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Was a cold windy morning
December of 2018
The sky was grey wind fell with dead leaves.
Standing in the kitchen I watched
Saw my friend on her back porch.
Looking up at the sky the wind had whisked
Filled air with moisture the feeling was bliss.

She stood as the sky and wind blew
Blew air around her, and how her hair had flew
While watching I noticed her smoking a vape
How that vape cloud, clouded her face.

I could see her staring at that sky
As darkened blue and grey
Pelted around feeling awry  
She was looking up
Stuck within deep thought.

As though she was sadly deepened
Or felt happy with a sent of weekend thought
Did she stare up within a deep thought?

What was she thinking?
Was it Past or the present?
Happy or sadness the feeling I guess....
Was indifferent.

She turned to see me staring out
Staring from the door
located directly behind her
Right from her back porch.

She asked what I was doing
As I stated "I saw that she was thinking"
She started cooking
Cooking for her and her ******* the couch
Stuffed green bell peppers with rice
The smell had smelled oh so nice.

Still looking at her aloof
From a supposed statement found a drupe
Now I stood around
Lost in my own thought
A deep thought that could only be found
And found it was not.

She was sitting there with her girl
The girl located beside her,
The ******* the couch.
And she smiled as she ate
Looking at her girl I could tell
That they had felt great!

As they finished eating; her girlfriend
Also my friend pine who had started smoking
Watching again from that back porch
That dark grey sky had turned so white
And As the snow fell, I felt a devilish delight.

Snow fell like marbles in the sky
Only deapend my thought and left me open
I could only look up to see the sky
To which the marbles dropped
And I could feel the smile
That she had felt; I guess I was feeling denial

It was a feeling of the season
Tis of joy with a Christmas feeling
Though it was cold I had felt warmth
Warmed by my deep thoughts
From the heart came the swarm
Of past and present

Seasons greeting and tis the seasons
For my friends and family
Deep thoughts were all but pleasing
Only I could tell from the distance
Of blood family and old friends
And for this I had felt greedy.

Still stuck within deep thought
The day would get better as sure as I thought
And it will because of the Christmas season
Yet for all of my dreaming
Did I feel beseeching from endless trots
And to **** the silence
From all of my deepest thoughts...
Observation can bring so many thing. Makes you think when you see snow turn to rain
"It is equally as important to know useless things as those deemed useful. . .for the ability to skip learning the futile, to show to others how, is as insightful and beneficial as knowledge is to be gained."
Julian Delia Nov 2018
Hello?
Is there anything left? Body heat, perhaps?
Is there a pulse or a deft heartbeat?
Any rough oceans of emotions?
You sit there, phone to your right,
Laptop in front of you, adjusted to the adequate height.

You’re motionless for most of the day,
Inebriated or mindless for most of the night.
Your only movements change channels,
You’re lonely, for your soul never travels.
You remain in the same place,
Occupy the same space, the same nook;
The only humanity you see, you don’t touch or feel, you simply look –
No interaction, only to laugh and mock like a rogue crook.

Your friends and loved ones are images on your phone,
It feels like solitude is all you’ve ever known.
You pose for the camera, but only fool yourself;
You close yourself off, you scoff at those who show emotions.
When was the last time you let yourself be vulnerable?
When was the last time you didn’t pretend you’re unstoppable?

Have you ever breached the barriers of your blindsides?
Have you ever gleaned beyond those white lines?
Please, take off those slave-forged shoes,
Run freely in the soil, you have nothing to lose.
Switch off your mobile prison cell,
Don’t let yourself drift back into this iniquitous hell.
Embrace your soul, peer inside;
Be alive, don’t cower and hide.
Well, are you?
Hannah Chin Oct 2018
A tree stands
In an empty field.
Stripped of its clothes
It bears the wind alone.
Just an observation of some of the people around me.
Ricky Oct 2018
I see this guy at work sometimes.
He looks drained.

Eye lids halfway down.
Neck dropped.
Walking so slow, as if he wants slow down time.

To his left there are kids playing with cups, he looks at them and smiles. I guess that brought back memories of feelings of freedom.

To me freedom is having no fear.
I don’t want to fear paying bills on time, I don’t want to fear trying to create an image people would accept. I don’t want to fear the reality that maybe my life isn’t going the way I’d hoped.

I want freedom from all that.

But “realists” love to say that’s just how life goes.

In African American History class, my teacher told me that Harriet Tubman only saved about 60 slaves, and most of them were family, but there’s a quote from her that says ‘I could have saved thousands - if only I’d been able to convince them they were slaves.’ And that got me thinking. Back then some of those slaves probably thought that that’s just how life goes too. “That’s how things are supposed to be”

Well **** that not me.
I’ma challenge “reality.”
Maybe that’s not my reality because maybe reality can just be your own perception of it.
Mixed in with a little hard work.

So I’ll change what I listen to, I’ll change what and who I’m around because “sweet love and sunshine, if it’s all in the air, then it’s all on your mind.”
Live Ya Life.
Only one chance to get it right.
In nature
trees grow
as wide as the
roots will
allow.

At a point,
science must
surpass nature
or risk becoming
a 'nature' -unto itself.
Liberalintent Sep 2018
Dawn's golden notes stream
across barn's yellow beams
supporting stables hemming horses
cavorting cows sagging udders
melding with yellow hay
bouncing glistening pitchforks prongs
as the song begins.

Dust, glittering as if a nebula, each speck of it freed of
ground, twittering around like birds wading sound.
Spread out, as if a picture, dots of bright ethereal
in their luminescence lightened blinking out
as if frightened, but then heaving about
in the barn's barren air circulating redoubt,
sparkle yet again,
and again,
until they are drowned dark black out
by the opening of a barn door.

Little of moment's loves
Transform our precious
Frail pleasures
Into eternal loves
Unless there is a decision
to greet the old and mundane as
new,
as if dust were stars.
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