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There flew the **** bomber low over a town
The front gunner shot at people he spotted
Short random bursts zipping out mostly missing
Bullets bouncing off roads houses walls
Some thudding into people quite lethally
Nobody shoots back this raider has surprise
And speed with daring to keep him safe
Plus eight guns to shoot if intercepted
The English fighters are always hungry
To nail a *** especially one aggressive like this
The Dornier zooms here and there gunning away
Having already dropped his bombs on target
A mid-sized engineering factory making items
For the war effort which killed German troops
It was now time to expend some bullets
Do some more killing on English targets
A grandmother was a target as was a postman
The Dornier curved round and headed for home
His ammo half expanded he continued
Roaring over rooftops a hundred feet up
His nose gun and other guns spit forth death
This was only one **** plane what of a hundred?
Nat Lipstadt Feb 24
The Level of Uncertainty, This Yellow Star

“Even though I’m OK right now,
there’s a sense it could all go
away in a second.”  

<>
foreboding,
a disease well known to me,
not “as if,” but in fact
been Cain-marked at
birth to be wary, be watchful,
ever alert, never inert in the
realm of possibilities,
the king
in my universe’s galaxy is the
randomness of existence,

microsecond, milligram minuscule,
muscular instability that even if
unspoke,

danger!
it’s bespoke nature, customized
just for me, lurks, prepared to ****
me into a hard fall, loss of balance

yes,
I prepare with subtleties, minute
measures, discrete and indiscreet,
measured steps, slow-wide turns,
“hands on the railing down the stairs we go”
motto~attitudinal, antithesis~carefree,
for this birthmark was forehead installed
from birth, as a reminder that
reckless abandon
is a countervailing force,
and there are whales in the ocean
and whole coteries of fish in the sea,
waiting, wanting to swallow me whole,

lions across the ocean faraway continents
eager for a nibble of my tender heart,
round ****, and
thousands of people
who hate me and my kind, for no reason,
other than my birth mark,
this foreheaded
yellow star,
notifying all eyes, that I am to be dreaded,
feared, for reasons no matter,
just but unjustly

because, I am a Jew

who prays thrice
times daily for peace
for the whole world.

Sat Feb 10
8:35am
Carlo C Gomez Sep 2022
Soft shoulders

shoreless summer

out of the sinking

and onto the floatation

hunting for mermaid

while taking islands

along the river's mutiny

blue coda dreamwater

but fire in the organism

the hour is thin

the ice is even thinner
BlackWhite Nov 2021
]
]
]
]

                              One crossed your mind,
                                Is thinking of you too?

                                           Is it True?
[
[
[
[
Probably people are connected spiritually, Just a though!
I put you on a pedestal
and now you want to stay on top
of my kindness, patience, affection
Obsessed, you can't stop

I'm out of the picture
and it is a lonely view
Trading efforts for nothing
because nothing is what you do
His4Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people
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