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Andy Chunn Nov 26
Christmas is the time of year
We celebrate with family near
The holy message from above
The glory of God’s perfect love

We see the woods and snowy fields
Thankful for their summer yields
That keeps us through the winter frost
Running on faith that’s never lost

See the bright lights and hear the bells
Warming fires and stories to tell
Sugar cookies and Christmas pies
And wonder in the children’s eyes

And as we sing, and run and play
We come together all to pray
And celebrate Father and Son
Christmas is the victory won
(1st Corinthians 15:57 - KJV)

“But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Anais Vionet Nov 20
Last night, Lisa, Peter, Leeza and I were in her father’s 50th floor study watching New York City. It’s a corner room with glass walls from floor to ceiling. He likes to watch the city himself and has a small, 5 seat sectional couch facing the view.

The left wall window looks across Hell’s Kitchen to exactly where Sully Sullenberger crash landed flight 1549 in the Hudson river (it was 3:31 pm and no one was home). The right window overlooks Central Park and Upper Manhattan. Lincoln Center, almost dead center of the corner, looks like part of a toy train-set.

The view is a wheeling, ever changing and mesmerizing panorama. Well lit ships, barges and boats move glacially against the ink black Hudson. Jets in expressway-like holding patterns (Newark Liberty, and Teterboro airports left window - LaGuardia, right window) blink, like waving angels, helicopters buzz below like insects and the traffic, far, far below, forms a living chain of red and white lights which can erupt with nugatory hues of police blue at any moment.

While we watch, we’re playing a game of “Would you rather.” It’s a game of situational trade-offs, like “Would you rather listen to the same 10 songs forever or have to watch the same 5 movies forever? Of course, most people say the movies - because they last longer and there would be fewer repeats.

We take turns asking these critical questions - pausing, occasionally, to point out things below.  
“Would you rather be in a crowded elevator with a bunch of noisy high school students or pinned in with a bunch of judgemental, middle aged men? The girls chose the students, even though high schoolers can be mean. Peter chose to be with the men.
“Would you rather find your true love or a suitcase with 5 million dollars?” We all chose love.
“Would you rather hike or camp?” Both were unpopular if they involved going to the bathroom outside - which creeps the girls out.
“Would you rather give up your computers or your pets (forever)?” THAT was a stressful one.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Nugatory: “of little or no consequence”

My movies: Clueless, Rushmore, Moonstruck, Shakespeare in love, Dr. Zhivago
neth jones Nov 9
the city's moon                                            
       fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour
                    crass and mentally fractured
traction acts
the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction          
                                          ­        padding our ego psychology
nothing    simple    allowed
we are all a manic reference of each other

the city weather is steered                              
       by currents of gossip
withhold your info
               culture clutches
misguiding alliances
    treasure your details                                              
                      it is your only insurance

this city                                            
it's a view to thrill                                              
            ­ but it odors me til ill
****** privacy and get undressed
too much time here   harbouring thirst      
quibbling hurt feelings                          
         signals ;  Life Emitting Distress

so                                                    
lock up the night city stars                                 
                 mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me
                          staring about for vagrancy
i flip up my hood             
lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes   
search us out       merchandise and mood
i turn down an alleyway
and am confronted
                                          a vain and voyeuristic fan tail
varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment
ad lights send out sonar 'pings'
wing-ed ; fencing judgement
i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas
and my hood is lined with aluminium

     i cough and concentrate on breath
commemorate each step undertaken
weaponize my walk
eyes low
my being is voided into guise

heading further from the city centre
i can straighten from my defensive pose
in amongst the dwellings              
             the urban effect dwindles
kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights
delights;   the holy crop of them
webbing outward    retching past our boundaries          
              shored back upon natures breath                      
(so i imagine)
We understood each other better...
When you're just a ‘White Light’
and I was just a mere ‘Glass (Slab).’
But the moment you found that ‘Prism,’
you dispersed and showed 7 colors...
That left me confused, to figure out,
which one's true..!
topacio Aug 1
It is nightly,
I shift from person
to sleeping archaeologist,  
as I shut my eyes
and fall into you.

And it is nightly
I set out to
decode the great
hieroglyphics
of your sky,  
etched out by
extraterrestrials
or maybe the great
ancient spirits,
who try to
relay simple
answers to
heavy thoughts.

It is is evident to see,
after my nightly research,
that you are simply
the dancer's ribbon,  
and the beings
yet to be written,
the ghouls in the attic,
and the poet's poem,
the union of electricity
and circumstance
colliding to
put men in
their place.

And as I fall
deeper into
the excavation
of my slumber,
I hear your whispers
dancing through my sheets,
saying: yield to me
when we one day meet,
not like the lunatic soldier,
but like the silken lover
who is reliably there
upon your awake.
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 15
I see a rosy sunset-view,
Turning slowly to night, so blue.
Day-sounds turn into that of Night,
Sunlight replaced by neon-light.
In the air there is a summer-breeze,
Unlocking many memories.
Everywhere I look, I see smiles,
People dressed in different styles.
Beautiful faces on bright screens,
Displaying stars, products and scenes.
I stare into the mist of love,
To the glowing faces above.
I hear the echoes of crowds,
Passing by like some languid clowds.
I walk around within these places,
And encountering many faces.
Someone is sunken in their phone,
Smiling, while standing all alone.
I see the city's blood; racing cars,
Shooting off like glittering stars.
So many people meet and greet,
On every corner of this street.
There is no time to say hello,
While everyone is quick to go.
Would one of them have time for me?
And are their hearts open to see?
I guess not; let's keep them in my dreams,
Where they're adorned with silver-gleams.
It does not really matter much;
I can see the trace of their touch.
We look
upon the
the flowers,
thinking,
“I was once
you, before
my eyes
were known
to your
bloom”
the wind is
lifting the
petals
gently as
wanderers
of the sea,
the night
falls,
us and
them
are as
blinking
stars,
floating
almost
endlessly,
unaware
of the
lights
we give,
and yet,
unwavering.
am i ee Apr 18
I went outside
to visit
the moon
the other night.

And the lights
from across the street
were shining
into my eyes
all over again.

So I got mad
all over again
and went inside
and took up
my pen.

~ 17 April 2022
Never thought about it...too bright lights?  Light pollution? Your stinkin' bright lights trespassing, blinding people, killing the nocturnal creatures?  
Well, think about it! NOW!

www.darkskyfriends.org
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