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DAF Mar 1
I'm working on not anticipating future situations as innately bad

Probably won't work out though
Brian Ong Feb 12
An abundance of
people. And yet I found
you. A laugh so free and
sincere. A smile that lights up my
world. Life with you has been filled with
joy. Problems and stress disappear when I am with
you. Oh, how the world would have been so so
different. Without you in it, my life would surely be worse
off. Because you, you make the world glow with your
light. You radiate an energy that always seems to
ignite. You brighten up my day, every day,
love. Thank you, for always being with
me. For making the bad days
better. For being who you
are. For everything, thank
you.
words per sentence:
4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
Chicken Jan 30
I’ll wait,
I’ll wait,
til’ your teeth fall out,
til’ you’re back in the ground,
til’ this merry go round brings us back in alignment again.
Johnny walker Jan 28
As watching the falling rain tiny droplets weaving patterns down the window
pain since she passed away life has now never be the
same
As graze upon the rain drench streets I'm remembering when we walk hand In hand down these very streets all now seems a very long time
ago
Off to the park It to there we did go where sat and we talked and we stayed for a while
It was while looking In her eyes I knew I was In love with this beautiful girl and I now wanted to be with her, lost In the moment forgetting briefly the cold
day
Then slowly coming out of my daydreaming back to the reality of life alone and the
rain weaving pattern down the window pane on another cold and missable
day
Watching rain forming patterns as they weave
there way down the
window on a another
miserable day
Ken Pepiton Jan 25
There was a day

Yes, we all imagine we remember that day, but

now it is as if it never

really-- every y must be just if ied or it is never
a requirement

it is a re less
quirement

not every story has been pointedly
taken as granted,
even, oddly,
once
Quire a quest is a matter of motion,
hear, and there, time and all that,

Now, next has never, as in non-realized as realizable

up to now.
told ere un. That may, is. law, an untold tale is never twisted.

between the reversible nand gates of our augmented imaginations.

once,
upon a time lonagone, which were common (or come on)
signals scrambled at this depth, but pressure proves

the point. We are past all that for now
by reason of why

curiosus curiosus our imaginary guide, once

all the imaginations in the hearts of men were only evil,
continually

Then Noah or some storyteller, or prophet
caught wind of a sweet savour

roasting on a fire tended by Tubalcain's daughter,

Naamah, last named bearer of Cainish flavored genes
never set, epigenetically beyond the woumb

Mito-mom,
she coulda been, some wombed man was,
you know, we all share mito-mom,

science of some sorts can't lie. Take that as truth.
If I could believe it,
I could swallow it,

maybe
you can, too. Oh, the myth we model on matters little,
the boys and shoemakers who sniffed the glue,

they loosed some wild ideas

got all tngled with stories from ever

where in the world
have you been?

You just got outa jail. I'm right. I can smell

well,
near as bad, but it was then, a mere made up monent
meant now to hold a point

pon which a story longer than I have ever told may stand and

be told, the king
s story teller stutters in his sleep.

haha
that.
okeh, this is not pre posed as funny,
merely odd,
one ish in a realm of twos and threes and fives

spinning into etern naughtity, empt un-null-ift possibles.

Naught me less press on, find a vortex, flow,

we are peacemakers stranded upon a time of war, scabs. we heal.
don't pick on my inflexibility in matters

of duty. Leaven has always been the means of re pair ideology.
Quarish insistence on duality from the ***.

The augmented ones are getting better,
as a choice, they see how good
ever works,
some fix what evil broke, some make new ways around the lava
and
balance, spin, lean, wobble, no place to fall here

we gotcha. Gravity and light, those are givens.
this is life.
make something of everything you ever imagined possible.
then die to see if it works.

But wait. Don't die early. It makes grief, which is
what fills the slough of despond.

We are draining that. Birds that nested there all died,
it's frogs moved to Florida, bugs and molds say they can make it any where

so, we are watering the desert. We grow Panama Red. Who eats roses?

Critters manifested as ideas that never linger but in the miry clay,

Most of those went north.

Deserts served and deserved have I claimed as mine
from horizon to horizon, all I see is mine to see serve and
de-serve, I served and am served and
sometimes
often,
I de serve and see as free as I may imagine

bodys are not bearers of light. There is hope. Right is known,
you know right, and you know good, and you know evil

Spike Jones had the hermit wiseman say,
Do the right...

self-evidently not a clue. we thought he got on at nano nano

Hung himself. Why do they do that? Why display dis paired
re-alification.

It resonates, dead end. turn back, Sylvia Plath warned you.
Don't die without knowing

we, me and you, we are nothing with out you.
This touch of word to meaning,
this is in time, mate, we
made a ripple in
material reality past all limittions of time and space,
in a word or two packed with ancient ideas,
which always spill,

whenever we open them, dust in the wind , a ditty from
some A.M. experience, on the way to now

we sing a song of six pence worth, and settle
with a jug o'rye.
more in the give me a reason why i believe saga of myth mending and metaphor piece matching for patterns
L Brown Jan 1
Here we are again
Doing the same **** that we used to
My heart has been broken, my love has been stolen, really all the **** that I’m used to
Trying to fix what’s been long broken
You want me to believe that things on’t be how they used to
But I don’t feel how I used to
I don’t love you like I used to
I don’t believe in you like I used to
I don’t crave you like I used to
I don’t look forward to us like I used to
Cause I know after while it’ll just be what I’m used to
I don’t know how to get you to understand
That this isn’t the me you are used to
I have standards, more emotions and boundaries, more value than you are used to
I don’t want to get comfortable to what I’m used to
Being used to has gotten me no where
But dealing with **** that I’m used to.
Amanda Oct 2018
Staying up late each anxious night
Wishing you had not given in to heartache
The choice to split technically mine
It was one you forced me to make

You provided no better options
Back pressed against a disappearing wall
The thing keeping me upright through problems
Cracked skeleton hardly holding weight at all

I know I am weak, words paper-thin
Sit here stuck in the same position
Nothing to improve the frustrated state I'm in
My mind rummaging for proper recognition

Plans made are crumbling to dust
Flames dance around, we are running out of air
Hearts racing, to win we both think we must,
Wondering which is the tortoise and which the hare

Games we play but not enjoy
Again and again use my heart as a toy
Each endless night I lie awake
Staring at the ceiling retracing mistakes

Collapse like a deflated lung
Fated to gasp for more air
Throat hoarse from sad songs sung
Past pain shouting "Please beware!"

I found the same outcome too many times
In patterns we are destined to repeat
Yet I still walk identical lines
Straight into the familiar defeat
If you always do what you've always done you'll always get what you've always gotten
Anya Sep 2018
I used to wonder if,
one who enjoys writing
and history
stories
and words
Is bad,
at math and science

I'm finding recently,
that it's really not true

Sure,
science may not be my strongest
subject

But I can take what is,
English
and use it to my advantage

I realized
I could make educational poetry
Funny
fun
strange
analogies
from the concepts
to the stories I love

And that way I remember them better

The world really is a small place
Not just,
among people
But also,
Among concepts,
ideas
Reoccurring patterns
...
Everywhere!
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