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Fowsia Omar Aug 22
Stand still.
Now look at yourself from the outside.
What do you see?
Do you see a strong fearless women?
Or a corrupted one?
You decide what side you want see.
The good or the ****.
But keep in mind your actions reflect the real you.
So be a women of your word through your beautiful actions and honest speech.
That's what'll  leave you remarkable.
Jeremie Jul 13
I believe the highest expression of Love that can take place between two souls is one that allows the other to be completely human. An honoring and acceptance of each other’s mortality, fragile hearts, and perfect imperfections
When we can honor and accept our friends, family, partners for who they are right now and where they are right now we simultaneously do the same for ourselves.
Ken Pepiton Jul 3
Days from now we look back and find we left a clue to

now

this moment
you meet me now and

we agree
something shall change if we

agree

to see this all-self-ish-ness from your

God POV,
which you imagined as good as any you

imagined
as you aged from I to we.
After the call to Sgt. John Wikel July 2, 2019, fifty years after everything changed.
Don Bouchard Jun 13
This, the generation
Of the Trampling Bull,
The trodding of the Crop,
The headlong raging run,
With never any stop.

Having pulled the stakes,
Dragging tethers;
Pawing unchecked,
Throwing clods above his withers;

Fence posts falling,
The corners cave.

Town boys chase him
With sticks,
Unable to check or to drive
His rampant run,
O'er suffering fields.

Where are the men
Who'll come to force him,
Bellowing,
Back into civility?

Where are the men?
Make of it what you will. I woke at 2:00 with this vivid dream....
Crow Jun 6
what were the means by which
they came to wear a uniform
it is meaningless now

what was the color of their skin
in what manner did they speak
what was their music
what place was home

all that made them who they were
overshadowed now
by why they are gathered

wearing that uniform
standing in ranks
standing for their fellow
warrior beside them

giving to the final breath
for the most precious
gifts they themselves
had been given

family
whether family was
10,000 miles away
or next to them in a hole
in the dirt
so close each could feel
the others pounding heart

they are in ranks still

at Arlington
at Leavenworth
at Miramar
at Normandy
at Belleau
at Manila
at hundreds more
and unseen graves in
jungles and mountains
all around the world

ranks that will stand till
the earth itself changes
Written first for Memorial Day less than two weeks past. But I felt it appropriate for the 75th anniversary of D-Day as well.
jcl Mar 16
i am tired of fighting, i am too old, i’ve seen too much

i am throwing down my weapon, i surrender, **** me if you must have blood

i don’t care anymore, i don’t remember what i am fighting for, i just want to go home.

put this war behind me, live to love, not to ****, not to die, for what purpose, for what god.

who will commemorate our battles, and those who have died just yesterday

who will remember our names, aspiration, dreams once we are dead

we are disposable, born to ****, then die, who cares, why care, we served your purpose

we are the pawns, expected to die for the greater good that we can not have

look at your lives, was it worth it, how do you honor Them, those who died, so you can live
mjad May 12
I have spoken more words of hate and exclaimed more disgust,
than words fueled by respectful admiration and trust.
You think that I will open up to you the more you hover,
but my life is kept from you, completely undercover.
I hope one day I can speak all of my exciting truths
because you have been uninvited to share in my youth.
I do not need you, but to follow what every child should say,
Happy Mother's Day.
we do not have a good relationship
part two to my other poem "Mother"
To those who are gone.
We’ll carry your legacy.
To honor your life.
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2018
why I love certain men


it’s a raining and writing Saturday,
a washout for the beach visitors who chose their
calendar lottery tickets poorly

but hurrah and huzzah for the poet
in the no-sun-today-room with
steam collecting on his face from his 20 oz. Canadian mug,
the rest of him cozied neath a
wooly mohair knitted and tasseled blanket,
from a now naked and shivering alpaca goat in Turkey or Tibet

perhaps we’ll make a tiny dent
in the 1319 poems,
in the ‘sorta started to do’ list

****.
new one sneaks in demanding immediate satisfaction
and threatening my mind’s incarceration unless,
serviced and unleashed as the Frenchies say

Frites, immédiatement!: (french fries, now!)

I love most men; certain men more than others,
not because they are soft to the touch,
look great in thigh highs, can fix a backhoe,
lay hands on animals, just as they do upon their grandchildren,
or write better poetry than me,
because
they make me weep from zealous delight at
their capricious unprecedented constancy of their
honorable actions

they are soft to the core, which is itself
wrapped in a leather soldered steel,
which defines them by their self-questing constant,
asking themselves preface and postface,
doing it well, in between,

what is the honorable thing?

this honor idea of which writ previous
doesn’t dissolve - indeed grows crescendo stronger,
like the miracle of the Yom Kippurs rams horn
crying out to heavens at the concluding end  
on the holiest judgement day,
a shofar miracle for it inhumanly grows ever louder,
ceasing only when nightfall marks a new day begun,
reminding both sinners and saviour each,
to inquire of their colluding selves on this forgiveness-giving day,

what is the honorable thing?

some are borrowers and some lenders,
of anything, the substance or the whom matters not,
but the bonding bonfire from which the deal is done,
is of a uncharted chemical organic chemical matter unrecognized
but millennium ancient


here I stop

the call to breakfast must be obeyed,
for it’s with lovely made, menu man-poet requested,
this is too an honorable thing to do,
and the 1319 half blood~half writs poking my eyes,
can be faced with new courage afterwards
on a perfect raining and writing Summer Saturday
for the next one hopefully and woefully

may not come till the September (Rosh Hashanah/Jewish New Year) when acorns fall

certain men will greet that fall Sabbath/ New Years Day,  
when Atonement begins, a ten day process to the final conclusion,
by asking of everything living and of every act human performed,
for the forgiveness requested inherent in the absolute bar setting of

what is the honorable thing?

which by the by,

is why I love certain women too...

and all who are honorable
will read this honorific and remain
clueless as to whom it is addressed...

oh god, I do so love that best!

what could signal honor even more...
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