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Mia J Aug 2020
Take me back to the times when I didn’t know what I know now.
Take me back to the days where I didn’t know that I existed in a cruel world.
Take me back to where the only faces I naturally smiled at were the people
who truly loved me.
Take me back to the days when my Queen-sized bed was a white crib
and slept for as long as I wanted.
My parents did everything for me while I just smiled and giggled.
Take me back to the times when my car was a stroller and the gas that
kept it going was my parent’s arms.
Take me back to the time when having fun meant riding my bike or scooter
around the park.
Take me back to the days when the only things worth chasing were bubbles
before they got away.
Take me back to the times where the only games I was used to was Dragon Ball Z or Tekken
or Mortal Kombat.
Or games on the websites of Cartoon Network, Disney Channel, or Nickelodeon.
Take me back to the days when the only words to describe boys were annoying or cute.
Take me back to the days when the only friends I knew I had was my teddy bear
or my blanket.
Take me back to the days when the only color I was concerned about was the my favorite one.
Take me back to the days when my devices of entertainment were dolls, toy cars, and
an easy bake oven.
Take me back to the days when the only puzzle pieces to put together were ones my
parents purchased for me.
Take me back to the days where my thoughts were what was for dinner or what I was
going to wear the next day.
Take me back to the days of nap time.
Take me back to the days where the only stories I enjoyed hearing were from Dr. Suess or Eric Carle.

I know I couldn’t wait to grow up.
But I’d give anything for one day of the simplicity I wasn’t thankful enough for.
#OWL'S WORLD
#OWL'******br>
Seranaea Jones Jul 2020
my ears soak inside-out in a seltzer
filled glass on my bedroom nightstand
each evening so that the ringing will
hopefully dissolve and settle to the bottom

they dream of wingtips that the
maple can hear through the leaves
as they stir the breeze upon landing,
the patter of avian claws gripping
the bark in short scoots,

the stretch of a twig bending downward
with the slightest brush of a feather, the
splitting noises of a newborn’s egg,
and even the breath taken before
the whoosh of a dive—

they awaken this morning with
words and imagination bringing
forth a new voice,

one which reads aloud to them
about the simple sounds
that birds can make...



"a whoosh unheard"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
originally posted 29 March 2008
on MySpace

i sleep with a fan on each
night to drown out
the ringing in
my ears
.
Anais Vionet Jun 2020
Simple is exact - uncomplicated,
with power to relax the unmotivated.
Silence, except a counting clock
where time’s passing is illustrated.

Simple is enough, and it awaits
me in this familiar place.
I wish I could stay,
spend the whole day
and live just awhile at this pace.

