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You should write a poem...
About the things you always do,
About waking up and tying your shoe
About your classes at school galore
About not wanted to do your chores
About not really knowing if you’re good enough,
About being weak and acting tough
About that joke you just said,
About that conversation inside your head.
About your cat
About that hat
About this, about that...
Yeah, you should write a poem about that.
Shoutout to all the people in my life who I sincerely love who constantly suggest poem ideas... Which I never take.
Nat Lipstadt Aug 19
Alaska:
“though the whole world should be mad at once
though the elements should be changed, though the angels should rebel: yet verity (irrefutable truth) cannot lie.”  
                                                         ­                  Erasmus of Rotterdam

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for BJ Donovan, a fine, fine poet
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verity, irrefutable truth, cannot lie,
or belie it’s non-contradictory nature,
even, in a small airport, a one runway affair,
somewhere in Alaska
ribboned tween icy crags and dagger-ous peaks,
low cloud coverings of sub-zero visibility,
that inquire, in an indigenous tongue
of the flying fool pilots,

“really?”

if I or you ask me why I’m here,
Alaska,
the answers come in only three Heinz varieties,
true or false positive, no differentiation needed,
the other, is called
“one who doesn’t know how to ask”

you know him,
the simpleton, the simple one, me,
who can’t frame the question without

risking that he frame himself

betraying and displaying his woeful ignorance,
a veneered confidence of knowing so little about much

in the shed, a/k/a
‘the terminal,’ we wait,
me and an ex-Buddhist priest,
head stubble shaved, of course, round horn rimmed glasses wearing,
stone washed jeans blue, the color of his eyes,
reflecting mine as well as the blue glacier ice
surrounding us both, we,
the extraneous human eagle interlopers

showed him the Erasmus quote, provoking one of them,
thin lined, whimsical, eye-glinting smiles of those
who know the answer
to the knotty ones, or,
know better, that knotty questions one asks himself
when high up in the mountainous glacier ranges,
get answered just by silent patience

he smiled for an eternity of
at least five minutes,
my heart pulsating big time,
this modern man anticipating, in his calm, dulcet two tones,
his understanding of another ancient translating another,
even more ancient, speaking:

”the world is indeed mad,
through neglect letting the elements warp, glaciers melt;
the angels have indeed rebelled at the
foreseen fated falsehoods perpetrated,
verity,
torn asunder,
and the line between balance and imbalance,
so jaggedly ripped in too many places that verity a victim
so badly assaulted, its face is no longer identifiable by AI, worse,
so covered, dying, undiscoverable.

but you ask!
ask of yourself, asking of others, and tolerating
uncurled, uncut uncertainty, you retreat and reconsider,
this then is your answer!
it is the
ASKING,
that is verity, itself! there can be no lying thing in the
quest of questioning
that accepts, rejects, and unceasingly asks again^

this is a the only irrefutable truth and what it asks of you:

never accept the illogic of belief, let your own eyes be the best judge;
ask and ask thrice, be satisfied that being disastrously dissatisfied
is the norm, the mean,
the line toward a perfection that may not ever exist(ed)
for our flaws define us, thus so much greater is our truths when we
we reshape them, ourselves, for verity itself is not so hard to find,
but the finding of one self is too difficult for most


for asking is too painful,
too primordial, and why I am no longer a priest nor teacher,
but a simple observer of the answers that can be found in the
silences of places,
the Alaska’s inside of us,
where nature’s sets
an open table for anyone
wiling to just ask...”
8/18/19
S.I., N.Y.

^”It is not in the asking, but in the searching and wrestling that we gain clarity.”
Johnny walker Aug 12
And If I and that a big If should ever make to
Heaven will my sweetheart remember my
name
And will she remember who I was and that we were once  man and wife that Is If I should make to
Heaven
And If I and that If should make to Heaven will she be there waiting for me will she come running when she sees
me
Will I make to Heaven I can't say don't know for sure  but hope I've done enough good In this life to earn
myself a place In
HEAVEN
Can I love him like I love you? The men now want to be the child. Unfortunatelyourtunitly, the men are use to bring taken care of. It's just not what a real lady wants. I want a grown man..someone that makes sure that I know that they are there. Make sure that I'm okay..that I have what I need. Not that a man doesn't have feelings because we know that they do. But if I'm the weaker vessels why I'm I catering to you. It's your job to be the back bone. Sure there are some people that want to play reverse rolls. I'm not them not do I want to be. People speak about women's rights. I have the right to be respected and speak as I need and have my mans back. Yet, I need my man to be a man. Teach him all of the good that you are. That way I can love him like I love you❤.
Love never fails
Carl D'Souza Jul 30
Are bad-habits
actions we do on impulse
without carefully thinking
whether we should do these actions?
Do bad-habits
lead us away from joy and happiness?
Towards unjoy and unhappiness?
Like overeating makes us fat and diabetic?
Liking smoking cigarettes gives us lung cancer?
Like alcoholism wrecks our life?

Should we introspect
to become self-aware of our bad-habits?
Evaluate our bad-habits?
And reform our mind
to expunge bad-habits from our mind?
"You can't speak to him like he does to you. He is standing on the ledge darling. Speak to him like you would someone with a fear of heights - who's just begun to look down. That. That is how you love him."
Johnny walker May 19
For the best part of me had left be with Helen that Oh sad day my sweetheart passed away for strongest part that of survival had left with
her
On the Oh sad day that she was taken from me and although somehow I will manage to survive but not be easy for the best part of
me
has gone to with be Helen for In truth that was day that all me should have left with her on that Oh sad day that my sweetheart did pass
away
Would have been much kinder than to leave part part of me here who In my struggles without my sweetheart and Is  less than half  a man I sm
without my
wife
Helen my sweetheart that all of me should have gone with her  on that Oh sad day to where truly It's to with Helen that 
 I belong
but I'm
left
remembering that Oh so sad day that my sweetheart went away but sadness and sorrow for In that all me should have gone on that Oh so sad
day
That my sweetheart was taken from me so all I can do sit and wait till It's my turn to go I just hope and pray that at the of my
life
I'll take  that long walk to light where on the other side my sweetheart will be there waiting for me and that Oh so sad day then all will be
forgotten
The Helen passed on was the day I should gone with for It would spared the sadness and sorrow that I've suffered since Helen moved on
Should I try harder?
Who can tell me this?
I got doubts and doubts got me
Should I try to kiss?
Tell me...
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