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Mose Jan 2023
My heart is spring in January. I can feel it in my bones when it's about to rain. The smell, the unearthing of everything we buried. It's the way in grief too.

Anniversaries are the seasons we never can quite escape. Pulling us back into the tundra & frozen in time. We revisit the moments as if they never quite left us.

I swear each year the midwesterners must reckon the seasons changing yet again, but each winter all still feels the same to them....

Like it was the very first time.
Randy Johnson Jan 2023
Last night we said goodbye to 2022.
Out with the old and in with the new.
The new year is here at last.
2022 is a thing of the past.
I hope that 2023 will be a terrific year.
And when I say that, I'm being sincere.
I hope the new year will bring happiness and prosperity.
We said goodbye to 2022 and we're saying hello to 2023.
Anais Vionet Dec 2022
Gigi Hadid wore pearls, a t-shirt and jeans to Paris fashion week. So, our (Lisa, Leeza and my) theme for this New Year’s Eve is “Jeans and pearls.” To be accurate, Gigi’s distressed, slouchy bottom, boyfriend jeans were embroidered with pearls - the pearls weren’t worn as a necklace - but Lisa and I think anything involving embroidery is a trailer-park trend - so we’ll be wearing strings of pearls. If Karen (Lisa and Leeza’s mom) lets us, that is.

Karen has four strings of Tiffany pearls - called Essential, Ziegfeld, Akoya and South Sea Noble. They’re all 16-inch, single strand strings (which we all prefer) and they range in value from $600 (the Akoya) to the expensive (South Sea Noble) string - that she won’t lend anyone. The good news is, if anyone is thinking of buying me a string of pearls, I can’t tell the difference between the cheap string and the expensive string.

Leeza (Lisa’s 13-year-old sister) wants to be included in EVERYTHING this year, which is funny because last year she either attacked us or completely ignored us. This year, Leeza has a thirteen-year-old’s razor-sharp instincts and relentless curiosity.

As we’re Planning New Year’s Eve, Ethan Bortnick’s song, “Engraving” was playing. It’s a crazy song with middle-school, EMO, angsty vibes. One of the lines of the song is “strip for me”. As the song ends, Leeza suddenly asks us, “Have you two ever been to a *******?”
“No”, I answered.
Lisa said, “Once.”
“What?!” I asked.
“Really?” Leeza gasped, “Spill!” She demanded.
“This has random context,” Lisa begins, “I’ve been inside a ******* once in my life.”
Leeza and I tittered nervously. “I’m scared,” Leeza said, as an aside, grinning and rubbing her hands on her knees, clearly more delighted than scared.
“I was attending a middle school, Model UN conference, at Brown University,” Lisa continued, “and they took all the kids to a ******* for their model UN social.”
I gasped and blurted “There’s NO way this happened.”
“Yes,” Lisa insisted, “you can ask my mom.” she said, with a serious look, “And, and obviously, it was rented out for the night, but they didn’t, like, think to take away any of the normal features. There weren’t any strippers, but they didn’t take the poles down and they didn’t turn off the multiple TV screens on all the walls that were playing their normal rotating video content.”
“Wow,” I said, with my hand over my mouth. Meanwhile, Leeza was chortling like a mad woman and rocking back and forth.
“Everyone walked in,” Lisa went on, “and it was just middle schoolers, thirteen years old. There were pictures of the dancers on the poles, and our history teacher came in, and freaked OUT, saying, “Oh, no, No, NO!” Because it was a school event, we had taken school buses there, it was a boondoggle. They turned us all around and hustled us out of there.”
Leeza had stood up and was twirling with glee. Middle schoolers live for chaos.
“Taken out of context,” I said, “It was crazy you went to a ******* in middle school.”
“It was a jump scare, for sure,” Lisa confirmed, “we went from one vibe, a school field trip, to a *******.”

Anyway, for New Year’s, a lot is still up in the air - undecided - but we’re determined that we want to have a blast. We’re young and we want to support bad ***** energy (BBE).
“Oh, I have a BBE song!” Lisa squeals, “Mafiosa!” (by Nathy Peluso) She names it as it begins playing.

The songs in Spanish and when it ended, I’d looked up the lyrics because my 2 years of Spanish weren’t good enough. I tell Leeza the lyrics go: “Let the bad men fear me, when I arrive in my car - they speed off.”
“Yes!” Lisa Laughs, “We don’t drive - but, YES!”
“Emotionally,” I say, laughing too. “But verse two asks the great question, “What the frack is wrong with men when it comes to women?”
“It’s,” Lisa started, looking up and searching for words, “SUCH a timeless question.”
“Why’d you pick that song?” Leeza asked.
Lisa chuckled,” Because you don’t get more BBE than a female Mafiosa killer.”

Update: Karen agreed that as long as Charles is with us (and really, when isn’t he with us?), we can borrow the three inexpensive pearl strings (worth about 5k). So, I’ll be wearing the Akoya pearls, an Anna Molinari white, basic, cotton-shirt, washed denim cropped jeans with white bridal flats and Lisa and Leeza will wear their own, white tops, jeans, flats and pearls and we’ll be on-theme.

