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Robert Ronnow Nov 2023
Black lives matter. Me too.
Not my president. Give peace a chance.
Luck runs out. I like immigrants.
Power must be challenged by power.

Equal and opposite reactions.
God is the answer. Love is the answer.
Walk on the sunny side of the street. Meat feet.
Learn to drive. Wait for the train in the rain.

A girl gets sick of a rose. Mock orange.
Mediocre presidents, unnecessary wars.
Triumph and humiliation. Meditation.
Sometimes I’m tired of being me. Therefore.

Subaru. Suduko. Haiku. Hulu.
Stop on red, go on green. Orderly neighborhood.
Too tired to be angry. Too tired to do homework.
Tolstoy is the Tolstoy of the Zulus.

College campus. Saguaro, cactus.
Million dollar movie. Aliens in the bleachers.
Full length feature. TED talk, lecture.
Breathe in experience. Bring sentience into an expressible state.

Events pile up with or without an identity willing to organize them.
Events in their mere chronology make no sense.
Inability to transcend own interests. Inability to find one’s way.
Vacations and accomplishments accumulate late in life and early on.

Late in life I struggle against my insignificance.
The straight way lost. Concentrate on this: Thy will be done.
The straight way misplaced. Get over it. Someone tell a joke.
Love. Vote. Join a committee or a party.

MLK made the jump from race to class, dreamed of a brotherly nation.
Is this feeling nostalgia for the past or occipital neuralgia?
Knee surgery, plywood factory. Lost lover, lost city.
Old friends who are dead to me but still here.

Somewhere there are flowers among railroad ties.
True love between ****** partners. Dusty villages and vast cities.
Popper v. Niebuhr, impeachment inquiry.
Hassid and Muslim dress codes. French fashions.

Watch for war, **** and shower. Do the limbo.
Pay bills. The very thought of the rosy dawn makes Jack ill.
Big comfy couch, a nocturnal upon St. Lucy’s Day.
A long day’s journey into night. Truckin’.

Death comes for the archbishop. Private Ryan and Big Red One.
Absence of knowledge and intelligent beings who make things happen.
Life’s brevity and the time taken to carve the canyon.
Decibel level and ambient noise. Captain Carpenter and Mr. Flood.

Nothing but ocean, self-aware organisms and the longing they provoke.
Unit, corps, God, country. Zip code. The clocks and the docks gone and       no smoke.
Achilles and Hector. Wills and losses.
Continued existence and most of history.

A holy condition. A warrior’s position.
Walk with a limp. Don’t complain about pain.
Truth may be ascertained by considering your uncertainty.
If everyone votes and every vote’s counted, time is the mercy of eternity.
irinia Nov 2023
finding our way back again. to what? this is a steep question. I am drawing this map of words, today we should speak of what is, the roots of words, this silence their soil, these words vehicle for the inexpressible.  Gaza strip, day 52, Jordan foreign ministery says Israel is busy with genocide. what else is trully new, for sure not pain, a fundamental law unrecognized by physics. the paradox of time that goes deeper into words when we feel them. the center cannot support itself exposed in cruel eyes. fall and rise of a time we lived in sometime like in a house with no windows. reality is and is not in the same spacetime simply unreachable, untraceable, incomprehensible. someone speaks in a low voice, another speaks more with the eyebrows. the door opens to the dance of life, and who is riding the dance. brave minds and collapsed bodies, I didn't want to be here today, she says. one feels disgusted by the expulsion from eden. I am looking for the secret garden where the mind of the body grows, but I don't know it. I am looking for a theory of absence. this is a story about the impossibility of story.  we have to listen and forget so that life goes on
George Krokos Nov 2023
When mankind plays with
nature certain things go wrong
history does tell
__
A Senryu written late in 2021. Inspired by the Corona Virus and other catastrophic events of human history.
BLD Nov 2023
His name is ingrained into the fabric of our flag,
yes, the one you see there, waving in the December air,
with waves that glisten not from sun but from wind,
through the water turned frozen they fail to despair,
"My, oh, my, it's Washington Crossing the Delaware!"

Yet an intrinsic sense of nationalistic pride
exudes from the ink that tattoos this canvas,
the genesis of a nation they had taken for their own;
though, as truth becomes told, our pride seems to fold,
and the ink in the portrait begins to fade in color.

Still, on he trekked, though frigid and cold,
as hills bleached in snow began to unfold
potential Hessian retreats scattered across the beach,
a visualization of a battle bounding to unfold,
a strategist adept in war, in honor he was cloaked,

too determined to fail now.
But here we sit, in contemplation and wonder,
pondering the juxtaposition of privilege and patriotism --
how deceitful corruption now riddles those in charge,
empty promises as true as the navy blue

of the oils that stain this worn, cherished canvas.
Its memory lives on in the minds of many made here:
those of us who bleed the good ol' red, white, and blue,
and those of us who hide from the ones who tattoo
their whispered words into the portrait of our being.

