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Andy Chunn Jan 2023
Warm and windy, not November at all
The rains have wandered everywhere
But this dusty grid of dead turf

Sail, sail and turnover, it’s beautiful
Rebecca would like it here today
Open, wide open and free
The dirt smells like the forty other fields
Where I’ve spent the best part of my life

Wonder -- I wonder
If those purple shirts were lined down
***** and sweaty, ten abreast
With pain and determination in their eyes
And blaspheme in their breaths
Could I hit it?
Concentrate;  head down, follow through;
I doubt it.

Terrible;  missed it
Wobble like a falling dove
From the spray of that old double-barrel
Bounce wrong, like a sad story
It ends with a bleak emptiness
Keeping up is impossible
Reading less, running slower, timing off
Knowledge fading, the science doubles its contents
As I wander in the ignorance that surrounds me

Short, so short;  no power left
So long and so short the time simply ceased
It would fly so strong then
But dribbles now

Jog to the ball
The muscles ache, the lungs rebel
Give way to the young you old fool
You can’t cut it anymore

The winds are turning from the north
Winter is so close
The time that could not end is over
And I miss it.
More, better, higher, super, greatest
The future lies ahead
But I miss it
Written long ago....but I still miss it.
Sara Brummer Dec 2020

Sound spreads like a cold splash
trembling with high connections.
The exuberant voice of the bell
shatters the hush of air.

Great clouds seem to echo,
startling dreamers, breaking
the deep tone of somber thoughts.

There is a wondering at sound,
ringing out the morning mist
or the last remains of day.

There is a coloring of time,
bulging outwards like a
courier with urgent news.

Why, bell, do you remind us
of the passing hours when
mind, listening to a long-lost
song, only wishes to travel
Sean Achilleos Aug 2020
In the past I used to say
God, take my headaches away
Now, I say thank you for tribulation
Because you've proven to me that I can overcome them
I used to ask
Remove the impossible people from my life path
The ones I don't want to deal with
Now I say thank you for those idiots
For they have sharpened my senses
I now recognise a foolish person by their shadow
And though we sometimes wish to be young again
We'd never want to be foolish again
And the greatest gift one can obtain is wisdom
Sean Achilleos
25 August 2020
reyftamayo Aug 2020
galaw ka ng galaw
sumakay ka na lang
wag ka nang malikot
lilibot pa tayo
hanggang doon sa laot
hindi mo mapipigil ito
kahit sabihin mo pang
a bag
of skill
and time
is shrill
there to
bite the
beau with
antiseptic and
kiss the
blues away
the tear
to till
the tack
debonairly so
today is
solidarity my
honey bunch
a time to discuss
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
by Michael R. Burch

Black waters—deep and dark and still.
All men have passed this way, or will.

Published by The Raintown Review and Blue Unicorn. Also translated into Romanian by Petru Dimofte. This is one of my early poems, written as a teenager. I believe it was my first epigram. Keywords/Tags: River Styx, death, Charon, ferry, passage, black, waters, deep, dark, still, undeniable, inescapable, eternal, eternity
Bhill Mar 2020
we are surrounded by cluttered thinking
is it surprising
we need to light the torches of our minds
burn through the misinterpretation
flush out the decoy that has represented itself as truth
find a passage
think facts
rescue our purpose

Brian Hill - 2020 # 62
Find your passage and rescue it..
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