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Ashok Manikoth Jul 2020
Many a time in subtle and other ways nature tried to warn us.
Spewing fire from mountain tops flooding the land, water rising in high waves from the ***** of the ocean.
Black plague it sent now a tiny virus.
Not a lesson have we learnt not a line understood.
While building tower of babel, it is said misunderstanding was sown in our midst, to stop us from our task.
We still build tower's that touch the clouds and dig deeper than the deepest valley.
Forgetting that simple living is the best.
Want not more than your hand can hold,
a bed to sleep a roof to protect from the cold, it was ment to be thus.
Greed and false pride got us here forgetting that all we need is 6 feet of space our final resting place.
McKenzie I Apr 2020
One by one the lights go off,
Slowly burning to black,
The kitchen stove, red with heat,
Stills to a cool whisper,
Before the daylight finishes,
It charms us one last time,
Oranges and plums twist into midnight,
The birds stop chirping,
Their chatter sways to silence as the moon takes its place,
Kids close their eyes,
Leaving another day’s mysteries unlocked,
Phones on top of couches quit buzzing,
Cars’ beaming headlights become fewer,
And fewer
Life becomes a flickering candle
Just blown out
Keiya Tasire Jan 2020
It is so quiet.
I hear peanuts shells
teeth grinding
peanuts into butter
between his teeth.
The quiet page turning
Buried do deeply in
"The Scottish Prisoner"
It will be a while
Before he is hungry for dinner.
A bonus!
Turing thoughts inward
to the ever present ringing in my ears.
Long breaths in
and slower breaths out
Allowing the noise to disappear.
It is a quiet night. I like quiet nights.
Glenn Currier Nov 2019
In between the chords and notes,
spaces and pauses, can I find rest
for my hands long enough to get a dose
of the muse, a cosmic moment to reflect?

And when a chord is sustained
it carries me in anticipation
of what change or pain
will come, and for what duration.  

From measure to measure
I wait upon the muse
for some small treasure
to dwell, disrupt and suffuse,

interrupt the normal routine
and reveal something splendid,
an artistic moment unforeseen
a miraculous onset unintended.

Do the angels and the divine
intervene in a poet’s affairs,
create miracles in the mind
momentarily suspend daily cares?

Or are we listening to the music and muse alone
save the few who gather around
our lines for now til we’re gone
to embrace wholly ground?
Allesha Eman Aug 2019
I can see that your feet ache
I can see it in the wrinkles by your eyes
You’ve walked treacherous miles
Overcome a thousand storms
But you still wear the same smile
The one talked about in stories
The one that sneaks up on you
Whenever your reminiscing on your childhood
I can see your hands shake
Whenever you try to be strong
Whenever your shoulders stand tall
Like mountain peaks waiting to be climbed
But you still always laugh
One that rings in my ear
Like symphonies and harmonies
That make me feel like a maestro

I can see that you’re tired
But you still appear so alive
You never let brightness disappear from your eyes
I can see that you’re hurting
You show me how strong you are
But you’ll never end this lie
I can see that you’re resting
You’ve said your last goodbyes
And now you leave a legacy behind
One that flows in my blood
Whilst yours runs dry
And I hold it to my chest
With every adversity I face
I remember your stubbornness
And all I can do is smile
Lost May 2019
Nocturnal awakening
At 2am
The stairs

Slipping out the door
A whisper of a person
A shadow of a woman
Car keys clenched tight
In a bony fist

Racing thoughts
Each one too fast
To see it out
To the end
Incomplete sentence
Interrupted by my own

Down the front steps
Light scuffing of slippers
On concrete
Opening the driver door
And dropping into the seat
Half expecting
To fall straight through
Half hoping
To hit the floor
Colliding with the ground
A welcome impact
I need to be shaken
I need to be stirred
I need to reset
A cognitive correction

Keys in the ignition
Thinking of my neighbors
As I turn
Wondering if they’re awake
Listening to the sounds
Of me giving up
Giving in
To insomnia

Cigarette paper
Sticking to dry lips
Lighter under my thumb
Fire’s gentle kiss
Smoke plumes
Out the window
Into the cloudy
Donna Apr 2019
My dogs have flopped down
on my feet now I can’t move
Ah well time to rest
Help I can’t move my dogs have seriously fell asleep on my feet if I move I will wake them
up  lol bless , there way cute n heavy!  ***
Levi Kips Dec 2018
When I tell my friend you have a Resting ***** Face. What I mean to say is your face is your bulletproof vest that these one shot guys are scared to shoot their shot at. What I mean is I don't have to worry about you being caught in the teeth of some sharply dressed shark who is looking for his next meal. What I mean is the guys who are scared to break their streaks with girls they meet in a snap will rethink their next words before asking you to chat. I don't tell you have resting ***** face to bring you down a peg. I tell you this because the next wood block boy who tries to talk to you see's what I see. A intelligent young lady who won't be swept away by good looks and false momentum. A brick wall screen stopping any defender whose chasing down her future. I know if I see you with any proposition like guy I don't have to be on auto correct or grammar check him,  because if he's made it this far then he saw the beauty that’s underneath your skin and your Resting ***** Face.
about a friend
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