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Carl D'Souza Jul 30
When I was a youth
I was ambitious
to be recognised
as a know-it-all,
and so I often spoke
beyond my experience,
speculating when I did not have experiential-evidence;

Now that I’m wiser,
I never speak beyond the evidence
of my experience.
amber Oct 2018
i am reclusive
you are elusive
i step away
you slip away

maybe it is best
that you are so fleeting
you pass by
your shadow lingers
for a moment
and in that instant
i feel my chest collapse
Time to come home—
Before you never know
What happened to anything.
Speculation and Introspection
     Predatory Skills Possess
               You Are The Prey
Francie Lynch Jun 2017
I'm told the sky is blue.
God is dead.
Lead is heavier than cotton.
I'm not convinced I know where the sky starts.
You need proof, like a birth certificate, to be declared dead.
Cotton and lead can both weigh a gram or a tonne.
So, my conundrum... how do I write about what I know.
My name is Francie. I have a birth certificate, and it's yellowing...fast.
Whatever comes after this is pure speculation.
However, our opinions are weighed
With equations and laws. Laws.
There's a thumb on the scales.
Reason is subjective. Water is wet... warm... hard... vaporous... dry...
I can write about death, while I'm alive, believing in it.
My forehead is bleeding from pounding my lack of truths into verse
For readers to think of the possible, for certain.
Notes
Charlie Chirico Jun 2017
My hands above my head,
I grasp for purpose,
and pull the Sun to my chest.

Circles become arbitrary.
Squares, the cousins of
rectangles are discredited as
man-made. That's why metaphors
known as squares are seen as
vulnerable shapes in a misunderstood spectrum.
They are dotted lines
dependent on right angles,
left ashtray to explain anomalies.

So for order we justify lines.
We contain music within them.
Until, of course, the Holy Ghost
is found. Because that strike
against the canvas is thought
to be premeditated.

But that isn't human nature.
That isn't God.
It will only become recorded
notes on a page.
It's retrospect.
A future remembrance of the past.
It's the Sun in your heart,
knowing that containing that
kind of energy is hazardous
to your health.
Marye Minstrel Jun 2017
Our reason is soon tested
By germs of gas
As we softly seethe among the flames
The nightmares of our pasts will awake
To hunt us through our older haunts

The death of our hearts soothes
The dearth of our souls
We lie
Drunk, unable to lie

In truth is ruth, but also
Joy
Maybe suffering is first, or truth
Second

Because the poem is another
Of my seeds
Another to grow into mushrooms
Of inhaled gas.
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