Our quilted nation is laced with crimson,
a tapestry of history hidden from the young;
woven threads of variability outline the margins,
a picturesque vision of what could be; a voice speaks,
"Perhaps our future is just across the Delaware!"
Francis Nov 2023
Reminiscent on eras?
Or errors?
Reminiscent on the past,
Always eyeing the past,
The future,
What could have been,
What could possibly be,
But never a glance at the now.

“The now,”
As she always preached.
“Be in the now,”
She’d whisper,
As I angst over then and later.

I now look back on her,
Back on them all, really,
All of the eras in which they are placed,
All of the errors of that were committed,
And see it all, them all, as clear as crystal.

So many jewels of then,
So many… “hers” to treasure,
Yet here I am, in “the now,”
Wishing for nobody to fill that vacancy,
Nobody to hold that candidacy,
Because how can you love again,
When you haven’t truly loved before?

Nostalgic of an error, lost in eras,
That got whisked away, in the wind of life,
Dreaming of… “what will be,”
Reflecting on… “what could have been,”
Failing to… embrace the freedom,
To laugh, for a change,
After so long of being their court jester.

By my lonesome,
I worry not remotely,
It’s my sole duty, to be of duty,
To myself and myself,
Alone.
They all had special meaning. The times were special too.
Jeremy Betts May 2022
(song)

I'm only human
I am not perfect...
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it...
Yeah, I'm only human
I'm only human

Sometimes I don't wanna carry on with this life another day, but that ain't the thing to say, at least not out loud anyway
My carry on is baggage and part of me but can't stay? I need it to remind myself what had hurt me along the way
It's completely intertwined with my destiny, seemingly by design, forged by my raw history gone astray
So not by the fire burning within per say but rather by a flame that got carried away, lighting up my dismay
Not a phoenix, no rising from the ashes, I just claimed them as my own then created a home
A collection of stone after stone thrown in my direction become the cornerstone of the foundation I raised all alone
Harvest my own backbone to support the load, structural integrity is homegrown
Get blown down, just rebuild, try to hone my skill to out will what I've sown

I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
I don't know what you expect of me
Yeah, I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
Understand all I can be is just me

**** and moan, scream and cry to an empty auditorium, my lithium battery drained and I don't know where to go get some from
All thumbs and numb, fumbled the mission, what's done is done, can't be undone, self reflection is no fun so I play dumb
When reality hit it stung, my demon won, a surprise to no one, all attempts to enter the ring ended with me caught up in the top wrung
Can't predict the future but I see the inevitable outcome, only one lonely track on this self titled album
Said track is a sad song, repeat stuck in the on position and so loud I didn't get off stage at the sound of the gong
Not only did I play the biggest part of my downfall but tragedy overshadowed comedy in this parity type sitcom
I can pin point precisely when and where it all went wrong but can't explain why I kept on this particular path for so long
Prayed for help then buried my head in the sand before it came along, popped up only to find it already gone

I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
I don't know what you expect of me
Yeah, I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
What you see is the only me I can be
I'm only human, yeah, I'm only human
I'm only human, yeah, I don't feel human
...what am I doin'?

I slip and trip more often than not, trapped in the web of a side plot, main story got lost in the shuffle, it happens a lot
Forgot to implement basic self maintenance leading to rot spreading to every thought
So I question the thought that I ought not lower my defenses, got caught in the in between, can't connect, lost a dot
Struggled with the day to day, fought just to get to a level playing field, all for naught
Yes, it was me, I did it, I hit the self destruction button too quick but it didn't say elimination, it was simply labeled quit
No mention of a death certificate or that it would make the feelings of my inadequate existence permanent
I couldn't keep my whits about me, lost sight of what was important, my insecurities the culprit
Don't think for one moment though that attention is why I did it, it most certainly isn't

I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
I don't know what you expect of me
Yeah, I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
What it is you see in me

Responsibly taken, still forsaken, got front row seats to my damnation but it's a rerun that I'm tired of watchin'
Internalized everything behind blue eyes, an examination taken place with no follow up explanation given, why are the results always hidden but lurkin' right outside my field of vision
The implosion of my life left a broken man child chokin' on the pieces left and your sinister laugh proves you think I'm jokin' or just enjoyin' what you're seein'
The implication bein' that there's no salvation, no savin', tried on the shoe and continue to wear it, it fits to perfection
Pretend not to listen so you can't be guilted into any type of action at all, and so you're not looked at as responsible
And that's reasonable, you let out a little nervous laugh and giggle cause it makes you feel uncomfortable
And that's just a small taste compared to my mouth full, out of mind, out of sight not possible
The blowback was powerful, not mindful of everything I don't know, what I do know now is I was never in full control

I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
I don't know what you expect of me
Yeah, I'm only human
I am not perfect
I don't know what you want from me
No, I may not be stupid
I may just not get it
This isn't the me I want to be
I'm only human, yeah, I'm only human
I'm only human, yeah, I don't feel human
...define being human?

