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Kitt Oct 7
I love with a dangerous, reckless abandon
Fire and no hint of shame
Occasionally with a lover in tandem
I’ll be laughing and crying the same
I fall in and out, seeming at random
And play at love like a game

She, however— quite the contrary—
Travels so slowly she’s almost inert
She approaches my cavern, ever so wary
Afraid that, again she’ll be hurt
Time is her friend, the yellow canary
If it falls silent; she’ll up and desert
Anais Vionet Jul 30
I’m FaceTiming with my Grandmère, we touch-base once a week. I love that face, wrinkled, like wind-weathered driftwood, and she’s a wag.
“Are you familiar with the ECB?” She asks.

I wince at this odd turn in conversation, “Not REALLY,” I say, searching my mental index of useless facts and cross-matching those with her interests, “the European Central Bank?” I reply. “Oui.” she says.

“Let’s see,” I begin in a bored voice, “Inflation – transitory or persistent?” I say, in my best TV news-reader voice. “No,” I chuckle, “Not really, I have REAL, boring-things I’m learning about.”

“You’ll need to - one day,” she says, like a tarot reading oracle.

“I can’t imagine why.” I said.

“I’m writing a few sentences about you!” I interject, to both change the subject and see what she says. She’s the only one in the family who knows I write.

“Oh,” she sighs, “Am I young, immoral and reckless?”

“Yes, you ARE,” I assure her, “you’re the worst.”

“Good," she confides, “I miss those days.”
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Wagish: a wag is a clever person prone to joking - wagish is behaving like a wag.
Julia Feb 5
Sometimes I wish I could just let go
Be reckless
Not worried about what could happen
The what-ifs, the consequences
Just living like it was my last day
As if nothing mattered
If I survived or not wouldn’t be a question
Because at least I would be living
Taking that leap
No anxiety or guilt or fear
Just life
Reckless, fearless worry-free life
Sometimes,
I wish
Man Jun 2021
jubilation

the long, long night
has finally given way
to brightest of days
a sunscape of a sky

superstition is dead
and faux spirituality
they took all the bible thumpers out back
and threw up ropes
as high as their hopes
for what comes after this life

they'll see soon enough

poverty is abolished
and hunger is a problem of the past
they lined up the bankers
they lined up the hedge funders and stock brokers
and let rounds loose
dropping faster
than the market they once manipulated

and the merchants of death
were given what they sold
a tomahawk, a javelin, and an a-bomb to be sure


when we root out the cancer
that has slowly enveloped our domestic landscape,
to lay down fresh soil
to lay down new sod
The past two days were recklessly engorged with alcohol.
Intoxication has become habitual. Each weekend, drowning one's self in an illusion of joy and folly; The jester entertaining not Kings nor Queens, but the ****, the weak, to deceive the empty crowd in my mind that I matter to someone. But matter is fleeting and we, myself and the abyss, understand the plight of today; waking up to nothing-- the empty abyss for which I am well acquainted with. Simply put, I am revisiting my old home from a not so distant past. The only difference between then and now is the relentless bottoms of empty glasses and a false sense of security and composure.
1 page of my thoughts a day to prevent my head from exploding!
Mark Toney May 2021
sly masked marauder
recklessly raucous raccoon
~ the final frontier






Mark Toney © 2021
Poetry form: Haiku - I posted this haiku on Instagram with the image of a raccoon in a spacesuit spacewalking in orbit over the Earth.  You heard me right the first time! :) - Mark Toney © 2021
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