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Jack Groundhog Oct 2024
A dark clay raven hung at a windowpane
to ward off bright songbirds from glass.
It never spoke a word, nor did it feign
to know of a departed late lass.

I asked it my questions, expecting more
conversation than it had on offer,
but plainly it found me a tedious bore
for it stayed quiet. Not much of a talker.

The brief encounter left me po-faced
as I’d been led to expect more from him.
So I turned away, belying a trace
of disappointment weighing within.

Then I heard the wind, and nothing much else
except the song of birds who’d survived
thanks to the clay raven who hung by a belt
in front of a window to keep it disguised.
Inspired by an old-fashioned clay raven that hung in front of a window in Mainz Old Town to prevent birdstrike. Having a bit of fun, too.
Jack Groundhog Oct 2024
The moon rose up
and the moon looked down
She’s watched the Earth
spin round and round

And kingdoms rose
and empires fell
The moon just waxed
and waned a spell

Her one bright eye
has seen it all —
she’ll still be there
long after we fall
Gus Oct 2024
Achy bones like brittle tree bark
Stretching skin ripping like paper
Numb tendons lagging behind
Emotions mixed like soup on a cold day
Confused in finding a footing
Changes etched in aging eyes
Renewed perspective aching with stretching numbness
Growing up means experiencing new Pains.
Pierce Samuel Sep 2024
The darkness of my own kind shoots daggers through my soul
Their eyes with the last flicker of light leave my saddened thought
How could one akin to me have a heart as black as coal?
The string of fate the ones different they have fought

Even with similar address, together not alike
Different to another, both disbanding
Never did anything except teach how to fight
Similar from another, neither understanding
A poem I wrote about misogyny I have witnessed from the perspective of a trans man
Eleanora Sep 2024
I collect memories like
Grains of sand in my braids

Silken tides usher in new eras
As old ones fall in piles on my floor
Here an epoch, there an age
Unity in treasured obsolescence

Mausoleum of the time I under-loved
It lingers in my bedsheets
Burying the wooden floors
I track through, leaving mislaid
Heartbreaks, scattered days
In castle shapes
They wait

And with the winds of change
The desert flies into my face,
My eyes;
And salt springs forth
It greets the grains again
The ones I thought were boulders
Half a thousand years ago.
Nick Moore Aug 2024
Walking past a window
I see a woman crying
Wondering about all the scenario's
That could have befallen her?
Boyfriend problems?
Financial situation?
Job stress?
Just having one of those days?

I do the only thing
I can
Send her positive thoughts
And carry on with my day

Kate finished chopping and   
Wiped a meaningless
Onion induced tear away
Carrying on with her day
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