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I was forty- five years old, by chance, I wrote,
My very first song/poem. I am sitting in the same room,
Like then all alone, When I received a sad call, on the telephone.
A drinking buddy, Randy, stumbling on the words, he had to say,
His buddy Jamie, fell off a cliff, his last step, his life,
Ended that day. I had never planned to write, a song or poem,
I could hear Randy’s voice, he was lost, so alone.
I remember, arguing with, a voice inside, of me,
Which kept, saying you can do it, just write you will see.
I gave it a try, I was probably high, Within about,
One hour, Jamie’s Song, I had printed in pencil, before my eyes.
To this date, I have around two thousand finished, with about,
Another four hundred started, I never finished those songs,
My siblings, parents, the lady I married, and Randy,
Left this life, they have all passed along. There is no happy ending,
At least for today, I do thank God, for the talent, of writing words,
In a special way, the ideas can arrive anytime night, or day I then try to finish one then set it aside. A bittersweet feeling, I should feel proud inside,
I know there will be times in everyone’s life, we should have,
A beaming smile, which is washed away by tears from our, lost miles.
                The Original: Tom Maxwell© 8/15/22 AD
Alkia Dec 2024
I just want to layout on top of a straight line to mourn over my past life that I left behind. The new beginning has waited for me for so long that I thought pride would have come over me, even though that is not the case, no matter the circumstances of your past life, it will always follow you to your new life. It never escapes your new beginning, no matter how happy you are, the moment you layout on top of a straight line it all comes back to you.
Erwinism Sep 2024
You’ve got a city pass in City of Uncertain Love,
walked through the door,
didn’t so much as flinch,
even after all the plasma drawn from this love,
you walked away hissing,
bared sharp fangs, jaundiced from all the scathing words that flowed,
pale as a vampire,
it was you after all and not me you said.
Enamored with the sights and sound, the 360 degree dining experience with a view of the future, complemented with vocabularies to match your mood, aged like wine in the vineyard of pick-up lines,
while I’m left here in a curiosity shop of brokenness:
kisses spat back into the bottomless void of yesterday;
thoughts of once newly-minted strangers we were scrawling notes and now smeared by tear stains;
a heart with no discernible shape, slapped for dragging beats on the snare;
A corpse of a phone you have murdered taking it off life support when you eloped with my charger;
mismatched pillows you left, still possessed with the ghosts of restlessness nights haunting the halls of my mind with echoing arguments of what to eat for dinner;
a spare key—a wedding ring for a keychain.
I fell apart.
Ring!Ring!Ring!
“So, everything didn’t work out for you?”
—inaudible—
“Do you know what time is?”
—inaudible—
—you missed me?”
—inaudible—
“Uh-huh….
Sorry to hear, but there are no refunds for your freedom ticket. Bye!”
Click!
Ken Pepiton May 2024
When it was the holy ghost, and fire,
keeping us alive,
believing was just what we did,
knowing one does not live
by bread, alone. As
we'as born free,
as free as we could be,
while knowing nothing needful,

truth wise, having no clues to start with,

how might one discover fire can be made
artificially, using wit wit' gumption,

to feel the heat,
live and learn to keep a secret
without ever asking why
why why, I wonder
did she run away,

why do some say life
is like an egg,
is that a hardboiled egg, eh

the games around egg finding, learning
where to look, what to look for, color,

blue, on green, jewel among jewels,

all the manifestations of gravitational
coherences causing such things as us

and causing us to be the first mortals,

contemplating long now laws on
conscience usage, with knowing never outlawed,
forgone conclusions forbade partaking,
for mere hearers of the songs,
learning early to enjoin the dance,

but never hearing music laugh.

I am Shiva, imagine me,

I rode the ox, imagine that,

death
merely threatened life,
life laughed and let its shadow pass.
us gaseous weform nodes in ancient hate.

Old bull minds baited good as bears...
After somebody did let the dogs out,
a we cheered to witness the killing,
made the ****** proof
a national pride,
freedom from the press, let us have,

teach the children backward thinking,
make them read Red Badge of Courage,

after the library lady recommended Plato,
as a follow up to Orwell, in 1962,

break my mind, feed me lost generations,
recollections, all we learned of war is lies,
all we learn from peace is past understanding.
Growing old and quite satisfied that wealth is comfort enough to share.
Mark Wanless Feb 2024
mi casa es mi casa
i dream of family
slowly all pass
K Nov 2023
I’m sorry, I’m sorry I am not gonna make it to our dinner plans on Saturday. I had something else to do.

I’m sorry I am not gonna make it to the party on Friday. I had something else to do.

I’m sorry I am not gonna make you breakfast on Sunday. I had something else to do.

And what I’m mostly sorry for is I am not gonna be able to kiss you tonight love or the night after that, or the night after that, I had to go and I couldn’t say goodbye.
George Krokos Nov 2023
Money can be like water as it flows through our hands
and the more we have to do with it the more it demands.
-------------
Money seems like water as it passes between our fingers
and the longer we have to deal with it the more it lingers.
-------------
Money is like water as it's grasped with our hands
and the firmer we hold it the more it withstands.
________
Written in 2020
A comparison of money to water in 3 couplets.
AE Jul 2023
"I hope you find ease."

"This discomfort is temporary, and that is the beauty of time. I have found my ease in that mere thought."

"But pain is pain."

"And it passes, like grief, it buries itself deep within, growing its roots and blooming into gardens, disguised as triumphs and memories.”
leeaaun Jan 2023
blame is like a posion
no one wants to carry its weight
so they pass it onto you
as you're considered
a pushover
in their language
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