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Scorpius May 2020
I approached
My Self
With kindness
This morning,
Preparing
The space
To support
And to stretch,
To tear
So to mend.
I received
My Self
With kindness
This morning,
And then
We
Received
You.
Ira Desmond May 2020
The parks are now empty of all but the trees.
The rot in the woodwork has made itself clear:
the virus reveals a more wicked disease.

If we watch each other with growing unease,
more sinister shadows may draw themselves near.
The parks are now empty of all but the trees.

The nurses and doctors make no guarantees;
their furrowed brows are not at all insincere.
But the virus reveals a more wicked disease.

While some may not fret at a cough or a sneeze,          
our day-to-day life shows a mask more austere:
the parks are now empty of all but the trees.

The wealthy can shelter on yachts overseas,
far-flung from the whims of our mad racketeer,
for he, too, was borne of this wicked disease.

But Justice may not brook the fraud she now sees,
her blindfold being repurposed as protective gear.
The parks are now empty of all but the trees,
and the virus reveals a more wicked disease.
Jackie G May 2020
To make a new beginning.
To go through, but suddenly go back.
With the ability to rethink prior actions
Correcting self.
To be better at.
Redirecting thoughts.
Applying evaluation to the experiences.
Creating balance to produce better outcomes.
Preparing the mind then training the flesh to follow.
Often hard to do, because sometimes! what or who that has been obtained must be let go of.
Hope for the better, Even with mixed emotions
Step after step
Starting over could be the best bet
Not only is there a New beginning
Also comes Beautiful Endings
You got this!!!!!
Scorpius May 2020
I breathe,
And notice
Their shades
There
With me,
The older
And the younger,
Quietly
Yearning
To be
Received.
My mind
Pins
Them there,
In respective
Corners,
Puzzles
To be sorted
And compiled,
Until my
Heart does
What my mind
Cannot.
Then we breathe
And we settle.
Em Glass May 2020
here we are, dangling
our feet over the edge
of the meantime,
here we are, sitting
on the edge, dangling
our feet over, letting
the cracked skin of our
fingertips skim the surface
of the meanwhile, waiting
for our reflections to break
all in Illinois
Karijinbba May 2020
To this covid-02-19
virus nightmare
Nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last!

To my absent family
Tortured covertly
drugged for years
Unbeknownst to them
by those they consider best friends
but are leathal impostors
nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last!

To my unprovoked enemies
Nothing bad will ever last.
demonizing me
to my beloved kin
Nothing bad can last.
Nothing evil ever last.

This economic system collapse
covert pandemic WW3,
Millions dying unvaccinated
Billions unemployed dying
vaccines Pfizer containing
potassium cloride ingredients
given large dose then
dying unannounced.
this darkness too shall pass

Star light vessels we are
human spirit resilient armed
Nothing bad ever last.
Nothing bad ever last
Nothing bad ever last.
~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Copy Rights 05-6-20
Nothing bad can ever last!
Ileana Amara May 2020
people possess three things in life:
a shield, a heart, and a dagger

a shield for the logic,
a heart for the soul,
a dagger forged by the strength of emotion,
unbeknownst to many about its origin.

people used these three things,
a dagger to protect oneself from this cruel world,
a heart to beat its rhythm of existence,
and a shield to ward off the weapon from wounding and distorting a heart.

why do we need a dagger?
it takes two to tango,
it takes chaos to begin chaos.

people wander relentlessly,
breathing, and existing and loving,
until a dagger pierces through,
leaving an open wound,
and a weapon sharpened.

little do we know,
the closer the proximity,
the more ideal love gets,
the lesser we see it coming,
the lesser we forget,
a shield is used to protect a soft, beating creature.

from an open wound,
and sharp weapon,
the cycle of chaos arise,
few people heal,
multifolds stab another heart,
"perhaps there will always be another heart to break."

one polished its shield very well;
the logic and knowledge
choked a heart to non-existence,
there was nothing left to stab,
there was nothing left to feel.

one stood with a wooden shield,
a state of balance within,
of calm and chaos and fear
to wound and lose its heart,
and be forced to survive with a dagger.

the pandemic goes on,
perhaps only until the daggers cease to exist,
soft creatures cannot battle with a heartless one,
it can only tame a while, until it becomes distorted and heartless too.

the pandemic weakens
when a wounded heart heals,
not because of the shield,
not because of time itself,
but because it's a wonder: some hearts can never be irreparably broken.

IA
Scorpius May 2020
The practice
Today
Has been
Not so much
A flow
But
A tumble,
Bumping
And crashing
Into one
Hard place  
Then the next,
As I breathe
Space
Into the gaps
And smile
With
The thought
That today
Seems not
For floating.
Scorpius May 2020
I bring
The third eye
To the ground
And breathe,
Feeling the
Weight
I call “mine”
In the world
That we share.
He calls out,
Stops me,
From behind
And asks
For the part
That comes
After
The writing,
The part
That is
Us
Loving
Us.
And I
Pause
Insight
And slip
This weight
I call “me”
Back
Into bed
For some
Cuddles.
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