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Andreas Simic Apr 2022
you are the Ambrosia of my mind
the apple of my eye
crisp and Red delicious
a Macintosh in waiting

     Granny Smith is exuberant
     over our Gala to toast the Empire
     I see a Pink Lady in Fuji
     Honeycrisp in every way

you are the Envy of Pazzaz
playing Jazz in Cameo at the Braeburn
in front of Lady Alice in Holstein
like a Hidden Rose

     though Janagold is **** mixed with sweetness
     your Liberty embraces Gravenstein
     akin to a Pacific Rose like an Opal
     enjoying Winesap instead of Mutsu

Andreas Simic©
Written about the 25 kinds of apples listed here.
coulorfulSmoke Jan 2021
Fur of bat
toad-like grin
eyes of lazy gold
green in sin

Sitting on the edge of forever
croaking sweet lullabies
a tendril tongue spanning galaxies
devouring worlds like tiny flies

A slothful gluttony so boundless
a privilege to slip down his amphibian throat
let's spend eternity inside him
together churning, wailing, floating in the acid moat
Andrew Rueter Dec 2020
Alex Smith is a quarterback
more importantly a husband, son, and father
who is cut no sort of slack
in a sport of slaughter.

West coast offense
almost always softens
someone in the pocket
used to quick tosses.

A deserved demotion to backup
made his life increasingly harder
all of the mistakes and bad luck
called for a new start for the starter.

Washington by way of San Francisco
he wasn't high up as far as the list goes
Alex Smith got his wish though
and was back in the fishbowl.

Alex Smith was used in
a game against Houston
and was rolled into a compound fracture
from a double defensive back compactor.

His trip to the hospital
wasn't quite optimal
and it kept getting worse
opening the door to a hearse.

The doctors detected
the wound was infected
Alex had become septic
with bacteria interjected.

Blood pressure dropping
and a fever rising
you know he wasn't flopping
by the way he was writhing.

The leg was turning black
and developing huge blisters
the knowledge they lacked
to heal the maimed mister.

His wife was worried
so were the physicians
to surgery they hurried
on a life saving mission.

The doctors discovered the issue
was necrotizing fasciitis
infecting skin and muscle tissue
like a black King Midas.

Daily debridement
helped with askew alignment
but the bone still looked like a trident
and the infection was the only assignment.

Should they take the leg while they can cut below the knee?
Is wanting to live your life a form of greed?
Does a steed consider its ambulatory needs?
Alex just follows the doctor's lead.

Eight debridements leave the tibia completely exposed
but the necrotizing fasciitis is gone
yet once one's legs explode
how can they move on?

Replacement skin comes from the quad
despite the risk of failure
the doctors took over for God
as epidermic tailors.

Intense physical therapy
is better than sitting scarily
or holding onto life barely
so Alex proceeded merrily.

Eventually healing
getting back to wheeling
this game didn't end in kneeling
when there was extra time to be stealing.

He was told he wouldn't play anymore
he was told he'd lose his leg
now the doctors have nothing to say anymore
and he's only looking ahead.

Playing with no team name
it was definitely no dream game
two teams that were three and seven
but for one quarterback this was heaven.

Two years after getting injured
Alex beats a divisional opponent
something no one would've inferred
back in that pivotal moment.
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2018
honor: “you stumble where gods get lost”

honor,

still the tattoo being drawn on my senses,
unresolved and demanding
solution or surrender,
acknowledging, that I am not poet enough

tho y’all keep diverting me with poem commissions,
half started but will freezer keep until Jacob’s angel and I
have wrestled this honor notion to the ground for good,
which means once and forever

Patti’s words distinctly heard:
“you stumble where gods get lost”
and that’s what the poetry is for,
to word wrestle until the resolution revelation shines
and someone cries out uncle, father, son, are we not all
samed and shamed when we wrestle with honor


will you know honor when it presents itself?

a man keeps his word and another honors them both
with a monthly sum that says friendship is a promise kept

a father texts to a son in trouble “got your back” that elicits
a return verse of “I love you;”. that’s love, not honor cause someone remembers their immigrant father’s hell going slowly by and this poem and that memory revived, that’s honor

