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Heidi Franke Jun 11
Where is your Ok line?
Lay upon the asphalt of your tender life?

Does this line fall straight or
Wander like a rivers ebb?

Does your OK line look away from Native children of America forced to give up their language with a safety pin in their tongue?

Or does your voice remain silent, letting white paint on black dictate another's worth but your very own, into the hands of righteous power.

Does your OK line follow blindly with conformity from false prophets who seek to control your mind making it easy for you to turn away from suffering?

My OK line seeks for equality, self-determination, and soothing suffering
With my voice and pictures that will never be silenced in a democracy but will be sold to the highest bidder in a dictatorship.

How silence kills and you suffer less believing you are somehow more disserving. You are as equal as the stone stuck in the sole of your shoe.

Remember the discomfort is equal for all. That's the OK line. We are equal; stone, thorn, blade and heart. Bleed, but bleed less in company of a powerless generation who votes the OK line towards freedom of choice. None will be free from our last breath.
Parking lot recently paved with black asphalt, with added yellow parking stripes. What caught my eye was the lone thing straight line drawn all the way to the end to mark where the yellow line should end. That small line said, "OK Line" with squiggled line below to add emphasis to the cimment. Took a black end white photo. It remains stuck in my mind until today
Ken Pepiton Apr 24
Adapting re
voluntary reading
to the future, when we've
nothing to do so, sub-con
science frictions call all men liars.

I am by no means chief,
I came from the Calebland Productions,
early Eighties,
Macintosh and Appletalk, and Silicon Beach
grand brainstorms insisting if we heat it
the entire idea of dust as us and our mites…
just willing to revolve with the planets will
enough all those old winds that twisted
like we did last summer,
wind up like
those ones, wow, so real.

Northwest Passage is open, and yet,
none acknowledge life in full control,
something literarily evolving
where the crawdads eat the corpses,
Bayou Blue, Barrios and Pepitons,
cheri mio, we had some fun,
we all sung, on that by
you seem to agree, we won.
we won the evolutionary war,
mankind, wombed and un,
ever so long ago, none knew, we did

but time is a bit of a Ouranos cycle,
looks like a great ocean churning gyre,

of which the last swirling tide reminder
fit to an old spider web designer,
loser backslider
with a gambling wife,
who took a chance on me,
what do we see, but what we get,
generously, love is there
for the looking for,
and for remembering finding, and
really, when a man

from the molds
that made our we this kind of old man,
an individuated
NPC, in a cast of thousands,
acting stand in assistant to the
assisting intelligence time accounting,
massive messaging, is a thing
are you aware…?
your connection can self correct,
your bluetooth can whistle
in your ear,
we made it up.
The loss, we, laughed and made it all up.
Just being doing the right thing, and thinking we share some mindspace.
I took the time you were not using otherwise, and made this mindtimespace.
Zack Ripley Mar 11
It seems like it's getting harder to know
if it's OK to say or do something these days. Maybe it's because I'm getting older.
Maybe it's because I care more.
Regardless of why, I must admit I find myself somewhere between sad and scared.
Sad and scared that I can't keep up.
Sad and scared that I'm slowing down.
Maybe you are too. If that's the case,
I'll tell you what I've been telling myself
when I feel this way: it's healthy to be sad.
It's healthy to be afraid.
And if you're being healthy,
you don't have to feel guilty
or let it ruin your day.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2022
Sell me some good news,
I am open to buy,
what can I do if I've no wish to be, but
the acceptor of the grace,
undeserved, unearned favor, good luck
at the very least.
I wish to be happy among happy folk.
All I bring is my joy
in the being at all, able to make it up,
on demand, my joy,
as a strength,
a will not to weep over missed best chances/
I did not earn my joy through right use ,
it came with the package.
I came into this world, the winner
in the life I examined, after living a while,

to determine the worth of living
by no will of my own, I occurred
raw material, into a story with all ya'll init,
or destined to be
as my future catches up with us all…

