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Dream Fisher Mar 2019
I don't understand the want
For an absent parent's pride
I'd rather plot and plan with the one whose been at my side.
You can't be proud of trees you didn't grow
While you were off sowing oats
I was sowing stories as a way to cope
"Ryan, understand it's a mutual hate"
I've rerun that line in my mind a couple times
Then realized even your explanations are fake.
In my court, you hold no water
you should do what you do best
And don't bother, I'm proud of me.

All the kids who use to mock me in school
Use the same lame names for every kid
Cheers to Matthew, they called me Harry Potter too
I guess we just stupified them with creativity
Only to see those people grow to be losers for their longevity
While we can turn this water to ***
They still sit stunned.
Give me my cape back, I'm not done.

They tell you not to conform
Then they fight you until you make your own lane
Im playing the same game you chose
But I'm button mashing Konami codes
Until I can make a march of fifty men
Let's hear the backlash of my actions then
All the sudden it's silence until they all cheer
While I'm doing my own, everyone is living in fear
Am I the only one really living here?
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
How I Observed the Day of Atonement

If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur

In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.

Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.

He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.

He returned this courtesy.

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.

Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.

Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.

He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting  beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,

Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
September  2013
Bhill Mar 2019
Did you take the time to really ask?
What is the reason?
Why did it get done that way?
Where did it disappear to?
How long will it take?
What color?
Why are you going?
Where was it hidden?
Who was there?
How is that even true?
***?
Why are you leaving?
Where will you go?
Who knows?
How did we get here?
What, Why, Where, Who, How?
Ask, Ask, Ask and figure it out!!!

Brian Hill - 2019#54
Inspired by the ?
I have found that you can get as far and receive a whole lot of info by just asking...
Ashlyn Yoshida Feb 2019
What is the point of talking when no one's there to listen
What is the point of trying if I'm only out to fail, not glisten
Why do people act so happy when darkness hits their home
Why am I still standing here all the **** alone?

Where is all the people going
Where do I even begin the heart stitches of sewing
Who are the people that live inside my head
Who are the others that follow light instead?

When do I get my chance
When is it my time to finally dance
How am I to act brand new
How is it that after so many years, I've finally met you
the first time she told him she loved him he asked

     how

she looked him in the eyes and said

     how could i not

-part 1
Emma Pals Feb 2019
I remember that phone call.
Being frozen in my room.
Heard the words,
Felt the pain,
the emotions flooded in.

"He's dead," they said.

My heart sank to my knees.
Every piece of me hurt.
Why him?
Why now?
Why?

I was on thin ice.
Barely walking with out crashing down.
That morning I sat in a church pew,
Praying that this week be the best week every.

That night,
He died.

They don't know why,
They don't know how.
But here I am crying,
Lost without you in this world.

Now it's been a year,
My wounds have since healed.
Maybe they just have gone numb,
I can't seem to feel anything.

Numbness to the world,
I felt to much, now I can't.
No way to feel relief,
If my heart won't let me breathe.

Empty emotions,
But heavy heart.
Makes for a deadly combination,
That has no good result
Today makes one year since he died, February 25th, RIP
Bhill Feb 2019
How far, is my head from the ground?

Does the thought seem to make me look down?
It's not a subject, that comes up every day.
But how far, is my head from the ground?

It seems quite important right now.
Do I measure from my nose or the top of my crown?
How far, is my head from the ground?

I'm falling and falling and falling right now.
How far will I go till I stop?
I think the answer depends, on the answer to the question...

How far, is my head from the ground?

Brian Hill - 2019
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