(******* tears on my phone screen, a ****** pain @6:53am
on sabbath morn; no body invited the interlopers;  not me anyway)

honor is not a parade or not the kind on my mind today: the honor that gets you medaled that’s all about brotherhood,
that’s a different kind of honor I understand but not what I’m
about right wright write now

looking for small acts, small doses, nearly invisible to the naked
eye, indeed, ya need a scrunched up squint to detect the honor that I need so desperately seek to theorem proof that,
even I got some

one of you wrote me, I am nothing.
one of you wrote me,
that they are all busted up on the boulevard of broken dreams.

trusting a stranger thru his crazier poems with depreciation and overwhelming sadnesses,
is that honor?

my rsvp (how could I not), is that honor?

honor sought in the small necessities which are more important than small kindnesses wrought from love: those come easy natural

necessary necessity, the word itself bleeds pressure on the soul; but i don’t mean paying your bills, burying your parents and such stuff;


honor is in the unnecessary:  where actions defeat uncertainty, honor is stepping up when no one calls out need

honor is the first step the hand extended and the concomitant
electric shock that traverses two hands in a shake that obviates
unnecessary words
like thank you

which why gods stumble, get lost, they only get praise conferred
but honor belongs only to us humans,
to give honor.
that’s power gods don’t got,
why they oft get lost

so thank you for staying with me this far,
you honor me by listening to an old man
seizing up when his mind asks him direct

did you live with honor,
and tho the summing up s’ain’t over,
(lol laughing, at the ain’t autocorrect),
at least now I know what to count,
what counts,
doing the unnecessary unasked
in small ways, a quieter doing good,
honor needs two and starts when you say hey
hey you...


*7:36am Saturnday  2+10+18
Shabbat Shekalim
writ without disguise
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2020
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2427648/the-patti-smith-poems-the-alchemy-of-his-prescriptions/


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2346726/how-i-honor-you-notes-from-a-conversation-with-patti-smith/

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2351121/honor-you-stumble-where-gods-get-lost/
Mike May 2020
Star Bound

Society, sobriety, entirely, I’m finally
Not in denial, my smirk is my smile
No coasting or boasting, no time left just get toasted
Rampaging pages, no waiting in cages, lately impatient

I’ve been standing dismantled, thoughts scrambled, abandoned
Pursuing soothing illusions, mirages emerge influent
These terrors in bearing preparing on perishing
Common ground sound, vibrations deterred losing renown

Bracing the wastes, enticing the tastes, priceless the chase
Overencumbered, numbered the days I have left to plunder
Decisions are rampant, listless the canvas, incision the campus
Unveiled are the plans to ensnare, hail to the king of the fail

Spots on the rocks with my scotch in the locks
Pretty, petty, steady confetti, embezzle the Getty be ready
Losses, no life lost, eternally embossed, drained and caustic
Fires burn urging to earn, no concern, my place in the stars

By:  Cosmik
J J May 2020
All I ever see now is things of hers that you left lying around,

I wear her pain vicariously,
You do not get to just die.

Morning cuts through the dawny sky
And lifts along the wall,
The squeaky squawk of pigeons flying
By outside in unison.

Tired. Our faces are so tired. She reminds me of her so much

Sometimes and when she drops your name my blood turns to ice

Dejavu memento mori dejavu memento... life was simpler when

I didn't fear or care about death.
PoserPersona Dec 2018
Iron and coal fused into a steel sword
torn from the comforts of an idle home
Against both will and wish into the forge

Mere foot to pedal unshackles the horde
onto that which was ****** into the dome
Iron and coal fused into a steel sword

Crude earth melts into an effulgent form
that once cooled will become harder than stone
Against both will and wish into the forge

Burning is sequestered by drowning boards
that go unnoticed but for hissing moan
Iron and coal fused into a steel sword

New pain begins despite what came before
anvil and hammer fashion the unknown
Against both will and wish into the forge

Those who endure will still need to be honed,
to be, of their own soul, the highest lord.
Iron and coal fused into a steel sword,
against both will and wish into the forge
“Mastering others requires strength. Mastering yourself is true power.” -Lao Tzu
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