Complex seems to call me
it waits just outside the door
I come here to breathe in memories
and bask in simplicity once more.
simplicity, quiet, a quiet period
CMXIClement Jun 2020
The pipes are frozen,
no heat or water.
The toilet to the brim with **** again.
We'll need two buckets.  
One for the toilet,
And one to ask the neighbors for water.
She used the shovel,
I asked for water.
I always hated the looks I got.
Looks of pity,
and mixed with disdain.
I walk to the kitchen, trash littered.
I look in the fridge,
There is nothing there.
Thank god there was a free meal program.
I would rush to school,
to get there early.
To make sure I got enough to eat.
I feel lucky.
Some kids don't have it.
But I can't forget my ribs showing.
Partly depression.
Partly their drug use.
Food stamps sell for fifty cents per dollar.
I look around and
Notice things are gone.
My room missing things they pawned off for cash.
I was never home.
That did not exist.
Just a house full of people I burdened.
I get back from school,
And the house is dark.
Never know where they go when they are gone.
I go to my room.
And I sit and cry.
Wishing someone would come home to see me.
I wanted a life.
One that was normal.
One where I was not so empty inside.
And under the bed
A razor is tucked.
A lesson learned from watching my sister.
Suicides an option:
Another lesson,
As I watched her overdose on the floor.
Life was empty and...
Was intermingled..
With fear, and anxiety, and sadness.
I would peer across
to the neighbors house.
I wondered what it was like to be them.
Seeing happiness...
I had to suppress
All the heartache and tears I longed to spill.
What could I have done?
Was this punishment?
My wants were so simple but no one cared.
They did not like me.
I reminded them
Of a man whose faults they embellished.
I woke one morning.
I heard noise downstairs.
Most of our items were now all curbside.
We were evicted,
but no one told me.
One day you have a home, then you do not.
Sheriff department
The following spring
Came into our house and emptied it all.
My last memory
Was of the neighbors,
Watching our family, our life on the street.
We left most items.
We took what we could.
We found a ****** house by the train tracks.
The house was condemned,
the landlord cared little.
But...that house is a story for later.
Enduring these things,
Your dreams become simple.
You dream for things people take for granted.
My dream was simple.
It is still simple.
To love, and be loved.  To help those in pain.
When you scale the wall,
Do not hop over.
Turn back, and look down to those outstretched hands.
To those now struggling,
Keep pressing forward.
I know it seems daunting, keep pressing on.
You suffered too much
To not be happy.
Go through the swamp 'til you see the meadow.
It exists, it does.
Beyond the veil
Of pain and agony, joy is waiting.
If anyone ever needs anyone to talk to, please do not hesitate.  There are so many who have gone through so much more, but I have gone through enough to know the power of empathy.  I am here, I promise.
Glenn Currier Jun 2020
I get up in the morning
and my first duty is to our cats
to ensure they have food and water
to satisfy their simple needs.
They have no urgency to gather in
the myriad strands and filaments
of my mind to focus on them.
Unlike me, they are without ego
or neurosis or compulsions
or impulse to chew and devour
startling new currents of thought
or to dissect and parse tradition
to produce some new light of intellect.
Their feline genius of simplicity
is my present focus of admiration
and desire.
But of course I could never dissolve
the accumulated humanity
focused in my solitary mind
and achieve the elegant ease
with which our cats occupy
their meager patch of earth.
This morning I have a yearning for simplicity of focus and devotion right in my own back yard, to care for the tomato plants, to wash the dishes with care and mindfulness, to simply listen to and watch my wife and say hello to my small universe and in the process, perhaps, absorb some precious particle of the cosmos.
Scott Hunter Jun 2020
I saw you twice and time again
And so I know, both now and then
That light and dark can interchange
As freely as a bow can bend
As leaves can shimmer in the sun
The same as when the world began.

Green, glistening in the sun.

That’s how I know what matters, see
Our timbers move, their branches free
They do not push or pull against
The ever-changing elements.

They simply be and let time run.

Green, glistening in the sun.
© 2004
Dr K S Bhardwaj May 2020
As Anyone Says "Thank You,"
I Feel, "I Am Made Unknown."
I Too Shrink At Such Formal Ways
Making Me Myself To Me Unknown.

Is It Necessary To Say "Thanks"
Or "Sorry" Between The Closest,
I  Feel Such Formalities
Throw Us Apart The Farthest.

Informal Ways Bring Us The Closest
Make Our Lives Simpler And Easier,
Remove The Pomp And Shows,
Bring Us To The Closest To Nature.
I Quite Often Listen "Thank You" And "Sorry" Which Look Very Odd. At Least I Feel As I Am Being Made A Stranger. Excess Of Everything Is Said To Be Bad. So Shun Excesses...
irinia May 2020
Of patience, I know only
what sea turtles have taught me:
how they are born on lightless
beaches so the moon can serve
as a beacon to lure them
into the water; how they spend
their whole lives trying to swim
towards it, enamored, obsessed;
how they flap their forelimbs,
a vague recollection of flying -
the right movement in the wrong
medium, as if they knew how
to reach the moon in a former life
but now only remember the useless
persistent motions; how if you cut
one's heart out it would keep
beating in the pit of your palm,
recognizing the cold night air.

by Ariel Francisco from Best New Poets 2016 50 Poems from Emerging Writers
John McCafferty Apr 2020
You have no sympathy
as rumours flee
Spotlight's on
and facts act accordingly

Simplicity shows less shadow

Is it more just to be
As the price for the free
holds levels of uncertainty
Value your integrity
It is more to be just
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
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