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neth jones Nov 6
how sick the mirrors are    of visiting our dumb faces
how weary the door is    of being bolted for our precious privacy
how dreary are our voices  to the walls
          as they are trounced  by our mad surly language ?
are the beds exhausted absorbing our stains ?
are the chairs knackered enduring our strain ?

how burdened are the tables by our taxes ?
how taxed are the windows projecting in ?
is the plumbing fatigued
          or the electric stressed ?
how geared up and fearful are the stairs
           as we begin our ascent ?
how bent out of shape is the ovens mood
           to bloat with heat and then cook our food ?

the engines of our house are in order
though  they must consider their efforts wasted
                     maintaining our bewildering lifestyle
29/09/24
A magnificent flower or a beautiful tree are plants of different breed. You’ll smell their scent float in the air as you inhale to breathe.

An attractive smell is natures spell on every man or beast. I like the aroma of every spice but hate the smell of yeast.

A spray of musk or even oud may change a fellows mood. The fumes of myrrh or sandalwood will make the foolish shrewd.

Our taste may differ from one to one depending on what you wear. But when it comes to what young prefer vanilla is in the air.

But what ladies wear will cast a spell and soften shady hearts. It gives them pleasure in social events while in the crowd they spark.

In every wedding the groom will wait to see his lovely bride, she fills the air with the scent of love a smell no one can hide.
neth jones Sep 26
'pup' is sad and so says
i point out a 'v' of exit geese against the sky
says he's not sad anymore and he's not
a child's power  just like that
observation of my five yr old child
09/24

early haiku style versions -

1.
viewing the exit migration
of a v of geese
my child's sad mood goes

2.
exit migration
  of an echelon of geese
my child's sad mood lifts
neth jones May 29
clouds roiling   blood blue
a day of mouths feeding mouths
i feel subpoenaed

furrows   being turned in the earth
mouths feeding mouths
my thoughts   stimulated

birds and their young
mouths feed mouths
nourishment
3 x haiku style poems
born of one and then splintered for mood
Sadness is the feeling.
Depression is the temperature.
Coldness is the feel.

Pushing above the reel. Is such an option quite a big deal.
I need to find a sweet pickle of a mood.

Protect my drive to improve..

Im tryna keep nice and warm.
Fix my hearts alarm.

Nothing fake, no playing patty cake no baker man for the lost to take.

I  don't know what are my biggest mistakes.
But I refuse to let my peace escape.
For Shardaye Rose Sake.
By_H.E.R#Poetry
S.a.m 2024
I'M NOT FEELING..GOOD..ALL THE TIME
William A Poppen Dec 2023
There is a mood
That seems missing
In the public square

Morning lyrics ring
With truculent sounds
Unescorted
By harmonious echos

Discerning pundits
Wonder aloud
Why divisiveness
Holds sway

Where oh where
Has civility gone

Lost in a forest
Of greed
Submerged in
A sea of avarice
Moods, feelings, emotions
Anais Vionet Jan 2023
Everyone was lazing around, it being the holidays. The intercom buzzed and Lisa got there first to press answer. “Package, on the way up,” the concierge announced. This time of year, a package could be a late arriving gift, there was interest.

It takes a hot minute for elevator three to get to the 50th floor and in those moments, we waited. The foyer of Lisa’s suite looks like a half circle with three doors. To the left is the library (Michael’s office), to the right is a hall leading to bedrooms and straight ahead is the living room.

Lisa was already at the front door. Karen (Lisa’s mom) came into the foyer from the hall and Michael was heads-up at his desk, when the front door finally buzzed. An iPad sized monitor showed a messenger with a bouquet of flowers. “OOO!” Lisa said, opening the door and signing for it.

“Whad we get?” Leeza asked, flying into the foyer, like a vulture, from the living room and saying, “OOO!” When she saw the flowers, following up with “Who’re they for?!”
“Anais,” Karen said with a grin, reading the envelope as Lisa turned the vase for a 360 view.

I was in the living room playing “Disney Dreamlight Valley” on my Nintendo switch when Lisa, followed closely by Leeza, came in with the flowers. “Oh, WOW,” I said, sitting up when I saw them.
“They’re for YOU,” Lisa said, trying to make it sound all casual, but her grin gave the truth away. Leeza gave a hoot of suppressed excitement when I grinned.

Leeza had her phone in hand and took a picture as I accepted the vase from Lisa, setting it on the coffee table as I opened the card. A moment later Leeza pronounced, “It’s a “Warm Embrace Arrangement.” Gen-alphas can research anything, in moments, from their phones. “It cost,” She started to say, and Lisa elbowed her, “OWW!” She exclaimed, then “175 dollars,” as she completed her thought, rubbing her ribs, and took a seat next to me.

“They’re from Peter,” I revealed, (who really can’t afford to spend $175 on flowers).

A week ago (Tuesday), I woke up in a rage, on a vendetta. My eyes opened, and the world seemed dark, like a newly opened box of slights and irritations. Shadows seemed to reach out and the very air seemed gritty and annoying. I wanted to yell at people and maybe ****** someone.
“Remember last week,” I asked the room, “when I was in a funk?”
“I was a witness,” Leeza said chuckling, “I can confirm.” Lisa just nodded.
“Yeah, I needed to rant and you were there,” I patted Leeza’s knee, “Thanks, sorry.”
“All you listened to for days was Rihanna,” Leeza reported, shaking her head.
“It lasted for two days,” I said, wincing at the memory,” that’s when I sent Peter that message.”
“Ahhh,” Lisa nodded, “I get it.”
“Yep,” I nodded back at Lisa, “got my period the next day, it doesn’t usually hit like that.” I said defensively.”
“That explains a lot.” Leeza grinned.
“But look!” Lisa said, putting her arms out like Vanna White, “You got flowers!”
“Poor Peter,” I said, sighing, “I better call him.”
I can see so many colors in the glimmer of my eye standing there at my best
It’s like the energy of every aura sparkles from a distance that I can catch
My world spins slower than normal & my heart enjoys thumping in my chest
The world is all right there just like when you look to the sky
Loving what I see in the mirror but yet still not the man I see in time
I know this is how it feels everytime im at my best, my next best is yet to find
Always at my best but I can always be better
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