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My Dear Poet Aug 2021
”Are you in?”
said the revolutionist

“Or are you out?”
said the gambler

“What are you on?”
said the pusher

“What are you about?”
said the philosopher

“What are you of?”
said the professor

”Where are you at?”
said the explorer

“Do you feel?”
said the poet
noura Aug 2021
That unforgiving metal.
Within that unforgiving metal lies all the things you cannot forgive about yourself.
Those freckles on your chin that you wish would expand into a constellation so that you may give them names and so that you may give them meaning,
within that unforgiving metal.

The Greeks threw their hands towards the heavens
and deemed cosmic accidents worthy of the names of gods,
although within them lie no gifts.
Like a bedazzled and jaded Tiresias impostor one stumbles upon
on their way home,
who sees nothing but the tangible
and tells all but the truth.
Still, he is clad in diamonds and gold
and thus has value in trade.
Beauty triumphs over mendacity
and mendacity over reality.

But the freckles that mar your skin,
that you cannot transfigure into the most meaningless of stars or the crudest of answers,
sit there defiantly,
waiting to be acknowledged and waiting to be named.

You lean your forehead forward to rest against the cool smoothness of its idle twin.
You could swear you saw her sneer at you.
The freckles do not budge—they will consume you whole.
Billie Marie Aug 2021
i saw dark gods walking the earth
tall strong broken women and men
with hearts connected and on fire
i saw children playing in peace
and growing in love
i smelled health and abundance
in the winds of change

what should we do when
doing is outdated?
we shall lie upon a mountain
and call out to the heavens
and drink nectar from only
the juiciest of fruits and
realize our Truth and sameness

we made music so we could remember
our true selves we wrote
poems and moved our bodies
to rhythms no one ever knew
i saw our lands overflowing with
the milk we extracted and
pasteurized and bottled
and delivered but never drank
being intolerant of the lacking
flavor in dry white toast

we are the very lands we
couldn’t bury our ancestors in
we couldn’t let anyone
take the seeds they’d sewn
the ancient ones
the ones who planted the seeds
for us seeds that overpopulated
an unsuspecting nation
on the brink of collapse
We are the ones we have been searching for.
Ray Dunn Aug 2021
will pursue meaning of life
fear of someday that will end
lose that human element
Unpolished Ink Jul 2021
Bottled words boiled down
Haiku pan bubbles over
Leaving the meaning
Maura Jul 2021
Penny wishes
Sink to the bottom of clear water thought blue--
Stealing credit from teal paint

Maybe I am unmotivated
Maybe I take too much time
But from whom?
It is mine

Achieve great things
What does it mean?
Make the money that tears us apart
Make a drug to keep beating a sorry, broken heart

Play important
Play smart
Teach with your bimillenially biased brain the meaning of ancient art
Exercise your mind in a hamster wheel of antique thought  

Wandering through obstacle courses we built ourselves
We build higher and higher until one day we look down
See the rounding of the earth
And crawl back to the ground
Jaicob Jul 2021
Life is a miracle
Life is sweet.
Keep it long.
Keep it neat.

Life is magic,
So I write this report.
Life is special.
Please don't cut it short.
Aaron Combs Jun 2021
In the summer night, below the sunshine,
I met you darling, here, and all of your friends.

And like you're golden earring, you became my energy
the whisper to my night, the sparkle in the ocean deep.
And when we waited for the morning song of the sunlight,
from this time on, you became a part of Romania to me.

For below the skylit ocean, in Varme Vece
between the purple, red, and blue stars, and you.
In all the colors of the blue, I want you to
Remember America golden skies when I leave.

So in the "Glo"of the clubs, or light and fame
of another day when you lead in therapy,
and when you restore the might of the weak,
Or between the wine and dine, and good games,

in the same way, my dear, you know you can find meaning
From these summer nights or darker days -
from a broken heart, you also can be mended - you do know.  

So when you struggle and trying to find the words to say,
When you yourself feel lower than the ocean sand,
you can trace these memories, and search for my hands,
and fall in line and feel warm and safe in these summer days.
here
Brett Jun 2021
Down by the river I lie alone. Folks wade on the banks,
Sifting for gold. Washing the aches from their brittle bones.
This land of the forgotten, has never felt so close to home.
Detached from the blood-oiled machine,
Not much to part with, but
Every footstep carries with it
An imprint of meaning. The current here
Flows away from greed. Deposits into a reservoir,
Of pure intentions and peace. Tucked away from the cracked city streets
That mirror the crying streaks of those bewitched by the banal belief
Of progress by any means. Power here,
Is a drink for the weak. The outstretched arms of willow trees,
Cradle this quaint town. The last bastion of human passion. Bereft of malevolence.
Indeed, the realms of Hell seem to have a slice of heaven left.
Tucked away by a river there is a place of peace.
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