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Khoisan 6d
am a feeble man
hopefull thoughts
face my gravestone
dead poets
their words are restless
forever out there
those in need.
in the still of the sight
I RiP.
Lydia Jun 18
I got my raise at work today
it’s a reminder that you’re worth is based on percentages in life and titles that you hold
I should be so happy
I should be grateful for pennies because I even got anything at all
my value is in the dollar amount I make an hour and bring home annually and I should feel proud that it still isn’t enough but I made more this year than I did last year so how dare I be ungrateful
I should be purposefully working my youth away for a few cents every year because I have a job and I have a roof over my head and bills to pay
And ya know Wow what a blessing it is to be alive and be a human
in the rat race called life I should just so grateful to be here….
Dearest darlings Phoenix my fire birds how I love you how I miss you
My true love my grown children jewels of my crown motherhood
Beloved I too am your Phoenix Mother your first love
Forever and ever treasures adored rddbbajpcasg.
Phoenix bird wild birds of paradise beloved
Golden eggs if mine
My tragic life full of happiness
Infinite love baby girls my true loves
Forever and ever I love you adore you worship you
Yes I am crying like you are
We are one eternally
Come to me in every lifetime
I will protect you guide you free you adore you worship you.
It's a golden promise
From your Phoenix Mom.
Khoisan May 3
am a feeble man
hapless thoughts
face my gravestone
dead poets
their words are restless
forever out there
those in need.
in the still of the sight
I RiP.
When a tree waves its green leafy hand,
Most don't notice, but I understand;
The swaying of a flower, the buzz of a bee . . .
That's how my garden beckons to me

The little blades of grass gently nod
As a worm pokes his head through the sod;
Cast blame if you will on my vanity,
But I'm certain he's looking for me

Now the wind wants to join in the game --
Spying a windchime, it takes careful aim;
Soon the air fills with a soft melody,
And I smile, knowing it's playing for me

I watch as the sun sweeps clouds away,
Showing off with such gaudy display;
But I must admit, the sun's victory
Causes the flowers to dance with glee

And I stand in awe amidst this scene
Of peace and beauty.  If I were a Queen
What nobler entitlement could there be
Than these treasures unfurled before me?

A warble suddenly hushes life's din,
And soon more feathered minstrels join in;
But such incidents are no mystery . . .
That's just my garden calling to me
Nat Lipstadt Feb 24
The Level of Uncertainty, This Yellow Star

“Even though I’m OK right now,
there’s a sense it could all go
away in a second.”  

a disease well known to me,
not “as if,” but in fact
been Cain-marked at
birth to be wary, be watchful,
ever alert, never inert in the
realm of possibilities,
the king
in my universe’s galaxy is the
randomness of existence,

microsecond, milligram minuscule,
muscular instability that even if

it’s bespoke nature, customized
just for me, lurks, prepared to ****
me into a hard fall, loss of balance

I prepare with subtleties, minute
measures, discrete and indiscreet,
measured steps, slow-wide turns,
“hands on the railing down the stairs we go”
motto~attitudinal, antithesis~carefree,
for this birthmark was forehead installed
from birth, as a reminder that
reckless abandon
is a countervailing force,
and there are whales in the ocean
and whole coteries of fish in the sea,
waiting, wanting to swallow me whole,

lions across the ocean faraway continents
eager for a nibble of my tender heart,
round ****, and
thousands of people
who hate me and my kind, for no reason,
other than my birth mark,
this foreheaded
yellow star,
notifying all eyes, that I am to be dreaded,
feared, for reasons no matter,
just but unjustly

because, I am a Jew

who prays thrice
times daily for peace
for the whole world.

Sat Feb 10
J Vital Jan 29
Solitude Whispers
Peaceful ripples through Serene,
Silent lake mirrors.
I struggle with my heart.
It’s so bruised. I’m still healing.
It feels tender to the touch.
When anyone gets close
a guard rises up out of my mind
to close off access.

Through the shield she peers out,
desiring love, to press against
another’s beating heart.
But she still bleeds sometimes,
the wounds don’t heal
like they do in the physical.
I don’t know how to close
the lacerations,
and so they remain open.

I look into myself,
and cry into my broken heart.
The astral tears are bitter
and cause the heart to ache.
Perhaps all that can be done
is to hold my broken pieces together,
and let time pass,
recreating me again and again.
Create so many new layers of me
that my heart is intact once again.
Day by day, choosing to be whole
will manifest a whole new being.
Time heals all wounds. Isn’t that what they say?
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