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Carlo C Gomez Jan 22
~
Are we all the same distance apart?
Are we nocturnal
because we buy into
rhythmic disturbance,
trying to find a memory
in a dark room?

In shadow of advancing myth,
there's evidence of hunters
in the glowlight,
with wings outstretched,
solitary and contrite,
we cut the night,
we cut the night.

From sticks to bitterness,
we cut the night,
we cut the night.

~
Jeremy Betts Jan 16
"You're not a lot of fun to be around" she blurted
Not the first time I've heard it
I went
From being bullied to being A bully, was never meant to be permanent
You can probably guess what temperament brought more enjoyment?
So there's a solid argument to be had for it being a just verdict
But if you've never been in that predicament hold your judgmental hyperbolic rhetoric
Most folks seek out that kind of empowerment but keep it quiet, I'm just admitting it
Look, nobody's perfect but the crime has never fit my punishment
Pushed and shoved "getting back to the old me" to the back burner, against my better judgement
Cause I didn't bother with it any further, now a derelict social misfit
Then when it's my turn to take back the moment
My retort, a one and done statement;
Fck you, fck the planet and fck everyone on it
Easier to parrot that then to admit no one can stand me past the first minute
I don't know if it's the misplacement of hurt and anger, a cover for inadequate social alignment
Or a relentless deep seeded resentment for the general public
Not sure but it definitely feels organic
This old dog ain't capable of learning a new trick regardless of any enlightenment
Kinda sad isn't it?

©2024
Jellyfish Oct 2023
Part of me wants to scream these words from a high place and hear then echo back; "I'm sorry!"

I'd pretend every person from my past was shouting it back to me and maybe then I'd actually be able to let it all go.

I could stand up straight and look others in the eye without having to wonder about their every lie.

I'd never have to hear my sister tell me I need to forgive again. I could say to her face
"I already have"

That would make me feel so happy and full, to know she can no longer say to herself "my sister is a fool."
Pagan Paul Aug 2023
Have you noticed they are at it again?
Idiocy, insults, back biting and *******.
Infancy in a petulant mood shouting
'cant cook, won't cook, shan't cook'.

And the recipe :-

Take one ex-minister (slightly embittered).
Fold through with a poison pen (neither retractable nor redactable).
Add a pinch or two of smouldering resentment.
Allow to stew and ferment for about 12 weeks.
Then warm through with  an almond glaze of scorn
and liberally spread over several pages of resignation.
Finally wrap in a filou of vellum, and seal.

An ideal meal if you feel that your line manager
really needs a punch filled packed lunch.
And don't forget to garnish and serve with leaks
to the press and media.
Enjoy your meal Prime Minister!

Warning: This recipe contains home truths, scathing criticism,
ambition, nuts, betrayal, regret and crocodile tears.
Ref: Nadine Dorries who finally got around to resigning from the govt. after saying she would many weeks ago. Her resignation letter is scathing of her Tory colleagues and the PM, with a few hometruths being flung at them from her. Its refreshing to hear a politician say the truth, even if born from spite and resentment.
Man Jun 2023
Should have known,
The only one, trying for years.
That giving all of myself
To someone who is empty
Will only render me,
Similarly.
Rosie Dec 2022
Dad
I don't know if I deserve to be sad that you died
It feels like I didn't earn it
Like if I'm sad I'm pretending for attention
I don't know if we were close enough
I don't think I texted you back enough
or respected you enough

After so many years of resentment I don't know if I get to love you
It doesn't feel like my loss.
It feels like my siblings lost their dad
And my mom lost her husband
And I'm so sad for my family
but it doesn't feel like my father died.

Everyone tells me that you were a good person
And I believe them
But I don't think I thought so when you were still here
And now we share the same sins
It's the first thing we've had in common

When I was writing your eulogy it felt like I was writing a paper
It was like I was writing it for someone else
Someone who knew their dad
Someone who liked their dad
Someone who was liked by their dad.

The only thing we understood about each other was the bad parts
Because we recognized them.
And neither of us liked either of us.
If you were such a bad person I think I am too
The passive aggressiveness
The drinking to be likeable
The sneakiness
The lust
The pride
My personality is like mom's but my vices are from you.

I don't think we were so distant because we didn't understand each other
I think we disliked each other because we understood each other perfectly.
i arrived
early enough
to be comfortable
in my seat as
the patient and
impatient alike
shuffled the aisle
negotiating the overflow
of flaring elbows
protruding feet
and cumbersome torsos
a waltz of
dismissive apology
their only hope
to find their place
without inconvenience
yet with little interest
in whether they might
inconvenience
other passengers
along the way

watching
as a man
recently evicted
from the seat
he had evidently
not booked
surveys the nearby
empty spaces
his mind churning
an internal gamble
of which one
might promise
the longer period
   of peace
before the rightful
owner arrives
he knows
he will need
to relocate
once more before
his journey's end
at some point
unknown to him
but predetermined
nonetheless
despite this
he settles down
in a seat marked
"reserved"
and closes
his eyes
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