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Mark Toney Aug 2020

Trying to relax
on my high-rise roof
I notice you across the street on
your balcony seemingly aloof
listening to vintage Carly Simon
          "... you say we can keep our love alive"

You stare my way and enthusiastically waive
          "Babe all I know is what I see"

I hesitate, smile and then return the gesture
          "The couples cling and claw"

As if on cue you stand and press against the railing
         "and drown in love's debris"

Still smiling as my heart beats faster
          "... we'll soar like two birds through the clouds"

"What's your name?" you playfully cry out
          "But soon you'll cage me on your shelf"

"Who wants to know?" is my surprising reply
          "I'll never learn to be just me first by myself"

Suddenly flashbacks hijack my thinking
          "... it's time we moved in together
          and raised a family of our own, you and me"
Why is this happening?  Why am I sinking?
          "... that's the way I've always heard it should be
          you want to marry me, we’ll marry"

I hear your beseeching, unintelligible shouts as I retreat
Painful memories open like an oubliette under my feet—
            ­                 n

Lost and languishing in isolation's labyrinth

© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
8/8/2020 - Poetry form: Narrative - Italicized lyrics from the song “That’s the Way I’ve Always heard It Should Be” (1971) written by Carly Simon and Jacob Brackman - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
mitch Jul 2020
All at once, the breeze cools my skin.
the air is sweet.
All at once, my heart is here, the line is thin and at my feet.
All at once, the rose is me
And I the rose.
All at once, this garden is old,
yet fresh to see.
All at once, no desires, just what is.
All at once the clouds the sea
The rain in this rose
The pollinating bee.
The sun that shines
Is free to see
Not just in the sky
but in the leaves
The earth that feeds
Every ounce of me.
All at once, all that can be
Not just outside,
Inside too
All at once and all that is
Is right here
Right now
All at once.
Colin Mulligan Jun 2020
In order to live gently
without causing harm
be like a snowflake, only softer.

Be mindful of the grass you walk upon
and the sky you look up into -
it is the backbone of the earth,
the softest skin between her thighs.
Marina Feb 2020
You were created in this world
you ruptured yourself into the world
and caught on fire as you grew older
that crafted you into what you are
and what you will become.
Natasha Bailey Aug 2019

When the seas, all seven, align and combine,
To form one tide, do you believe we have a selection, to
Reside, hide and remain alive?
Or is that our mind tryna confide,
In our own made lie, afraid to die?
If the angels rein down a path to heaven,
I wish to accept, find, listen and abide,
Until I arrive.
Once I’ve arrived at my final destination,
Only then will I quit the investigation,
Quit the pacing,
Where thoughts are constantly racing.
End of days where I communicate,
Debate and question every nation.
An owl of silent observation,
Mixed with a perfection I can imagination,
To relate,
To create,
And modulate,
An exhilarating answer to the allegation,
Fact or fiction,
Which is resurrection?
Such unbelievers, who claim afterlife is an illusion,
Unaware that they are too, just bait,
Heading straight,
Into the great,
Hands of fate.
The weight of the truth,
And proof,
In representation of resurrection,
Cannot be ignored, just like an antique china plate,
Or a mate,
Who’s at times, difficult to tolerate.
It’s inevitable,
So renumerate,
Your pure self, and reinstate,
To the Golden Slate Gate.
Enter your new estate,
Where you are enchanted with the power of illumination.
Before you can await,
The glorious one who turns death into rebirth,
Giving your soul a chance to resurrect,
Recreate, and once again illuminate.

Natasha .K. Bailey
"I believe that when death closes our eyes, we shall awaken to a light, of which our sunlight is but the shadow"       - Arthur Schopenhauer
Anne Apr 2019
Why do spring and autumn look the same here?
Tears always taste saltier in April.
May flowers never come.
on the day I felt most afraid,
did the water in the creek stand still?
Doesn’t the water care about me?
Does this creek not weep for the dying trees around it?
For the fish whose corpses quietly float down on it’s floor?

This crow seems to know.
Alone, he squawks,
mauking my pain.

Maybe I’m the stranger,
The irrelevant dot in a map more complex than my cogged brain can understand.
Or maybe the world does dance all around me  each day,
Choosing to ignore my thoughts and actions.
But it’s selfish to think like that, right?
Or perhaps that’s just me falling in love with myself.
Wrote this outside after my friend said she’d try to **** herself and another friend rallied her mom and made sure was okay. She was. I always come back to my creek.
thelemonpolice Jul 2018
I look back at my pictures
I look back at my friends
I look back to the people
I'm trying to mend  

I have a voice
I have a brain
and self doubt
in my veins

And if I look back enough
Maybe there's something I can change

Maybe If I plan ahead
And use whatever I've learnt
To path my road hereon out
Maybe I won't get as burnt

Maybe if I stop and think about
All I need to change
Then I will magically
advance in this game

But am I even a player
I didn't sign up for this
I didn't create my username
Or password
Or click

Who designed all these levels?
And who has made up these rules?
Maybe if I hack the interface
I'll show them all as fools

And no one really quite knows
What on earth is going on
And no amount of looking back or fourth
Will stop where you are.
Alaina Moore May 2018
Skills we don't teach:
How to articulate
to someone you love,
at their weakest state.
In an empowering way;
Negating the overwhelming
you feel inside.
Tommy Randell Jan 2018
calm in the storm today
bush twigs ticking on the window
echo my tongue clicking
syncopate the keyboard

no clear sound from outside
though I see the trees
strutting their stuff in the wind
next door's FOR SALE sign
dancing the Beguine

two candles in my hearth
making little whisper noises
dancing the wax pools
like tamed will-o-the-wisps

the smell of bread
cooling on the rack
caraway & rye
come back Kerouac
bring me some JD!

surf in my ears
an almost white noise
like that from a shell
the silence making it clear
it rules
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