©2022
Louise Nov 2023
From your Roman Empire,
to my Ancient Egypt...
from your eyes and their cool fire,
to the curses falling down my lips

Up from your northern skies,
out of my vast desert's hottest sand
In from your colosseum's light,
down to my catacombs' earth and land

Their cowardly call for battles and war
is our romance's answer to serenity
They only dare to fight us from afar,
my name haunts them for all eternity

Let them come if they wish and dare
As we inspire the world's greatest love stories
I'll let my kingdom come, all rich and bare
But they will never go down in history
A poem I wrote to commemorate my Cleopatra halloween costume this year and its memories 🎃
Jeremy Betts May 2022
What would actually happen if I silenced the negativity and overcame my crippling anxiety?
Afraid I'll find that it's genetically built into my DNA or could only be removed surgically, it could get messy
It would be a ****** end cause it's not like I do the professionally, I live recklessly
Every day I wake up angry and progressively get to the point where it's to heavy to advance any, it's shackled me
You think I chose this way of life to be what defines me? Hell no, it came about organically, in spite of me
Now it's just a part of my anatomy staking claim to the entire piece of property
I look in the mirror and notice my biggest fear, I don't see me in the reflection aggressively starring back at me
The face I see is dramatically distorted photography of who I use to be mixed with something far more ugly
A sloppy photo copy, I barely recognize this beastly imagery, it could be that maybe I'm just not seeing clearly
Clear my thoughts and rinse my eyes quickly then open again but this time slowly
Seriously?! Still no shred of beauty and its worse if I look inwardly which I refuse do cause I'm far to cowardly
It's scary like a fairy tale before its picked up by Disney, originally a horror story that's been pasted down generationaly
I try saying I'm sorry to myself but the words don't come easy, at times all together escaping me
Then a thought hit me squarely knocking me down a peg or three
Who am I without this dark energy? Could I pick myself out of a crowd if the hurt and pain left permanently?
Would I, could I recognize me through the tricky shrubbery surrounding me completely
It's literally a fixture rooted in my history, it's overtaken not just my psyche but is now plain to see physically
Could I realistically live with hope and decency if they took up long term residency?
What would I do with happy if it moved onto my private property and claimed the territory?
Would I properly embrace the new me or hate the empty inside, the vacancy neon flickering annoyingly
I shouldn't be use to sorrow being at max capacity, I wanted change so badly but it's slippery
What would I do with the time I once spent waiting for the next tragedy to come and challenge my grip on reality
Every catastrophe seamlessly falls into place naturally like it was meant to be, designed specifically for me
I used to use comedy to hide the tragedy, at the time it seemed like a decent strategy
Let it live in my head rent free, the tenant had a tendency to use my thoughts against me while ignoring every desperate plea
I don't want to live in my history, not even temporarily but my mind doesn't work correctly, doesn't give a **** about me personally
Turned over the key to a better me then was torn apart strategically with a savagery not seen in this century
Eventually it caught up and changed my trajectory, placed on a one way street not labeled properly
So I may not come back on the scene, may not have that kind of longevity, I guess I'll have to wait and see
But I'm obviously past the point of no return, the objects in my rearview are closer than they appear to be
And the windshield is to ***** to see the road directly in front of me complicating my journey
I can't guarantee I won't crash and burn on reentry but I will say there definitely...probably...most likely won't be a search party
Is it Stockholm or gluttony, like it or not the recipe for what not to do will be my legacy
The distinction is tricky when I hold no empathy for myself so I throw up my hands hopelessly, never in victory
This isn't the way it was supposed to be but I never had a say in my destiny, I didn't even know that was a possibility
Honestly, if I had any dignity it would significantly alter my whole reason to be
But my will has been ripped from me brutally, I don't want to go on but I would like to stay, a twisted duality
An unnatural complexity, hypocrisy just another personality disorder, a horder of the impossibility unlucky
Adding to the pile that's already a burden to my humanity, no happily ever after, this is reality
Animosity aimed directly at my entirety, to tired to be wrestling with the same old ****, pushing 40
If I don't have this figured out by now what's the likelihood I'll learn new tricks? There isn't any
That should be all I need but ultimately I know it won't be cause I'm the embodiment of misery
To change that would mean I'd be a stranger in my own body, an anomaly
And that frightens me to my very core so here I sit in purgatory for all eternity
Hold your pity, I'm okay with it cause no matter how gory it's gonna get, at least it's a bit of familiar territory
Comfort found within the familiarity I have with the words in the retelling of a not so family friendly ghost story

©2022
irinia Sep 2023
he survives his story kept in boxes and knives
the dread of forgotten runes keeps him company
mother repression father night
emptiness surrounded by invisible walls
death a continent for the living

I am facing this vortex of muted music
with empty hands, despair and white hair
no solace for the unshed tears
everyday he tells me something
about nothing
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