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Karijinbba Apr 2020
Dear Poet artist how do you do?
one of you wrote wearing a mask
like always before cov-02-19
I wanted to wear V for Vendetta type Mask we all should.
Karijnbba response on poem
"Ratoncito Blanco"

"I've been reading bunch of your
work, and I've become a better person reading them.
You have got more than wisdom, you have truth and a higher understanding of the existential paradigme, that's to say,
a better then most, a true artist."
What a beautiful thing to say!
I love you too!
"I love you the most in this whole wide world"
I read your art too resurfacing from

my healed memory chip.
How amazing a true artist yourself are.

And as I understand it too;
a true artist always minds his or her own business and does not get carried away by other people.
He or she is self-assured and grateful for the very little things that come to bless such life of survival lacking on even
the basic necessities but still is able to genuinely freely offer  
a slanted smile to die for
enveded in our soul so deep
it's there like a sunshine
the moon and all stars above!
Understanding how
true artists love what they do, but they do not obsess over it.
True artists are confident about their art, generous at heart, and free of ego.

Thank you dear Poet it's obvious a true artist like yourself  understands another true artist like myself hum?
I guess in the art virtues we are
twin souls too ha!.
How interesting indeed it's ttue
Art isn't something that's made by artists.
Artists are people who make Art.
Seizing new ground, making connections between people
or ideas, working without a map these are works of art,
and if you do them, you are an artist, regardless of whether you wear a smock, use a computer, a cellphone to type story poems like I do,
or work with others all day long.”
Your compliment has truth wisdom very wise a delicately graceful way to communicate
your innercore feelings
about how you benefitted reading my art mu true story porms.
you too are fascinating in my hearts eye
and I am forever greatetul too
and changed in Awe of how your mind can trace my soul pleeding to hear from you beautiful soul.

You always find me you are fantastic!
I always call out your names along side the Lord's name
you still take my breath away till tears flow and laughter seals the realization deal indicating painful defeat.

You were the best husband best lover best father patpapa grandfather best friend best poet best artist that many meet but few know intimately.
I suppose the wisdom you see in me is your very own artist and all.
By Karijinbba 04-03-20
Copy Rights;story poem.
Revised 04-09-20
millions have the exact same date of birth but aren't twin souls
some get lucky read someone else s love letters corner the king in his own castle get him drunk lie pretending they are his beloved Ginnyver calling out checkmate.
Madison Greene Sep 2019
I want to be a greeter to the new seasons
to allow the new love, new sunrises and sunsets
the moon looks different from here
I gave away the old shirts and kissed the new lips and let the old worries stay awhile
change is the only thing we're promised
I made my old bed in a new room and danced in the kitchen in my same socks
I welcomed the softer skin and sugar-coated voice, the life that changed when I stopped looking back
everything shifts and I adjust
it's me, a new me, the same me
somehow different
somehow just as marvelous
theboy Jun 2015
•  Old dresser drawers reopened
• silly, simple T-shirts back in style
• confusion of how the last 5 years of fashion
• abandoned honesty and compassion, straightforward presentation

• he swims into the swatch
• it fits perfectly, but what to wear with it?
• total mystery; his sleek, **** jeans?
• his soft, comfortable shorts?

• maybe this would be easier if
• he owned less costumes
• silently noting that nudists
• likely feel quite comfortable in T-shirts

• shuddering @ the thought of such vulnerability
• he sorts through another stack
• faded reds dredging long drowned days
• eyes closed, sun bleeding crimson, thoughts lofty

• wondering what the sneakers he used to wear
really said
• long sigh, less than hopeful
• but these things are cyclical, you know

• what goes, eventually comes
• old pictures always met with "what was I thinking"
• with fashion, you never can be sure, not even later
• besides, one day you'll just wear a suit, so be simple now
please view the physical portion of this project
first page {imgur dot com slash} 4furjCh
second page{imgur dot com slash} 6Iyf4Ox
full spread {imgur dot com slash} 606dvsn
Margaret Jun 2014
I've gotten in trouble before
          though it hasn't been for awhile
For a shirt too low
                  or a short too short.

And I took time out of my day
For boys who couldn’t stop staring.
Kasey Apr 2014
Arrows raining down on our feet,
And yours aren't covered.
None hit our heads but the bottoms of your feet blister.
So take my sole to save your soul,
Because we can't control these arrows or how far we have to walk.
We can't tell our feet to stop blistering and moving
When there's work to be done in places
That aren't here.
Thousands of tiny arrows make their way from our feet to our shirts,
Just over our left *******,
Where we thought our hearts were no longer.

— The End —