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Still Here Oct 27
There is no graceful transition
of a cup of hot hot coffee
from one hand to another hand,
the cup only has one handle.

It is inherantly akward,
almost as if it’s intended,
a brief, forced, colaboration
to keep the coffee in the cup.

Contorting to not spill a drop,
Still, clumbsy, after these long years
and a thousand repetitions,
ten thousand hot cups of coffee.

We angle ourselves to the task,
a brief intimate fumbling,
until the cup is handed off,
and the best part of it is gone.

                                     -Still Here
Jeremy Betts Oct 5
I leave her alone
To give her the time
To feed her desires
'Till her own passion expires
And she falls asleep...
...in her preferred alone
So I can then come in
And kick the same tires
Left to fight the nightmares
Of my expressed fears
Of again being unwanted
And then try to sleep...
...in the worst type of alone

©2024
Jeremy Betts Sep 23
This habitual
Hypocritical ritual
Keeps me cynical
The biggest battle's internal
A raging war roaring eternal
To vile for an example
Dying inside is literal
Allowing the visual
To be topically minimal
Though the condition is critical
A pitiful cry for help comes out in a trickle
Subliminal and lyrical
The unusual becomes typical
With the refusal of a label
There's no removal of the painful
Every attempt has been futile
Life is miserable
When love is conditional

©2024
The progress is slow but perpetual
Impassioned as well as habitual
Avoid second guessing
To honor the blessing
And live every day like a ritual
Zywa Jul 26
They all sympathise

and write their best intentions --


to put in the urn.
Poem "Als enige kennisgeving" ("As the only announcement", 2023, Jana Arns)

Collection "Em Brace"
Zywa Jun 13
The farewell party

is especially festive --


for those who can stay.
Film "Les magnétiques" ("The magnetics" / "The audiotapes", 2021, Vincent Maël Cardona)

Collection "Em Brace"
Zywa Jan 21
We say goodbye, short

- long - stop, the signalling code --


of: I think of you.
Novel "jl." ("recently" - the title also refers to the character Juno Linnaarts, 2016, Anjet Daanje), chapters December 23rd, 1973 and December 9th, 1980

Collection "Inmost [1]"
irinia Jan 9
we are targets for light, for the precision of its
unknown aim, yet we insist in blackening the world
as a self-described pyromaniac, I practice daily rituals with your presence. I tell your name to the wind, to the sheets, to the cup of tea,  to the orchids. then I tell to myself who I am, who you are.
outside the world is drowning in its own guts. your name is incomprehensible, but not to the rituals of the heart, they defy gravity, brevity and bribery. Diffracted on the psychic field your trajectory is eerie, the amplitude of some waves enormous, as I watch them wash the horizon away. dreams are the only shadowless creatures, and still I dream only your shadow. we still don't know why beauty is truth and truth is beauty. oh, happy rituals of the hands: inventing love, writing poetry.
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
I've always been the kid in the hall
Outside the office door of some metaphorical "principal"
Donning a dunce cap, back to the wall
Anticipation spikes in general
This time it's special
When waiting for the next hypothetical, often hypocritical, shoe to fall I make it a double
Dribble and drop the ball
Taking on the challenge of life was a bad call
The order's too tall, don't try it y'all
What I've been given to work with is abysmal
Can't rely on it being factual at all
A criminally out of date owners manual
A For Dummies series appealing to a low level criminal
Vaguely creating, and/or aiding, this failure ritual
Oh the unmitigated gall
Scheduling my burial service to take place before the funeral
Fuucking brutal
I hate it and it seems the feelings mutual
The line stepping is habitual
The backward motion is perpetual
Not sure any of this is avoidable
But, what do I know...
...everything and nothing is impossibly possible

©2023
In bitter ink
I dip my feather.
My hands carve out
A weathered letter.
I hold the page
Steady, it hovers
Grazing the flame.
Your name getting hotter,
Til it crumbles to ashes -
Catching fire at my altar.

▪︎ mica light ▪︎
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