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leolewin Apr 2023
Focus on your mind
Strengthen your body
Heal your spirit
Derrick Jones Mar 2021
Sun and moon

Flower and bloom

This is a cartoon

But also in tune

With reality

The stream flowing freely

Merrily, dreamily

The me flowing me-ly



We are Grist for the Mill

That’s the gist, I’m just a shill

In the mist, I don’t shoot to ****

I aim my arrow with love

To heal, I wield this skill

And I point my pistol high into the sky

I will throw away my shot

Again and again

So that others know where to aim

I am but a photon blasting into and out of the sun

I am all and I am one

Just begun, yet fully spun

Not just having fun, I am become
Thank you for being. If you would like to see more of my poetry, essays, and other writings, check out my blog on Medium:
rough white parchment
torn up by fine black ink
an octopus curls its legs around the deckled edges
But no ones knows
what those succinct drops of black said
in the room where "it" happens...
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Caught red-handed,
You reach for the first thing
Your grubby metacarpus can find,
Be it a sabre or quill.

You ****** and parry away
In your journal,
All in the hopes you might
Besmirch me,
And strike it rich
At the same time.

But like Dido, Queen of Carthage,
Your bags of gold
Contain only sand.

This is your hapless undoing,
Mr. Hamilton,
Despicably so.
Don't use me as a crutch,
Fall on your own sword!

Talk about a fair amount
Of revisionist's history,
But we'll save that for
Another day...

Suffice to say:
History is in the eyes of the beholder.
No need to correct me, I'm well aware the Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton duel was with pistols, not swords. Just thought I would take a little poetic license.
Angelo Oct 2017
With every letter you wrote me,
I knew you'd be mine forever.
I thought you were mine forever.
You built me a whole new world,
Villages and castles,
Forests and oceans,
From just your paragraphs.
As I read them again,
I search for the time that you were mine,
I search for your love,
For the proof that you belonged to me.
The world seemed to burn down around me,
our world crumbling with our love.
Do you know what my mother said?
You're obsessed with your legacy,
paranoid with how they deceive you.
Now, you have forfeited the place in our bed,
The place in my heart,
The place in our love.
This was inspired by the son Burn from Hamilton: A Broadway Musical
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