Happy New Year’s Everyone!
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Boondoggle: a wasteful activity involving public money or labor.
Alex McQuate Dec 2022
Fight, Love, Look, See,
Take in such a beautiful brawl that stars you and me,
Flying chairs and broken glass,
Blackened eyes and much-kicked ***.

One more time around that big ball of fire,
What will this trip bring this time around?
Some mud and hard to trek mire,
Or gold and diamond laid ground,
An easy path ahead towards we joyfully bound?

Such wisdom must lie in the future,
Startling realizations and obstacles we approach,
Yet stretches onward like a magnificent azure beacher,
That one might upon first glance be wary to broach.

But saunter forth we must,
With the trodden gait of some war-weary old sailor,
With a rind of salt crust,
Who has been both Captain and Bailer,
Lost-Limbed and near broken.

Such a great journey this last trip was,
Such changes it has brought,
With a son I learned caution and to be more kind,
Abandoning my careless risks,
To have more presence of mind,
To weigh my options and be more careful with my money,
And to always be more kind.

But roots you should not forget,
To take chances still,
To still live life with no regrets,
For no flour is made in a place that is a still mill.

Love this world,
But don't hate the things you can't change,
Fight for those things,
With tooth and claw,
For those things will be the most relished victory of all.

I sit here typing this,
A bittersweet adieu to the year 2022,
For death rung in the year,
And leaves me with the gift of a new life,
The start with a startling pain from the stab of a knife,
But ending with the approaching of joy that is oh-so-near.

Lace up your boots,
******* your pack,
Take a seat,
Buckle in,
7 seconds left on this bucking bronc,
A last kick that will bring a few more knocks,
But will bring in the new year with smiles that lets the last stings of death defrocked.
Zywa Dec 2022
A magpie inspects

what is trusted, what is new --


around my new house.
Collection "NightWatch"
Roxxanna Kurtz Nov 2022
There’s something about the look in your eyes
that sinks me deeply.
Your gaze an anchor in my chest
that’s managed to snag onto the edges
of my fluttering heart.
And with every breath, I feel you pull me down into the depths of the blood that rushes to meet the surface of my cheeks.
I can’t breathe when you look at me.
Descovia Nov 2022
Just like this beautiful weather,
everything brings changes
The signs, I no longer ignore
a woman like you is worth waiting for.
I embrace the beauty in moments as these.
She is my twin flame, her light, it's powerful.
It's heavenly, it shields me, my soul from freezing
and bounding itself to ugliness. Her warmth is all I need
Ricky & Descovia collaboration

It combines
Ricky M. Martinez's Quote:
Just like this beautiful weather,
a woman like you is worth waiting for.

&
Descovia's: Everythng brings changes. The signs, I no longer ignore
I embrace the beauty in moments as these.
She is my twin flame, her light it's powerful.
It's heavenly, it shields me my soul from freezing and bounding itself to ugliness.
_Her warmth is all I need_
Ken Pepiton Apr 10
The shooter seems willing to speak…
- I was lied to. I was good for nothin'
sure, as a young rapscallion's apprentice, why
who would not be mad, upon learning of the ways
bank's means support the boys being used as mercenaries,
- and yeah,
what a wonderful thing compounded confounding interests
seem, gee, America was great,
for some people, all the time,
sorted ones, picked for preparation,
smart kid, we can use such, prepared,
liberally educated and earnestly able,
to make a plan, write a thesis, daily table,
to change a plan into a scheme, ability
imbued with a curious charisma, they say,

so full of his personality, like Donald,
Goofy and Minnie both nod, ****,
did you vote for Al Smith, back then,
when America was great, and fortunes
was made selling Bridges in Brooklyn,
?
time and again, its like we was there,
East end, West end, all around the town,
but, at the movies,
in little dark structures serving ancient needs,
hands could be held, and, dare we, yes, yes,
all the way, America wins the America's Cup,
a true, real deal feel we are in that Spirit,
riding wind under the Oracle banner,
winning America's cup, for spreadsheet people.
- everyday folks who watch old movies on TV.
- And the folks who make those movies for you.

Those are the teams, eh, the people versus the people.
Spy vs. Spy, yes … Mad, Al Smith, and Alfred E. Neuman,
Barak, atar adonai ai ai ai, did I not
warn you,
allusions to Jeopardy questions evoke immediate inssi-der
we won. Not ironically, sublimely subtleeeeeeeeeee

Something t's me off, I swing. Killer instinct. Gut reacts.
Spirituality is gaseous, mystical, like swamp gas,
but in your belly, burning, below the bosum.
Political fodder sent me, into a tizzy, tis the last straw, nobody is that stupid twice. Then I look into the mirror...this was October, now is April
Glenn Currier Aug 2022
When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.
I thank Archer (https://hellopoetry.com/McBleak/) for the idea for this poem with his poem, “Waiting Game (https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4598204/waiting-game/v)
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