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SpiritHeart67 Jul 20
If we are to take
full responsibility
for all of our
and actions
then that means
that the things
that we do
stand alone,
in and of

It doesn't matter who did what
what was happening
around us,
in the moment.
When we are
truly responsible
and accountable,
we do not look
to others actions
or choices
as an excuse
to justify our own.

To accept
is to take
for our own Choices,
first and foremost.

Don't expect
your neighbor
to pick his
dogs **** up
off your lawn
when you
are knee deep
in the horse
you just dumped
in his front yard.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 28
In the mist of late night solitude,
                 from a mislaid plateau,
                 with a suitcase full of sparks

She observes constellations
        reflected as little needy eyes,
                        peering down at her

They could be midnight directives,
       postcards from distant nebula
                            suspended in gaffa

       "Ne t'enfuis pas..." She exhales

Still she wonders:

        will her children grow to love
          their perfect machines more
                                    than they love
                  their imperfect mother?

"Ne t'enfuis pas" is a French phrase which means "don't run away"
I send my roots into the earth,
accepting the sacred duty.
The gentle, yielding, firm,
and fertile ground of the mother.
I will water her.
I will protect her.
I accept responsibility
for this ground.
I yield to this process.
Enveloped by life. By time.
I yield to the watching.
I accept what it brings.
I choose to love
what comes before me,
so that what blooms
when I wither away,
may always be love.
Fudz Lana Nov 2022
at the end of the day, i stared at the teabag
that i scooped out from the ***.
wet and sloshy, its scent faded and sweetened;
it wasn't itself anymore.

without its lingering bitterness
without its verdant hues,
or its unique aromas that they fancied,
it could never be who it was.  

the used teabag, now that its purpose was served,
is no longer wanted.
was it fulfilled by the amount of tea it gives,
or was it emptied?
Mark Toney Oct 2022
lack of future preparation - inherit debris fields of neglect

Mark Toney © 2022
Poetry form: Monoku - Mark Toney © 2022. All rights reserved.
Self pleasure is the definition of the Devil.
We must strike a happy medium,
for the soul is Christ yet the body is sin.

Life, a battle of what lies within.
I, myself, struggle yet seek holy kin.

Promise me virtue,
tomorrow you’ll forget.
Mold form, for my design is ****!

Edit the author, punish the script.
Fight the altar, praise the stripped.
Religious figures are but avatars of human virtues.
Anais Vionet Sep 2022
When the sun sets, flecking clouds with diaphanous light and birds whistle daytime’s last summer psalms, we call it night.

We’re moonbathing and Sunny’s features are inlaid with glamorous silver-blue patines. We’ll reawaken soon, our time is measured in assignments, not in hours, days or even seasons.

Responsibility is a villain of our own devices. You can run from it, bolt your door against it, only to find it’s right there - in back of you - smiling like a tiger or a parent.

Unfortunately, the university isn’t a hotel. It’s more of a competition, like those survivor shows.

We’ll enjoy the moonlight, for a few, laconic moments, for it seems to possess a sweet power to cool and calm, but soon our purposes will call, irresistibly, and we’ll return to the performance.
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: laconic: brief to the point of seeming rude.
Kelly Mistry Aug 2022
Interlocking concepts
But rarely as simple
                                     as cause and effect

We always have a choice
To act
           To react
                          To endure
                                             To survive

Choice is a source of power
It can’t be taken away by another

Don’t believe them when they say
“You have no choice”
Even if they
are you

But our choices alone
                                       are rarely the only cause
                                                           ­                        of our circumstances

Other peoples’ choices
The systems we must navigate
Our environments and ecosystems, human-built and beyond
All contribute to determine
                                                  the fertility of the soil
                                                                ­                         from which our range of choices grow

In fertile soil
Choices abound

But even in barren soil
You still must choose
To act
To react
To endure
To survive
While holding onto hope
                                              for future change

Through intention
Through community
Through action

To believe that your choices alone
Are responsible for an outcome
Whether fortunate
Or dire

Is the height of arrogance
Born of a need to feel in control
Of the world around you

We all should be held accountable for our choices
But take care
How you parcel out responsibility
                                                              an­d blame

To yourself
To others
With awareness of the state of the soil
                                                                ­     from which those choices grew
Give me the sea and I'll drink it
all of it
Give me the sky and I'll blot it out
cut it out
leave the gaping earth barren of its liquid dressing
and leave the sky naked of its blue face
there is no compare
that is
not to say you are not enough for me
not at all
it is to say you are more than I could have desired
than I could have dreamed
and I do not tire of you
not in my darkest moments
when I'm stretched thin
and there is no longer
a devil-may-care draped about my addled mind
when my patience snaps
when my jaw clamps
my eyes droop
my brain thumps against my skull
not even then
with the last vestiges of civility held in grasp
not even then can I think to lash out at you
not even when you poke
or ****
plod about my sensibilities
maim my sensitivities
not even then
not even when you roll your eyes
give me that long 'hmmmm - really...'
I don't give in to the nagging,
nigh satisfying itch to shake with rage
and curse everything that stems from the womb
I am cool as a cucumber
placid as a windless lake
I roll my shoulders
flutter my eyelashes
look you up and down
'My... my... tired aren't you?'
Your shoulders slump
Your efforts to topple me abate
You nod your head
curl up on my lap
isn't it
how comforted we become
when we are offered solace
in exchange for an argument
that neither of us
would win?
The first line came to me and I thought it was so funny.
So I wrote out a poem for it and I hope you like it as much as I did writing it.


Mrs Timetable Jun 2022
In my dreams
I try
To make you
Holding you
In my
Small hand
They may be small but they hold a lot
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