has been yearning
discerning 3rd eye glowing
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2022

7:05 AM Sun Aug 14 2022

this com-plaint again?

a FPOTD^ comes on like a summer cold,
fast, annoying and unexpected in mid-August, requiring
instant attention, dueling satisfaction, immediate ****** completion.

‘tis no secret to those who love me (why else would
you be so foolish to read this scribble), that I am a sadly ****,
fading desirable, somewhat literate, old man of advancing years.

(here my conscience inserts fiddling doddering old fool,
but a successful old men
Senatorial filibuster denies passage of this clause)

I confess my symptoms, without shame, but with deep anger,
that I’ve failed myself, permitted the slow decay to gain secure
footholds in the Black Mountains of my body.

my hands do no tremble, yet, my gait is not a oldster shuffle, yet,
with a squint, can still read some fine print, even find the balance
resources for a near-daily moderate paced, 4 mile walkabout.

what then do you fail to grasp?

Exactly. Every gesture, every step, touching, task-moderate is a calculus of deliberate exactitude, so refined, an-ever-so, careful
UNhurried grasping of my fave 19oz. Macintosh mug.

deep seated aches in extremities, bending requires malice aforethought, long drives requires reassembly to remove me from
the driver’s seat, don’t ask about recovery from trunk unloading!

the day begins. shall not catalogue the many mini-acts that will
be performed, combining balance and fine minute movements,
there will be grumbling aplenty, screams of Joy & Pain,

for such is life when you’re are in the finale act!

Bluntly, then, recap,
the gangrene is deep in the places where there is
no recovery possible, no forgiveness available, and the stench
of aging, the old man stink is musk-masked, but unmistakable
and I grasp each arriving second with alacrity, care.


“And Mr. H. will demonstrate
Ten summer sets he'll undertake on solid ground
Having been some days in preparation
A splendid time is guaranteed for all.”^^

8:17 AM
Shelter Island

^ First Poem of the Day

^^ “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” by John Lennon and Paul McCartney
Jennifer DeLong Feb 2022
It all seems to fade
It creeps along fading into
shades of grey
you fill the linger of it's haunting memory
as you grasp so tightly
it can't be kept in your grasp
you can only have it's joy
as it happens to exist
Sadly you don't know it only
will be for a short time
so as you feel the sadness
you mind wanders to the
it's only gonna fade into a grey memory
you can't control it's time
or change it's ending
it will slowly fade away
Leaving you lost in a sadness
wishing it could have lasted longer
outta your control
it's just how it happens to be
So say goodbye
and let it fade
into a distant memory
© Jennifer L DeLong 🦏
John McCafferty Jun 2021
A singular urge is a first,
reach out and stretch to grasp what's ahead.
Craving the crest of a wave,
we're high on the day as it's made.

Each is a slave where emotions are led,
fixed with impatient aches when we age.
Hard to remember which intentions were sent,
resetting said objectives of late.

Targets in sight from the white of your eye, these short lived events curl up in death.
Less than a wisp as it fades into air,
rolling along to reclaim what we shared.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2021
I shake time's grasp with firm shrug
Before I know it
Again feel its tug
Then spit in its face
It spits right back
Taking position on top of my back
I guess we are stuck together for good
Stays longer than I wish it would
I wish that time didnt exist and every moment could be stopped or skipped at our convenience
Every step I take towards living,
I'm stepping away from my calling
I'm stepping everywhere
end up getting nowhere
in search of stepping stones,
to move up the ladder
without grasping the idea
that these stones,
in due time,
will be steps I climb
up the downstair.
Am I trying to climb the ladder to nowhere?
Am I stepping up or down?
Am I kicking myself around?
PM Oct 2020
I'm losing my last grasp
on what we come to know
as a reality for so many years
and with that, I let go and fall,
fall to all the unknown, a void
to a road not paved, a future
full of unknown and I can't
help but smile at the ideas
of endless possibilities.
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2020
Teach me
I have not

Let me
Explain rightly
You have already
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Insight
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