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Jeremy Betts Aug 7
Not startin' $hit
Just talkin' it
And I can talk it
'Cause I walk it
I believe in talk $hit
Get hit
I can take a hit
So come with it
Or I'm gonna have to ask you to step back a bit and sit

©2024
Mark Wanless Jul 2022
i sit in my apartment
alone and unconsciously
think of processies that happen
it's still there
sitting still inside those bars
the pages we drew together
not yet finished
will it still sit there
to many more chapters together, as they say
or
will it be covered in dusts
somewhere no one knows it exists
kay Sep 2021
would you let me breathe?
listen to all the ***** you say
needed space but there's no way
even I can't quit with a pray

everyone keeps on talking
but there's no one listening
to put the world on my back
instead of my hand

puts so much weight on the words
puts so much weight on the thoughts
everyone's in a rush
with no moment of hush

can we sit down and talk?
can we take a moment to breathe?
can we not run but walk?
can we take a moment to breathe?
everyone relax and let me breathe for a second, please.
Michelle May 2020
Why can't we just sit,
and wait until this becomes a memory.
Why can't we just fit,
out thoughts into the mold of a history-

We created this.
We created the turmoil,
The sky and the clouds,
That make our blood boil.

We have forgotten the silence,
In which our hearts beat.

Just sit and wait.
And this will all become a memory.
Just sit and wait,
And we will all become a memory.
Sometimes, letting go is all there is.
Zack Ripley May 2020
sitting in the dark but not feeling alone.
just trying to hide from the crazy the world has shown.
might come back to this someday.
Lark Apr 2020
in the rock and pause
let the roots envelop you
the growing embrace

in these stone confines
feel embers in veins of bark
the constant flicker

in this cave you know
give the breath of wind its due
the welcome whisper
Left Foot Poet Jan 2018
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inspired by a conversation with Maira Kalman


******* a name, adopt a persona, let my fingers do the talking,
place the instrumental sharp point tip upon the blankety blank paper,
maestro baton raised, coordinating,
the first sound, the vocal chords trembling,  
the first thought, the ultrasound image, entrance of a first violin,
coalescing into, into the initializing single primary phonation,
the stinging geometry of chance at last,
throwing  down the gauntlet, glove slapping, and the
tendons tense, the mouth opens, release and indentation,
a letter's curvature, a black and white downward stroking,
a sign is televised, revealed and released

a one way only sign

time bends knee, gravity suspended, terror morphs to
expelling rapid firefights of imagery needy for spacing,
even pauses mid-word  leave just this:

where is the in in
intimate?

are you the in in
inmate,
or the jailor at the gate?

you swear never again

until committing once more,

a sentence commutation, by committing a first sentence,

and the greater toll taken and paid for,

and the in in in-nate,
questions your sanity

happily


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9/17/17 10:55pm
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