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Neville Johnson Nov 2016
Hey, old friend, how've you been?
Can you believe the news?
Politics is amazing
How we choose our leaders
Sorting through the rhetoric and slime
You just shake your head in amazement and derision
Then head off to bed
Everything will be fine

We think we've seen it all before
But no, not like this
But, what the hell, we will weather this storm
Smile and shake a fist
Let's all work together
Make this a better day
Have this common goal
For come what may
We'll always be friends
Commiserate

Like now, as life goes on
As together we race through time
We can still smile, not lose our resolve
Everything is gonna be fine
Joshua Penrod Sep 2016
No battle is won by merely one man
It is won in the blood stained garments of many
It is not dictated by the resolve in his final stand
But the impact of the burden carried by all, on every step of the journey

“Battles”-JP
Marya123 Sep 2016
He did not want it.
So he tells me.
He simply did what he could
A simple gift by Lady Fate
So he says, sheepishly.
He shrugs in nonchalance
Graceless in his apathy
Yet he is given the reward.
Why is that so, Destiny?
Why do you keep me searching for you?
Why do you smirk
As I am blinded and deafened in my pursuit for the light
Some clarity, an opportunity?
And you throw it in my face?
I could so easily be mad at you
I could so easily wail in agony
I could so easily grit my teeth and curse your existence
I could so easily abandon any pretence of control
Yet I do not.
I dare not vocalise these petty thoughts
I dare not challenge you, for I am at your every whim
But you cannot stop me from asking
You cannot prevent me from questioning
Why him, why not me?
What did he do so much better than I?
As he fakes illness and emotion
As he swaggers around in brilliant obnoxiousness
What is that one talent that I am without?
Must I lay my hands at your feet?
Must I praise your questionable presence?
Must I abuse and disregard you for some show of mercy?
They say one must wait
They say ‘Be patient, every dog has its day’
Then what am I?
A miserable dead unworthy hybrid
A perverse creation that ought not to exist
That it is not given a part in even one proverb in innumerable?
You desire that I let it get to me
You desire that I grow more impatient than usual
You ****** things away from reach so I sigh in resignation, as you laugh
Cruelly, in mockery of my fumbling limbs.
But I smile
I keep the thoughts in a little box sealed away
I gather every ounce of sincerity and joy
I collect my courage, I move my muscles
Enough to speak, to type, to send, to wish
To the blessed child of good fortune
‘Congratulations’.
Otherwise known as 'Karma, thou art a heartless *****.'
Dawn of Lighten Sep 2016
Ambient voices lurk upon the tip of the ears,
As the ruffling of the leaves become faint and dull!

Shaken by those voices clamor your essense to a vilified characters,
And those sound intensified by the roaring thunder they seem to pound like war drums.

As the heavens shed it's tears to calm all senses to a full moon,
One can only indulge in the simple act of nature to light sound of rain drops to sleep.

Do we become the persona others echo,
And does one escape to runaway from energy of darkness?

It is a destined war to meet the oppositioned in battlefield,
And then you ask yourself if you are the truthful conviction of good?

The innocence isn't so much the victor of the scenario,
But the reflective nature to do the right things.

Those loud voices spilled the vile tongue of characters uncleansed,
And the dirt seem to gravitate the bubble you once protected your essense.

You try to rub off the dead skin that sicken your persona,
But seemed fatal attraction and unwelcomed maul of voices protrude.

Tremored hands can't seem to stop,
But the heart had seized it's pulse,
And looked to the self in the mirror no more.

Gasp to get some air in the drowning ocean,
As the weight of the back become stronger,
And reach out the arm to brace upon the nearest shore.

Everything must stay silent,
And then ask am I good enough?

The eternal struggle to find the person on the lake is a journey,
But one can't runaway forever from their own shadow,
Because the shadow will follow you for good.

Once you realize the reflection is your's
It is too silly to have ever feared it.
When voices tell you that you are no good, one must stop hiding from their personal shell to see the wonders of the world
Gaius Normanyo Sep 2016
I once wondered if I would ever have a Bryson Tiller moment...
That “I'm back and I'm better" vibe.
In hindsight, I think, “Wait, I've woken up every morning, right?
Shouldn't I start by thanking God that I'm even alive?"

