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Datore Fargo Aug 2022
I sit,
in a field,
of daffodils,
while you,
make wishes,
on dandelions.
Like blowing bubbles,
your dreams,
float away,
some like,
seeds,
they land,
growing roots,
to hold onto.
Datore Fargo Aug 2022
A bright,
ray of,
sunshine.
Here to,
burn your,
face.
I leave,
your skin,
red,
and shoulders,
scabbed.
Even through,
clouds,
I penetrate,
your clothes.
Temperatures high,
celsius soaring,
you peel,
me off,
weeks later.
But I’m,
right around,
the corner.
A delightful,
ray of,
sunshine,
here to,
burn your,
*******,
face.
Strangerous Aug 2022
That I can blame ice for freezing my fire,
night for eclipsing my day,
wind for eroding my mountain,
or worms for eating my leaves,
I don’t suppose.

That I’m frozen, dark, flat, and barren,
I won’t deny.

That I can hope for a sudden spark,
a ray of dawn,
an eruption,
or a sprout
is all I ask.
© 1989 by Jack Morris

Hear the song on SoundCloud:
soundcloud.com/therealjackstrange/i-can-only-hope
Datore Fargo Aug 2022
I spit,
my tongue,
right out,
on the,
cold tile floor,
I couldn’t taste it.
You stared at me,
and it,
me,
it,
horrified,
practically disgusted.
“I thought,
that was gum,”
you said,
bewildered,
basically,
out of breath.
I would have,
answered,
but shrugged,
instead.
Datore Fargo Aug 2022
Hi,
nice to,
meet you.
I’m the,
disappointment,
your mother,
told you,
not,
to take,
in bed.
Instead,
you took,
a leapt,
and asked,
my hand,
to wed.
Do I,
say yes?
Or maybe,
*****,
on your,
clothes.
My favorite,
flowers,
are daffodils,
and daisies,
but they’re wilted,
and have lost,
their charm.
That should’ve,
been me,
instead.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
I.
Old flame; a spark of love,
Conflagration—a great deal for a crush,
A touch, a rush; all too much,
Tear filled eyes, after ashes rise from the dust.

Throttle neck, coughing like an exhaust,
Love to be a ride from coast to coast,
But we only spoke love just to boast,
We often did more than the most.

II.
Smoke from the chimney box,
Your eyes burning red—a fiery fox,
A scent in the springs of kisses phlox,
Our charred hearts swallowed the crops.

The land is grey in a colour of soot,
Something pretty is afoot underfoot,
For après—tragedy has a beauty take root,
Something grows ahead futures; by it's caput.

III.
A rose from the ashes—reminds me wisely,
That we gain a superior from former chaos,
Braved to awaken eyes; searching love blindly.
You've found that love, that one!--the one
Making two, to be loved and love!--that's four
For you're in love now, after another love.

                                                   Tears of ashes no more...
nick armbrister Jun 2022
Sky Wheel
Big sky wheel from heaven rolls over the land squashing houses and people and cities and families.
Sky wheel doing its business, from who knows where.
A trail of loose house bricks that once were human dwellings.
Now rubble.
Where are the people?
Under the boot of the sun wheel, totally ******.
Who sent this kilometre diameter circular thing to Planet Earth?
Wrecking everything by squashing it till its dusty particles blown by the wind.
No more life here or anywhere.
Just a squash head sky wheel going round the block, again.
Coloured like a sea shell, multi spectral haze of eye watering iridium from outer space. On Earth doing mad damage, your home and mine totally bolloxed.
Military jets buzz the wheel and bomb it, chipping the surface but not halting it.
Each jet hit by smaller wheels spewed from Mother wheel.
Dead.
Dwelling squashing continues, unabated.
A culling of certain humans, facts only known now.
Men killed, women left in peace.
One lab.
She kicks the wheel over.
Rantings of a Damaged Mind
By Nick Armbrister and Mel Grobler
Datore Fargo Jun 2022
Walking on walls,
dancing on the ceiling,
the room is spinning,
I’m going through,
the motions.
Playlist on shuffle,
but I don’t like this song,
or this one,
this one,
and that one too.
My tongue is twisted,
and my throat is choking,
I’m going through the motions,
I don’t wanna,
go through the motions.
I’m getting sick,
it just won’t stick,
I forgot the words,
someone hit reverse,
I don’t wanna,
go through the motions.
My mind is slipping,
my feet,
tripping,
I forgot how to,
go through the motions.
I overcompensate,
say things I shouldn’t say,
I shoot,
he scores,
I’m tired of going,
through the motions.
I jump head first,
hold my breath,
this is my chance,
I’m not going,
through the motions.
Datore Fargo Jun 2022
Fly
Up and down,
like a red rubber,
ball.
Yes,
you stick,
like a fly,
on the wall.
You buzz,
my ears,
and land,
on my nose.
I swat,
I zap,
but your,
persistence,
pays off.
louella May 2022
i’m more human than you are
more human than your wickedly
accentuated cheekbones
the hair that falls in clumps above
your eyebrows
has more life in each strand
than you have in your entire body
your charcoal colored locks
that get lightened in the sunshine
gather more oxygen
than your own lungs can inhale

i’m more human than you are
when i laugh, i can’t breathe
when i’m anxious, i feel inches away
from death
it lingers in the pockets of the heat
it traps inside my airways
yet, i can breathe finer air than you

even though the haze upon the horizon
blocks traffic, makes people stop for a second
it is more alive than you’ll ever be
it winds and dips and turns
flowing through the atmosphere
creeping down the downtown streets
yet, it’s more awake than your resting body

and i understand this might be
a touchy
subject for you
but you need to let the air stay in your lungs
for more than a millisecond
let it sizzle inside your skin
feel your vessels and veins shrink and grow
let the blood flow reach your panicked head
let it expand inside your brain
and feel the cells chatter and goop
like water

you’re more human than you think
yourself to be
more raw and real and vigorous
you have a soul buried in your eyes
unlike the caterpillars chewing on
plants who only do it to keep their
species thriving
you’re a human who can extend their limbs
to reach the furthest lengths
your heart can think to be
bursting with life

i’m still more human than you are
this pen i was locked in
stuffed my self esteem
but i’m still breathing, aren’t i?
i can chase the wonky walking warbler
i can lie
between blades of grass
letting the earth sink into the linings
of my skin
even though an itch might bust through
i still find a way to absorb the
outside weather
the humidity and the direction the
wind is blowing, or choosing to travel

you’re more human than you think
can retreat from out of you
breathe, and maybe the cricket chirps
will make you resort back to
rolling down hilltops or
jumping off rugged cliffs
next time when you jump
internalize it
and maybe next time
imagine you’re a sparrow for a second
tasting the air, as the water embraces you
and calls your name
so,

                          answer back
i feel the imagery through this one. quick note: just be alive, don’t waste your time just surviving, why not thrive?

5/27/22
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