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forgotten are
those bright
autumnal colours
of the freshly fallen
no longer able
to offer
a crisp rustling
with each step
a whisper that
invites child
and adult alike
to kick
   and shuffle
ignoring the bite
of frost
by noses
and fingertips

those downbeat leaves
lately of such
seasonal delight
have been rejected
by bough
   and branch
drifting meekly
without protest
or wrenched
from arboreal familiarity
by gusting wind
or gloved hand
turned to mulch
by constant downpours
muddily trodden upon
without second thought
clinging to any
passing boot
trainer or shoe
only to be scraped
and scuffed
on pavement
   or curb
stomped in a puddle
left behind
i was late
through no fault
of my own
at least
that's what
i tell myself
just one of those
occasions where
try as you might
the universe
won't allow you
to leave
on time
at the threshold
one final
pat of pockets
to check
i had all
that i needed
looking up
to gauge the need
for coat
or umbrella
i witness
an inhumane globule
of avian faeces
viscous and creamy
in colour
and consistency
upon the path
two steps ahead
of me
i see no sign
of the culprit
hearing only
its cacophony
of enjoyment
or maybe
into the distance
wading through
the shallows
a dip
in this sea
does not
at first
particularly appealing
the surface is
a microcosmic tempest
of shingle
and sand
upon toes
upon ankles
upon shins

a tickle
of seaweed
leaves paranoia
where sense
and logic
should reside
i'm wondering
where sea snakes
are usually found

against each swell
to keep shoulders
above water
somebody calls out
and laughs
they are not
by these
alien forms
ever closer
leaving me
no option but
to struggle
to remain
as they pass
too close
for comfort

when the depth
forces me
to give up
my toehold
of sand
or shell
to tread water
and embrace
the solitude
i will see
how truly clear
the waters
can be
even if
   i could
go back
in time
make changes
to the things
that didn't quite
work out
the way i wanted
have a second
at putting
something right
even if
there was
an opportunity
to make
the entirety
   of everything
i can honestly say
i'm not certain
i would

i've seen
far too many
and tv shows
about time-travel
to make me think
it's probably
a lot more effort
it's worth
Ylzm Sep 2021
The ground leveled before my foot stepped
The chasm bridged as I blindly crossed
The world shaped and changed that I become
Then I saw in ignorance I'd asked
Kelly Mistry Aug 2021
Cycles of pain
Circles of healing
What did I learn

Did I hold on
                         to the pain and miss
                                                              th­e lesson

Trauma can teach
But how do you know
The right lesson

We need meaning
To contextualize our pain
To start healing

If there is no meaning
Then we create one
It’s our greatest strength
Or possibly
                      our greatest weakness

I may make one meaning
You may make another

Which is right?

Time will tell
Time will heal

But in time
                     Lessons can fade

We reimagine our past
With the meanings that we make

Who can say who’s right
And who’s wrong
In your own history

Does it matter in the end?
When the lessons we seem to learn best
Are the ones we already believe

New ideas are harder
Does harder mean better?
More real?
More right?

I don’t know

I guess I will just
Continue to make meaning

Seek to heal
         And hope for the best
Raven Feels May 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, the world seems unfair:|

can it be

a thousand hearts in one beat

mind slamming straight to my back

shiver on my own on a brick less track

stars I count that it takes to a far

feels in me soaring on a getaway car

truth in a taste not even real but I'm on clouds now

not even my name I remember memory fails someway somehow

burning I glide unlight

now you see me in hindsight

from the frozen read lines I have in a repressed epiphany

the overwhelm I smell till I'm choked on infinity

                                                       ­                          -------ravenfeels
D Apr 2021
I know my flaws,
I've accepted them.
You drown in yours.
Bobby Dodds Apr 2021
is 20/20."
As the tag-a-longs
And dingbats like to recite.
Well that's dumb- 20/20 is average!!
This is outrageous -even our idioms our idiotic-
So I propose a new saying,
And yes, who is the 17 year old white boy
To say anything about anything.
But hear me out,
How about instead, we say,
"Hindsight, the unluckiest symptom of consciousness,
and a hell in its own right"
Okay yeah, well, maybe it IS a bit wordy,
And yeah, okay, maybe it IS a TAD too cynical.
But since when has a teenager been anything BUT
A self-proclaimed cynic.

With stars too far to telephone,
And when telegraphs aren't a thing anymore.
We gotta make our own futures,
But when we're riding along through our
Generation of hate,
Or lovely liberalism.
Try not to check the rearview mirror
"Riding along in my funky car, Mohair suits and Jazz guitars, what's a little sugar honey?! if not to take me far
now won't you pass the mars bar? *overly epic jazz guitar and doo woppy bass licks*

I'm in a jazzy mood tonight, I need to relearn some of my jazz piano songs that I learned for band years ago,,, I may never be able to play a concerto, or any of my favorite Tartini songs, but at least I can "play that funky music white booooyyy"
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