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Madeleine Mar 2019
The sniffer to smell
From the indoors to the outdoors
Rotten and the fresh

The smell of flowers
To the fresh crisp autumn air
And campfire treats

Manure on farms
getting sprayed by a scared skunk
or dumpsters in back

From kitchen dinners
And the freshly baked cookies
and banana bread
Ken Pepiton Mar 2019
Benine benine be nine seven

crap. Betcha two more more mores for
one more chance at that

Aha! We imagined…

… mean pause if then else ifthen else to the tenth,
take it
don't missit, these thinks happen

rare, raw and dripping re

ish itch tar Ishtar and two snakes

while, recall, Moses, lawgiver and guide,
trumping Lycurgis's lawgiver only,

Moses had one for every eye to see or die
and one for every other heel to stomp.

Old Arizona Cowboy Preacher Proverb
Some times… ya'hafta…stomp yer own (goes unsaid)
[dam'd] snakes.
[ever bodies gottem by the plenty]

One of the Robin Clan of whitemanlan
Theodds, down the Hasayampa
Odd fellows, I remember there was a lodge…

… also means, when no point persists in being made despite the el-elucidation,
light's prime directive clarifying

the principal paring of time to the tenth and
you dear reader, if temporary times are

familiar, to you. Like, family,
a truncated simile metaphor word compact,

like jot family, familiar, family spirit,

house gods and goblins and lit-t'le ***-p'le in blue triangular hats,

… selah … be still … listen … listen

no threats of madness, nor vengeance or conviction
no act-use-ations fraying threads

neither curse nor cuse nor demn 'r'here,
life-central,
pretend you can practice real is ation

as you read. Dear reader, you are magi,
you know words hold powers, yours
for the reaaching beyond,

trust me, errors are far fewer than you have been led to believe.
Entire cultures set spelled-out prophecies swirling
into imagined infinity
withnaryaperiodjotortittle with no discernible weakening

of the original thread of thought that has us taking
these chances with madness

Philosopher Poet Sophist Cabalist Prospering-liarist

Hawthorne's Man in Black works for Sam Harris's God's
Master Baiter

--- not off track, side-tracked, to let two-way traffic happen---
---flowing systems, despite inevitable turmoil swirling
---this way and that--- cloud shape oaks framed in
twisting, tugging, pulling-pushing, lifting-dropping,

rocking-rolling, the old man is snoring
clapping and clanging waking the dead

oh, wait. not yet. wink. Swallow the bait.

see these threads, these delicate xylem tunnels,
cellulose cathedrals, when you see re-al close,
and, watch this, oak-speed,
California Black Oak speed and deegree of strain
zingle point
a branch maywillshallcanbe tugging a reaching out
rootical radial fractaling famous form

seen in silhouette
California Black Oaks are the Cumulus Nimbi of trees,
in my tiny bubble
five hundred drys gone by pushing cool away so
there ain't
no mo' mo'nin' dew

Woe, blues is fo' some oth ah time. You see.
We make peace here.

This is is our family farm or fact-or-knoting
Knott's Berry Farm being the birthplace of Boysenberries
has always seemed prophetic to me,

here's why, no wu wu, jus'thefax. done d'done done, now

Henry Boysen.
A chapter. AND nada. Same with Paul Lomasny, as
portrayed by Sal Mineo, in The Longest Day.

Despite the scars he had to show, I haven't found his
cred fact checkible, these days

that means
conspiracy, though spiracy sans con is also rumored

probable, should there be another

anti matter bubble develop in the biome blowing bubbles
from gmos bonding

with swallowed double bubble
and in'n'out doubledoubles

in the guts of children returning from a day with
a de-programmed boomer

relativity plays a roll. Snake eyes. Wanna bet?
2019.1-9
This coincides with a rock concert with snakes in Dallas... collective sub sistent concience science, I believe.
MJL Mar 2019
Dawn
The routine
Awake to a standing pause
Before the wheel turns again
Beans break the seal
The fresh start of a new day
Slowly grinding into movement
This disturbance is accepted
Its purpose is measured
Against the quiet peace
Deep berry-breathing oils the wheel
Pale orange rays soothe the stiffness
Inhale everything
Milled dewdrops drip comfort
Share the moment with an old friend
You
No words needed
Just a nod between turns


© 2019 MJL
I love the quiet coffee time early, before the day begins. Either alone with with my love, just a pause before the new day begins. Time for introspection.
Leif Feb 2019
The first time I loved
reminded me of the first time I smelt lavender
it touched the tip of my nose, so unexpected, yet so soft
drawing me into its source, the purple splendor

That’s how I remember our love, as a violet sky
A sight only present in the sunsets of our dreams

My nose bathed in the aroma
And for the first time, I felt fresh, pure, and clean

but it faded
the sweet scent of your love
and the fainter it became, the harder I tried to reach it
I thought it was the wind carrying it away
And so I followed the breeze
But it was lost, my nose was blind
and the flower was all that remained
comforting, Delicate, vibrant
yet not enough

oh what a fool I was
wanting magic and wasting life
I left the garden
In search of what I lost
Not knowing what I had found

because whether or not I could swim in its aroma
that flower rose to meet me each day, its petals full and its color deep
seeking to bless me with its beauty and grasp me in its care
hoping it would find me there, to protect it, keep it, and honor it
I hate to imagine the sadness, when I could no longer be found

now today, I only wish I knew where I first found it
so I could return
and though I’m sure that the scent would strike my heart again
this time I would stay
for I know now, that on the other side of the smoke screen
true beauty is waiting

I so hope that no one has picked her
yet I would not blame them if they did
Enjoy!
Quinlyn Feb 2019
You never forget the aroma
Of your true love
Eugene Jan 2019
the heavy smell of flowers filled the room
it was only when she turned on the light
that i realized it’s roses
even worse: there’s a hundred of them
identical, bland, repetitive
tasteless
much like the person who brought them here, i imagine
i would never bring her roses
but then again
why would i bring her anything
we’re divorced, aren’t we?
the smell is too strong
may i smoke a cigarette?
Faisal Bolaki Jan 2019
Scars of your love shine bright tonight,
Bruised heart screamed in pain tonight,

Ripped off were the dark scabs,
When deceitful gaze entered my soul tonight,

Sacred sighs of whispering mingled with breathe,
Your talks smell of my blood tonight.
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