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Thera Lance Jan 30
The Home Owners Association
Came by again today
With open glares at
The green crawling across my chestnut walls,
Blocking out my view of
Their pale tan plaster and
Baby blue curtains.

Fees clutched in hand
Eviction notices in their prayers,
They march up to a house,
Existing outside of their domain,
Bought by a grandfather
And never sold to no developer.

I watch with arms crossed
As they step past tomato plants
Whose fathers I planted with mine long ago.

Pleasantries exchanged
Mean nothing combined with
Cold eyes on me as
I politely tell them that their nobility
Has no jurisdiction.

Later when,
One let’s his dog dig up
Pieces of my lawn-less garden,
I stare from my curtain of leaves
At exposed roots,
The veins of a child’s loss reaching into air.

Tears will do no more than moisten the corners
As I walk outside
Camera in hand
Staring at a man
Who slowly droops
While shame dribbles back into his eyes.

Nothing is said,
Even when he turns and quietly walks away,
Leash held slack in hand
And dog loyally trailing behind.
A combination of fiction, news stories, and the real life daily dealings when confronting Surburbia.
sometimes I wonder if the time we use
trying to understand the world
by listening to all the media
might not be better spent
with talking to our neighbors
in the pub next door
over some hearty food
     a pint of beer
just let the permahype of news
dissolve with a good joke
and a nice glass of wine
that makes the friendly spirits shine
Andrew May 2017
In my neighborhood
Your hedge presses against my hedge
In my dreams
Your leg presses against my leg
In my neighborhood
People hate me
In your mind
You overrate me
In my neighborhood
****** burns the sorrow
With you
There's always tomorrow

Neighbors are the worst
They unquench
Labors of thirst

They're also the best
When it comes to people
They're the rest

If you could do me a favor
And not be my neighbor
I need you in my house
You're stuck in my head
You're my louse

Then the neighbors foreclosed my home
Morphing me into the roaming gnome
Does a homeless man have neighbors?
Like a wild dog
With no bone to savor?

It just breaks my heart
When people run each other off the road
With their hate filled cart

In my mind the roadblock is your face
Through the window I see the hate
We'll use my roadblock to erase
Harry Kelly Sep 2018
Another Night Here
Yelling in the Hallway
Can’t make all the words
Never can when they are drunk
A knife was involved
And a chain of some sort
Cops come
They are pleading their cases
Pleading their sides
Cops patiently listening
He pulled knife on me
She’s a *****
Sir please calm down
He’s a drunk
He stole my chain
Now I get the picture
I’m peeking out
I’m a peeker
Goes on for a bit
Ma’am Did he hit you
He pulled a knife
I was cutting something
Sir did you pull a knife on her
No
He threatened me
Did you threaten her
I threatened to throw her out
It’s his place
When this is figured out things calm down
Cops leave
She stays
She just wanted to be heard
She just wanted to be loved
He just wanted to be left alone
Don’t we all.
Don’t we all.
ChildofGodyay Jul 2018
Clings of metal, pots and kettles.

Trumpets of laughter, drumming of tables,
planting of cables.

Sounds of games, clashing of swords, narrator's voice saying "game on!"

Quiet dim lights. Sounds in sound played in rooms, as people bring dishes out at noon.

Walls of cold separated speakers, waves of warmth shook the walls.
Crying in Midnight's, cats at 3, pens clicking at half past two.

Computers locked open.
Music of this neighborhood rang in my ears, as I stand by the door, paper wrapped in hand. Looking to the lights of another home...
Such a lively yet quiet neighborhood....
Harry Kelly Jun 2018
Will Rogers used to say he never met a man he didn’t like.
I admire people like him.
But I’m not one of them.
I meet people I don’t like every day.
It just happens.

Little Grudges, my friend Sal used to say.
“You have a lot of little grudges.”

My neighbor for example,  banging the trash can lids
Outside my window
Two in the morning
Not that it woke me up
But I get up to look
Peek down there
Naturally nosey person that I am
And he’s pushing pushing
What in hell is he pushing at that hour?

So, Will Rogers I am not.
I probably wouldn’t have liked him either.
Brian McDonagh May 2018
When attached to a place,
A certain company, for a long time,
It’s no easy step to meet a new face.

Your quarter, nickel, and dime
Know well how change works;
It can be as sweet as sugar, or sour as lime.

A score of time somewhere one lurks
Withholds the power and experience
To accept seeing new folks, whether angels or jerks.

That’s the code of assimilating in an audience,
Where faces turn seat-to-seat
As if to survey an area of new and one-time presence.

There are small feet, but this is no small feat
To get to know and open ourselves.
Never doubt, though, you may find someone neat!

Stories about us, stories about themselves
In a community that has something to say;
We are books that need to be dusted and read from our shelves.

Leaving the home, mystified with each day,
Us travelers hunger for blood not yet acquainted,
There’s always a new somebody not too far away.

Community: has this a picture painted?
It has always made me nervous meeting new people face-to-face, but to me it's not growth unless an uneasy feeling is felt at some point
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