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Danté Le Beau Nov 2020
Desert dry-
Cracked and scarred,
Empty of feeling and life.
With nothing there to grow,
Life daren’t wander inside.

It is the rain,
That begins the roots for life,
It is the rain-
That washes off the scarring-
To show its lack of permanence.
When it pours from the heavens,
We know our world is pure.

So why not his heart?
Danté Le Beau Nov 2020
Darkness isn't to be feared,
It exists as the beginning,
As a reminder of all the potential,
Before you have done anything,
Before you open your eyes,
Before you take the first step,
The darkness is always there,
So get comfortable with it,
Because when you strike that first match,
When you flick that switch,
It is gone forever,
And all that is left,
Is the stark truth of reality.
Norman Crane Oct 2020
That feeling—
Night running between tree trunks,
Bark scraping your cheeks—
Before smashing face-first into:
   Neck snapped,
      The blood leaks,
That feeling is freedom—
Before you awake unfeeling your body,
Legs useless, mouth drooling dumb,
Welcome! You're one of us now,
The obedient numb.
I can! replaced by May I?
Physical stagnation, ornamental degradation
of the soul: the will dies always
Norman Crane Sep 2020
an idea blows
across a global garden
cities shake like leaves
Maria Mitea Sep 2020
felt superior  to the very nature of all things, and he found a way how to prove it.

“Why staying bound
by humanness,
while I am better
than anyone else”

With his own money,
Hannon bought a flock of birds
and raised them up in a dark place,
very dark place,
teaching them how to sing one song
named “ Hannon is God”,
This is all they’ll sing in the dark.

When Hannon considered
the birds learned the song,
he let them fly free,
believing his own song
“Hannon is God”
would spread everywhere
and would be heard by everyone.

He let them free,
the next moment
the free birds forgot Hannon’s song.

They flew free,
and song their own birdsong
to this day
Maria Mitea Sep 2020
Eyes lost
in waiting,
looking in vain,
Despite it,
He kept them
widely opened,
He put it away
on the old
wood table.

his courage
lifting up
ferrous arms
a tinny piece,
rolling himself
in still noise
a cigarette of
a variety of
great purge
good reason,
one pack a day

It helped survive
the cold,
and everyday
toil when
soldiers and ants
of freedom.

looking in vain,
Despite it,
He kept them
widely opened,
Norman Crane Sep 2020
Mister Maxwell reads the paper
Of the party that he pays for
And with subtle nods agrees
With each printed word he reads
He knows all the phrases to say
About the topics of the day
And he's politically engaged
(Marching in manifestations)
And appropriately enraged
(By violence and discrimination)
To be a hero of society:
A once-born self that's ceased to be,
A real symptom of democracy!
A truly enlightened zombie!
Words' Worth Jul 2020
We are naked when born
Choosing our place among forlorn ancestors
After death, a structured life denotes our span
Our modern thinking will not save the hunger pangs
For the meals are crisp, delightful as religious rites are

Born are we to serve our fathers
Who give everything to their fathers
Living a life of servitude
Never striding next to kings
What of the princes knowing no solicitude

We are only mere classmates
In a college of wisdom
Wizened by the plight of our teachers
To lead a nation or cure cancer
We are naked to ourselves, as we are simply accident-prone

If we linger on in this blue planet
Life most come to a tragic end
Where the followers of the chapel proceedings
Get the most out of this age-old tradition
Often divorcing logic from religion
I beckon to the thinkers, who I know, to understand rather than relish.
Danté Le Beau Mar 2020
When a creator’s ability meets an end,
And their fabled angelic muse is no longer a friend,
They look high and low,
Scouring through grass and dirt and sometimes even snow,
To bring back that gift
That left their life with an unimaginable rift.
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