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Odd Odyssey Poet Feb 2022
Masterpiece of a passion painted, a lady mistress of
her fairest dame; So gentle of heart, and a love
all to wish acquainted; In the trends of oldest fashion,

Of her bright eyes of angelic fire, gliding, whereupon
two stars are dancing; Man takes hand to a leading
guide; His soul and eyes stolen— As amazement was
what he found; For by God, you are His art piece created,

Yet so disturbing to my mind, as words to express have
me so defeated; Worthy it is, speaking of you, tastes like
treasure.
Eyla Jan 2022
strange,
feels strange,
as if it was stored somewhere,
as if, it was things
that I can hold,
but, I,
lost it,
the memories,
thought I can hold it
forever,
yet, I lost it
it walks away,
followed you,
leaving.
Ally Ann Jan 2022
The water makes me forget,
yet I remember
the waves lapping on sand,
except we haven’t had enough rain
in years for the lake to reach the shore,
this is my favorite place
but it feels just as tired as I do,
living up to expectations of the past
barely meeting requirements of placehood.
I’ve lost the special that once consumed me
dilapidated buildings and broken promises
link the memories between
place and person
deterioration reminding me
that I am not the only thing
searching for peace
and finding loss in its place.
Wilkes Arnold Nov 2021
The radio in my mouth is broken
The tuner slides from the channel
It's set
And I'm forced to listen
To others words
In rhythms I hate

The radio in my mouth is broken
The sound is full of noise
And its volume jumps
At the worst times
When I can't speak
Over it

The radio in my mouth is broken
The power button is difficult
And dramatic
It fails in good company
When I need it most
And surges to life
Late at night

So I listen to the songs it plays
To no one but myself
Words and melodies
Wriggle through clenched teeth
While I stare at the ceiling

The radio in my mouth is broken
So I look at others
And they at me
As we listen
Together
To what it plays
nick armbrister Nov 2021
Eddy, Bank Robber
When I worked in Park Cake Bakery there was an interesting guy I worked with. His name was Eddy. Now Eddy had a very sharp mind, was an alpha male and had several scars on his face from old fights. It wasn’t his cake making or scars that got our attention; it was his professional criminal past. He was a bank robber who used guns to do it. They’d gone to a bank and made a withdrawal in the coolest way.

“Give us the cash or we’ll plug you! Fill up the bags. Used notes only.” The bank staff did as told just like in a gangster film.

And that was that. They had the cash and would’ve been best investing it in bricks and mortar Brink’s-Mat robbery style. The cops caught them later and he got serious jail time. Upon release he worked in the bakery. The guy who ran the work agency gave him a job as he was an ex copper and wanted to let Eddy have a chance going straight. And straight he went being a good worker.

Eddy’s first words to me were: “Hey mate, do I know you? From jail?”

I knew I had to be careful with this one, paranoia, sharp mind and he looked quite handy. I replied, “You know me now mate! How are you doing?”

We got on very well. Eddy told me some stories after one of the other lads, who was also quite handy but on a lower level told me of Eddy’s past. “He robs banks.”

I asked Eddy on this and he asked me who told me. I said one of the lads but I don’t want you hurting him. He was fine. I said I knew a bank robber when I was in the south before. They’re what I call alternative businessmen. They rob a bank and don’t have to be wage slaves. They know the risks and the cash is actually insured so is paid back to the bank.

There was in issue with a young Pakistani lad. Words were said as Eddy was close to a very pretty Asian lady who the lad also liked. There was a bit of pushing and shoving in the cake storage area. Later both said sorry and shook on it.

Eddy came back to work as he was fired due to an incident. This led to another display of his temper. He had a pal who had a Queen’s crown neck tattoo. They both had a row. They were ten or twenty yards apart and such was Eddy’s word that his mate took a step back! This was after he argued with the bakery manager, a woman who was like a bloke. She took it and gave it back.

Time moved on and I left the bakery. I worked briefly in Littlewoods in Shaw. And who did I see there? Eddy! My opening words to him were: “Where’s my guinea pig?”

It was cool to see Eddy there. I missed him. We chatted and I told him of the incident I saw with his pal. He said did I see it and I replied I did, all of it. It was funny looking back but Eddy could’ve hurt his pal seriously. I’m glad he didn’t.

We worked in the warehouse picking and packing orders. There was another incident with a young Pakistani guy again. Words were said and Eddy gripped him and let’s say told him off. The Pakistani reported the ex armed robber to the supervisors. The two were separated on different floors. Eddy went to the guy’s work area and ‘told him’ off again! The guy never said a bad word to Eddy ever again.

Eddy told me his dad owned a pub near where I used to live. He dad was a big fan of both Numan and Bowie, the superb 80s singers. His dad liked both the same not one over the other.

I wish I’d have spent more time talking to Eddy as he was the real deal. We civilians don’t get to meet real life gangsters very often, part of the underworld. I’m not talking about stealing cars or shop lifting. Eddy was the real deal. If he robs more banks I want him to remain free. I hope he’s fine and healthy right now. Did you know he also had an A Level in art? He was quite a guy.

Carl D'Souza Oct 2021
In an ideal
joy-and-happiness-society,
would every person
humanely
care for
their own feelings
and the feelings
of every person
in their society?
Zack Ripley Aug 2021
I'm someone.
You're someone too.
Even if you're broken.
Because if a broken crayon can still color,
and a broken clock can still be right,
a broken person is still a person.
You just have to find your way
out of the darkness and into the light
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