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James Apr 26
The rain pounding outside my window
The gods’ righteous anger manifested
Lightning and thunder, their weapons
And I, the victim bested

If I run naked into the storm,
and let the torrent strip me bare,
will the neighbors think I’ve gone mad?
Or will they even care?
rosie Apr 19
avoid conflict.
mind your business.
be nice,
be friendly

their property
is not yours
to hate on

silently judge
as they do nothing wrong

they're people too


you conflicted
and you stuck your nose
where it did not belong

I want to tell you

scream it
shout it

loud enough so that you can hear it
My neighbors, past and present.
Quaint. Friendly. Wholesome.
Not Elves, Exactly
by Michael R. Burch

(after Robert Frost's "Mending Wall")

Something there is that likes a wall,
that likes it spiked and likes it tall,

that likes its pikes’ sharp rows of teeth
and doesn’t mind its victims’ grief

(wherever they come from, far or wide)
as long as they fall on the other side.

Keywords/Tags: Robert Frost, mending, wall, fences, good, neighbors, southern, border, spikes, pikes, barbed, wire, electrical
Heidi Franke Jan 6
How to leave out hate
Say less and stand out far more
Carve your words with love
Less is more in many instances. Watch your thoughts. Who commands your thoughts? The media, the church, the neighbors, the parents, the past, or is it possible just you.
Randy Johnson Oct 2019
When I say Zombies ate my neighbors, I'm not talking about a video game.
Zombies ate my neighbors and I'm one of the Zombies who is to blame.
Because my family and I are undead, it put us in very bad moods.
My family and I croaked because our neighbors poisoned our food.
A big corporation was going to pay top dollar for every house on the block.
But when my family and I refused to sell, the neighbors were angry and shocked.
I wouldn't sell the house that I've lived in since I was five.
And that is why my wife and kids and I did not survive.
Our neighbors had a barbecue and my family and I ate the food that they grilled.
But we wouldn't have touched the food if we had known that we would be killed.
My family and I have risen from the grave, we have green skin and are zombies.
When our neighbors saw us, they ****** their pants and cried for their mommies.
Our neighbors killed us because money was something they thought they'd gain.
When we had our homicidal neighbors for supper, we started with their brains.
Our greedy neighbors killed us and we returned the favor.
Stay away from my family and I because human flesh is what we savor.
Megan Hammer Aug 2019
Carefree kids on bikes, zigzagging their way to Gross Burgers
Their mothers are hookers, methheads, and nurses
Their dads are nowhere to be found.

But they still laugh, pass around a Coca-Cola
Turn up the Kanye and anger the neighbors
Who wear beards and drive trucks with one hand on the wheel

Carefree kids on bikes, eating push-up pops from Mike’s liquor store
They all smell like green sour patch kids - sour, sweet - almost gone.
Until they smell her lilacs beckoning them home, singing their names from a purple stem

She’s our lifeline, pumping blood through us and into our hearts
Carefree kids on bikes, we’ve only got that old lady on the porch
Carefree kids on bikes, who all the moms get rid of,
Ride to the lilacs, where she quietly gives up her last Coke for one of them

And loves them all,
Without caring where they come from.
Hussein Dekmak Jul 2019
I hope you know, I hold our fond memories together close to my heart,
all that I shared with you about my childhood dreams, my first love,
the songs I serenaded you with melodies celebrating nature,
our endless nights together admiring the stars decorated around the full moon.

I remember how tall you stood, you were so strong
Like Lebanon’s mountains, even with our land’s ancient ruins
Facing the Israeli occupation, you stood with so much pride,
I remember how we rejoiced with family and neighbors during the sweet liberation.

As you know, my Dad planted you with his hands, he nurtured you with his sweat,
His love, he was so strong and now times have changed him,
He’s grown older, thinner, more fragile, his speech is slurred,
The eyes that once held thousands of untold stories are now dim.

You are part of God’s oath, Noah’s mission with the Ark,
You are a sacred plant, a symbol of love, life, peace, friendship
And generations of culture passed down,
Your roots run so deep in mine and my Dad’s hearts and minds.

I’m begging you old friend, lighten up my Dad’s golden age with your kind heart,
Lend him support in taking more steps towards life,
Keep his spirit alive so he can continue singing the song of a new life,
Give him the strength to swing on the porch to admire you again, for every new day and new sunrise.

Hussein Dekmak

Thera Lance Jan 2019
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.
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