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Odd Odyssey Poet Nov 2021
Lift my eyes inside my skull'
Searching for the words I;
Can quickly pen down:
Write a Poetic piece,
And for a moment feel proud.
George Cheese Oct 2021
we are back here again,
offering up prayers to the patron saint of lost things.

we are haunted by eidolons of past states,
snapshots of perfect moments,
lingering phantom pain.

the monument is
swept away by an ocean
of time and desire,

lost to the seabed
and laid to rest.
Steve Page Sep 2021
Place the pen on the page before inspiration hits – that’s important.  You write – that’s what you do.  
And as the pen moves, a combination of memory and new ideas combine, they interact with the catalyst called inspiration and you’ll find that the further the process is allowed to progress, the more the New takes hold and memory drops to a whisper and before your mind can comprehend the words, you find an unexpected theme.  This time it’s about the evil of memory and how it needs to be subdued / reduced, put in its rightful place so that the New can breathe / can grow / create a new memory that will one day abdicate space to the next generation of New.  
One day we might find there’s no heir, no one who cares enough to continue the line, but until that day we’ll have generation after generation of New - each slowly growing old, gradually fading thin and becoming a memory that knows its space and gives way.
I pause.
That’s always a mistake.  
To Pause.  
That’s when memory sneaks back in, raising itself above its whisper, giving pause to the New and raising an appetite for a brew which lifts the pen…
Is blueberry jam on madeira cake wrong?
Listening to Poetry Extra on BBC Sounds.  Inspired by William Stafford.
basil Aug 2021
i get over things
right away. i'll never get
over anything
processing things is a ******* roller coaster and i just wanna get off this ride. rip.

08.16.2021
Graff1980 Jul 2021
I will get small sparks
for little parts
of playful verses
throughout the day,
then type and save
them to my phone.
Eventually, working them
into to something by the end
of the night,

but if I don't have
any inspiration by evening's end,
I will play some instrumental music
I haven't listened to yet,
look at paintings online,
and read some poetry
from Tumblr till something hits.
stillhuman May 2021
I have never seen darkness
like yours
So palpable
Menacing
Terrorizing me
hauling my choice
to ever forgive it

It felt like a knife
inches away
breathing on my neck
cold like the dead
that never said goodbye

I had to fight it
stand rightous to its madness
keep it contained
like blood spilling
from my hands cupped
trying so hard
to just
save it

And I won
or i thought i did
but the darkness remained
still kept me hostage
behind your back
you didn't notice
you didn't see it
the bruise from impact
the apathy covering
hiding sheltering
the obnoxious selfish heaving
of my trapped naked self
shivering
enveloped by darkness
The one that almost took your life
The one that ruined our night
that still holds me tight
as i try to survive
and it was never your fault, it never was
neth jones May 2021
..............there’s such a clamour
         so much choring
    memory thread
I sit
armchair
rocking head
receiver of motion
    bleaker of putty trauma
                creator of mammary craving

.....best take up knitting or wood carving

the fortress of thought
(in strict connivance with a bewildered host)
compiles the 'person idea'
protects the fragile calculator
               from biting at its own exposed
                  and useless self mating psychology
               from glutting on its own tail 
                   and merry going mad
                        in a tune of hoops...

..stammering to achieve valuation

for our decent management
projector
may you continue operations falser still
defeating our own polygraphs and making fools of our internal courtrooms

i sit on this chair
things go still
thoughts occur elsewhere
am i left to not be ?....................
[no rocking horse
conveyer belt
tank tread
rock rearward and forth
the thinker and the head]
stephannie Apr 2021
she stares at her reflection on the mirror
drunk in eudaimonia, she sways to the beat
there she has it, what others try to fight for
there she has it, what the hopeless badly needs

letting the song blast, she leans against the wall
eyes twinkling as hard as the stars in the sky
to both of her cheeks, a strawberry curve falls
cause in loving herself, she's found her own fire

regardless of who was there to hear, she cried
in happiness, in faith, in hope, and in love
regardless of who was there to see, she strived
with soul, with grit, with the freedom of a dove

and though there are scars that would never heal
she'll live and love to see what the world reveals
written 7 years after 'ruined'
Simon Mar 2021
A cancellation of something, is (generally speaking) progress to enlightenment, because it's meant to "congress" the very supposedly different features that literally...
SCREAMS OUT OF CONTROL!
(But only, when something doesn't officially go its own way).
However, in time, things do get better.
Because they must!
It's just simply...HAST TOO!
After all, it's a very "primal" influential (on a need-to-know basis), before something truthfully "triggers" the very (notion of surprise) in the "generalized" form...that is a natural part of life that stems from the very pit in one's own gut.
Then at which time SCREAMS back in response, (from the very first response that triggered its very own local message).
BREAKING the very so-called "alignment" (when evolving yourself directly straight-out from under the control of your very own still processing learning curb), that keeps you (too "rooted" in your very own self) from that very essential...cancellation itself.
But alas, things aren't as focused (as they once were...) Now aren't they...?
That's entirely against the point of "truer" interests that begin too BASH one another over such silly "squabbles".
Something that truly masks the very freedom of what was (once out of control)! That is now breathing in this very newer *** of fresh air.
This very newer *** of fresh air is a little "musty". And could become HEAVILY influenced, because of its very own odor type smell...it truly gives off....
But that's only because things have been stashed away and broken down and covered up for far too long.
Meaningfully, making it the obvious result of the very cancellation holding you back from simply moving forward with a very "progression for enlightenment" itself.
Simply put, once you let go of the too many "attachments" that have been stringing you along in such a predictable simulation for an incredibly (sort of "dire" need) to become this WIDENED long-drawn-out frame of time...
That's what starts to truly speculate its very own nature.
Also, when things start to take a turn for the "interesting kind".
Basically, your no different from anyone else.
However, that doesn't mean your own "sense of liberty" (in your very self) doesn't become prey to even truer mindsets...that'd have you "scrambling" out of sync with what truly matters in your very ("hour of need").
Progress at the ending type of spectrum for enlightenment, is the such "divinity" of one's own (preciously "engaged") sufferable type of "repressed" comings and goings (among the very goings on), that then (in the very truest sense of the word) limit your actions to such "formidable...consequences."
Either way, a cancellation such as this, will harbor the very "harbinger"...that is the "progress of enlightenment" itself!
Things tend to mix and match the very severity of many varieties and priorities in one single shot when becoming witnessed to such guesswork that randomly pokes and prods the very air you breath in...and then exhale outward...into the very fabrication of your very own "self-acknowledgement".
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