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Zywa 1d
Read, and realise:

it is also about you --


this past history.
Column "Oh, oh, Madame, overdrijft u niet?" ("Oh, oh, Madame, aren't you exaggera-ting?", 2018, Marjoleine de Vos), in the nrc.next of October 26th, 2018

Collection "Here &Now&"
Idle word redemption day. {optional title}

Clocking time.
Timing coincidence,

confident tempus fugit…

ever learning, never certain,
each lessoning examined

conscience temptation, fug-edaboudit,
esse,
This is the day,
laid out
in front
of time's arrow

to be shot thro-
ugh-**ing A,  okeh, shot…out
ra' rough, footballer mind
an instance
in prayer… patiently ghine

-----------

He, if he were you,

ignoring nothing, finding quiet

time, alone,
in an empty house;

he would think, being as you
were he, I think,

rare, quiet, not noiseless, listen
the humms, the wind rattling
leaves in Live Oaks,
needles in Pines,

birds whose peeps are
playing
with my ears,
tuning mine
to his who hears

quiet time slipping by,
acknowledging most
deafening noise

is all
in the mind.

--------------

Wally Amos, are you still famous?

Me, too. Locally.

Famous for fine grandchildren,
Parent-Teacher Conference
confirmed, year after year,
fine
grandchildren given access
to books, and self education,

And wicked fast internet/
tutorials for anything

solvers of Rubic's cubes,
setters of gathering magic what's

and ifs, and but then, so that's
better, he thinks, this tinker

touching each across time,
think yourself useful to us all. Amen.

----------------------




Laughing, thinking of shouting,
at the floor, I am
so intense
because

I am alive
in my own future,
the world's a mess, unless,
I laugh,
and take the good.

It is a sunny November day,
after the promised latter rain,
laughter functions, leaving lines

where old faces wrinkle happily,
fitting character traits common
to old scout squinty perspicacity.

-------------------

Bored, in ever after, eh?

¿Made no plans
    to pursue, when you had time?

Well, as a filler word,
or is it
a feeler a
wordwiggle rough
through a ra'thought,
be may, may be, maybe so,
declaratively so said, indeed, thinking
beauty be,
what if now,
is the same time,
any instance taken
seriously curious wise,

from the initial point perceived, taken, held
to hold this thought, or hold that thought
as self evidently true,
having being
in minds
let be found like live words,
in spirit form, as breaths, taken

held, to rethink against knowing again
what was meant,
so long ago,
when all words got scrambled,
some lost all sense,
such be idle, now,
set to activate
on recognition, off, set
which is no longer the case, you know
common conscious
ness is the use, men-tal chabad
of knowledge actioning knowns
under the God
pledged and sworn
to try to tell the truth,
the whole truth y nada mas,
aliegiantly, in the spirit of Liberty…
inspired emperically in poetry
IF, Gunga Din
allah
Tha… just so, says
fear was the problem,
not knowledge
of wonder and adversity,
so opposed
for honor,
as translated good vs evil,
to death, staining beguilement,
from aha, got it, reason
to woe, original curse, sin
during developmental stages
interesting times first tier burns
of what our story says we mustabin,
in the dark ages, previous to the internet.

[[== jest, so ==]]-

eftsoons
obsolete or archaic way
of saying "soon afterward,"

ongean magical once more,
with feeling.
If life did not pass so fast, it could be much more phun.
Ejiro 2d
If you want to live in the past
then so be it then
but I want to let you know a few things
you can continue dwelling inside a past life with people that made you feel at home
but those people that were apart of your past are not there anymore
they are now in the present
and who knows
maybe they’ll be in the future next
the only thing left in your past
is just memories
with some cut-out holes in between
so if you want to go back
then go ahead and be my guest
once you finally go back there
the only thing waiting for you there
is just cut-out holes
echoing pure silence
some of the best things we create
are meant for others to explore.
we grow too fast, we learn too late,
we leave before the curtain call.
and in the end all that we've made
turns into words, engraved in stone.
some of the best things we create
will only matter once we're gone.
Dear Dreamer,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that no one loved you the way you loved them.
I'm sorry no one stood up for you when you needed it, like how you did for them. He never got the prison sentence he deserved.
He never moved on from you. He knew he could never replace you, and yet he hurt you, and I apologize.
They never reciprocated their feelings, even after you poured your heart into them.

I'm sorry that you recognized their footsteps and had to live in fear.
They didn't fight for you when you needed it, but blamed you, and for that, I'm sorry.
They told you that you were the "troublemaker" and the "angry daughter", but why were you angry?
I'm sorry that they crushed your dreams, Dreamer.

I'm sorry that you had to leave.
I'm sorry that they talked about you behind your back, insulting your name.
They destroyed everything you've ever touched and spread nasty lies about you.
I'm sorry that they altered the truth, the same truth you wished people had heard.

I'm sorry that they had tried to crush the hope and heartbeat of a child.
They turned your blazing fire into a simmering ash, and it was almost fully diminished.
But you kept it burning nonetheless, and you kept dreaming.
So though I am sorry that I wasn't always there, I was always hopeful.
Keep dreaming, My Dreamer.

Best Regards,
You <3
this is my 131st poem, written on 11/15/24
Our scent of
Nostalgia
Would be a
Best seller
Let's
Get a degree
In chemistry
And craft
A masterpiece
What's your favorite?
PERTINAX Nov 7
Spinning, out of control,
I can see the bottom
Gnarly hands dripping sinew
Grasping at my feet
Eager for me to join
Their twisted feast
Where hunger is not the mode
To satiate the emptiness
But a bitter thirst
To quench the infernal fires
That fed fuel to their burning desire
For me to join them in the abyss
Of loneliness built atop bones of pleasure
Piled up high with lost souls
Who were too weak to look up
And see the sky where birds fly
Or the trees and their lovely greens
A beautiful scene of all the things
Which will be left behind
If I continue to hide and not seek
The wonderful world beyond the drink

So, up I climb
Never to look back
Into the deep
I'm lighting up a candle

For the person you

Once was

. . .

Because right now

It seems you have killed him

And all that's left were memories
Dianali Nov 4
The symptoms included:
Chest tightness, nauseas
Laboured breathing, heavy heart.
They say it’s a natural reaction
—I must be allergic—

To

     Bitter memories and regrets.
Treatment is letting go
Madeon Nov 2
I lost my shadow
In the city’s reflection

My past became a willow
That grew up to the moon
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