“Tomorrow never comes", some say.
“Live everyday like it's your last."
Well I agree that we live in today,
But I will not let my future regret its past.

Take every mistake, every moment you wish that was not,
And look at it in a different light.
If you had not walked down that path
You could have suffered a more dangerous plight.

At times its the decisions we don't make that matter most,
For they shape what could have been.
What's more important is whether what was not
Would have been a blessing or a sin.
11:59 PM, 9/4/16 - 1:16 AM, 9/5/16
Maybe I have been dancing to “Don't" on replay way too much today.
Maybe I watched X-Men: Days of Future Past too.
Who knows?
Becky Jo Gibson Aug 2016
Flooding waters came as the rain fell on my tent.
It happened so fast I was not able to get out.
Surrounded by water, I watch my friend dig a trench.
I feel so powerlessness it fills me with doubt.

Wondering what I am doing back here in the riverbed.
Before the rain I was happy to have a home and felt good.
It's morning now and I'm grateful I'm not dead.
What was beauty is now ugly, barren, wet, crude.

I wonder if the rain is done with it's showers of despair.
This storm took more from me than material things.
My desperate spirit is also in need of repair.
Time to get up and see what another homeless day brings.
Becky Jo Gibson Aug 2016
My struggle to actually leave, mind, body and soul
Has blurred the lines between real and desire
My absolute need to walk away whole
All muddied up consumed by your fire
It is easier to sit back and dream, ever loyal
I am very comfortable in this risk free zone
Waiting for you to leave your contaminated soil
Praying you come with me and make a home
Hope, faith and visions, all tools I use to stay right here
Today my gut is reminding me I'm living an illusion
Nothing I do, see or know today is clear
I am stuck in self inflicted mass confusion
Do you feel anything I send in to spark feeling?
Are you at all open to getting to know me
Do my words reach, comfort, touch or send you reeling
Pushing you further away and feeling the need to flee
I apologize for drawing you into my ego everyday
My desperation must be so hard to endure
I don't like not getting the things I want or my way
You cutting me off, if you so desire will end this for sure
So I must send this as my last poem you will read
Putting you down as my pen writes the final line
I remember now your words I will heed
"I can't feel what I don't feel", please stay gone, I will be fine

Becky Jo Gibson
Becky Jo Gibson Aug 2016
Apology Not Accepted

Last meal, last drink, last walk, last breath.
This is real and I am content with this end.
For taking her life I am sentenced to death.
Perhaps this will help her children mend.

So long ago yet I still recall every detail.
I know what day it was and the time on the clock.
I was following the tracks determined to ride the rails.
The woman said she was just taking a walk.

I remember her eyes were bloodshot and wet.
I expressed concern for the bruises present.
Her head spun to face me, her eyes heated and set.
She scolded me for speaking of something so unpleasant.

Her body became tense and then relaxed completely.
She stared at the tracks as the train came into view.
Her eyes softened and she turned to me smiling sweetly.
She apologized and asked that I forgive what she was about to do.

Confused I asked why she was asking me to forgive her.
She laughed, said for the image sure to stay in your mind.
My eyes met hers and I felt something inside me stir.
She thanked me for being so concerned and kind.

As she turned her hands came together in prayer.
Seconds later she stepped in front of the train.
Stunned all I could do was stand there and stare.
Her body ripped apart and blood fell like rain.

A witness said I pushed her into the train's path.
The distance between us prevented a different end.
If I could have reached her I would have known her wrath.
However to remove the image left in me I pretend.

I spoke only on the moments leading up to the witnesses lie.
My life was empty and I was craving a way to get away from me.
This is a relief from the images implanted in my minds eye.
I am not guilty of killing her yet I welcome the end of eyes that see.

Becky Jo Gibson
Damian Murphy Jul 2016
If I had given up along the way
No way would I be where I am today.
Though reaching our goals can at times be tough,
To get where we want...we must want it enough.
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