that's what prophets say poets do, see, look ahead,
what could happen, if we stick to the plan,
we lack. Right, this is comic relief, nothing serious,
a gravity issue, perhaps, apophrenia kicking up
all things seeming
not to fit, as fit as was once imagined, hmmm.
What good can one do... in a ready made universe... be good. I guessed.
apophenia (n.)
"tendency to perceive meaningful connections between unrelated things," 1961, from German Apophänie, said to have been coined 1958 by psychiatrist Klaus Conrad, from Greek apophainein "to show, make known, show by reasoning, produce evidence," from apo- "from" (see apo-) + phainein " to show, cause to appear" (from PIE root *bha- (1) "to shine").
Ogo Uche Jul 2022
She was as green as a child
Full of innocence and wonder
Then as red as blood
Full of intent and purpose
Eventually as blue as the ocean
Full of achievement and gratitude
Finally as brown as earth
As she had finally lived through
All her budding intent.
everyone ages
Nina McNally Jun 2022
"****'s gonna be okay It's gonna be alright No matter
How far down you are tomorrow's on your side"
It's gonna work out even when
The whole world is
Spitting it back in your face and feels like there's no

Guarantee-- it's gonna be just fine!
One day you're gonna get everything you've worked hard for.
Now just breathe and move through this moment
No one can tell you how to live your life
And no one can

Be a better you than you.
Each day is a new chance to try again. It's

Okay to not be okay sometimes! I'm here with
Kindness and love for the both of us!
written back in Jan. 2022
song title and lyrics from I Fight Dragons
Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022

Finding my ****** expressions without makeup,
Fixing my heart when girls say, "let's just break up,"
Figuring out my next steps when things start to shake up,
But I really get annoyed by the nice people we meet; saying,
"let's just f**k"

Oh what is this life; and what am I living for?
Giving all the pieces of your life, but it always wants some
more. As I'm senseless to the less sense of my interests to
my less cents. So reckless to my repentance; and a wreck to
all of life's pressures.
Weighing myself down on all it's measures. How to be strong
with yourself, with all of these offered pleasures?
But we all know nothing lasts forever. Still a chance of having
it now, could make things feel a little better.


Still the lover; longing for a love to actually love,
Stuck with food for thoughts; but it feels like my wisdom
is still keen to starve,
Searching all of the skies, for all of my answers from the above,
Scheming on all of my luck to success; with the few of my cards,
But the game of life is always so hard.


Where am I going, in these night trips to nowhere,
Who knows their final destination, only after their death's despair,
Why is life this constant carnival game, paying a fair to being
so unfair,
When do I show face to face my challenges, if I dare?

And this is all the okay to the okay, the day after today. Two
days into choices of Tuesdays. But no matter the day;
it's always a battle to just seem okay.

And that's okay...
Sadie Grace Oct 2021
Sometimes my chest starts to hurt like a car is crushing me, choking the life out of my fragile body, and running me over and over and over again and again and again

And sometimes my hands start to shake like I’m old and can’t control my body and I can’t control it and I can’t stop and it just keeps going and going and going and going over and over and over again and again and again

And my head starts to spin and I think to myself “I’m dying” and I look around and see people talking but I can’t hear a thing and I can’t catch my breath and I can’t breathe and I gasp and I can’t breathe and I can’t catch my breath and I gasp and I think to myself “I’m dying”

And as I stand there with my chest hurting and my hands shaking and my head spinning and as I think I’m dying I start to hear over the commotion in my brain and I make out from all the noise someone saying “everything is going to be ok”

And all of a sudden I take a deep breath and as I breathe in a little bit of peace, I breathe out all of the tension and fog and mess and the repetition and the cycle of hell that my body just experienced

And I realize

Everything might be ok

And after a few moments

I can breathe again

And after a few moments, I wipe the tears from my eyes and stand up

And after a few moments

I’m ok
a poem about a panic attack
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