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Ryun Dec 2021
It's falling, it's falling!

I scramble as it hits the ground——
oh what a crash!——loud is the sound
of losing a bed
     the place for my head
           all simply because
               I'd clumsily lost
                    some screws
and now I'm distraught
as I sit and watch, and thought:
a few screws loose——

                          Where could they be?

                                                           ——I did not see
                                              them under the chair
                                               or under the table
                                             among the tools
                                      or with the cables
Maybe I've swept them?
                                 ——they're not in the trash!
Did I throw it out?
                       ——but I wasn't that rash!

                        Or was I?          (I pause.)

——I pick up a phone
I dial a number
——his smartphone rings
I disrupt his slumber
he grunts as I blubber
——have you seen my screws?
This is no ruse, I find myself now——
                            a few screws loose!

I silently wait till he sighs and he says:

Have you checked the trashcan——
                                               ——It's not there, I saw
Or under the table——
                        ——have you checked the floor?

It's none of those places
——I searched at least twice
Why else would I call you
——at this time of night?
Please do me a favour and see if you find
the few screws I'm missing
                                                    I’ve left them behind.

I'll search tomorrow
——he says with a yawn.
——I hang up in sorrow
I'll call him at dawn.
I'll stay awake
                                                     or go to bed late
                                                     but

                                        wait

   My bed can hold neither my head nor my soul
        because of the holes and lost metal poles
             no more a bed than a pile of wood
                  it cannot be used, while I am
                                                     a
                     f
                        e   w
                                        sc r   e
                                                            w
                                                        s
                                                      

        ­                                                                 ­       loose.
Reformatted 2025. Another one of my very first pieces, inspired and informed by my experience re-assembling my bed frame the first day of moving out alone after very short divorce proceedings between my mother and stepfather. I had been revelling in the delight of assembling the entire structure by myself, when it promptly fell apart, upon which I realised I had forgotten the screws in the mad rush of moving.

Original note:
This is a continuation of sorts to Ending Parted Ways, I was focused on rhythm this time, which made this a lot of fun to read out loud.
From the ashes Nov 2021
Hey
Hey everyone, I was just
thinking about the
fact that poetry has
a long oral tradition.
Wouldn't it be fun to
get a youtube channel and
perform your poetry?
You are all so
great, I just wonder how it
sounds with the writer
reading it.
We could support each other
and promote our writing at
the same time.
I think this is another way to speak up for the art of poetry
E E Mellings Nov 2021
Who’re your heroes?

My heroes are those people that, despite the pain inside their head, will roll on out of bed every

Single

Day,

Get up, put their makeup on, pull on their jeans, stare at themselves in the mirror and say
‘Today, you. are. okay’
Not superman, or Spider-Man, Captain Marvel or Thor, but those people who marvel every day, that they haven’t killed themselves. That every day they don’t wake up in a cell with padded wall and no heating, eating frozen spoon fed dinners next to orderlies and sinners.

See,

My heroes aren’t those people, who can fly a thousand miles an hour or lift a car above their head,
But those people that fight every. single. day.

Who’s mind will tread that fine line between sorrow, and despair, who pray to the heavens that just for once, please, make the battle fair.
That when their  life is said and done, they’ll smile and see their conquest won.

These people are my heroes not for showmanship, fame, plumb or adieu, but for the silent battles won,

A thing that I could never do.
For Becki, Emily, Parm, and all of those who fight every day.
glass Oct 2021
a hand of circular motion
will turn and turn without promotion
a notion of loyalty unbreaking a sure one
but also forgiving will never occur

boxed up bottles full of glass
a burn from plastic flames of past
a cast doesnt mean that broken pieces should last
for the renewal will never occur

fearsome dearsome and doleful
a spur of the moment decision thats hopeful
a bowl full of concepts berating an old soul
but also the meal will never occur

a hungry and mangled existence
a hurt that never heals, for instance
a distance doesnt make you a witness
for the pain has never occurred
10/08/21
Avestani Sep 2021
The potential of disaster or perfect collision
Did we lose sight of the original mission
Are distance and status creating division?
Confidence wavers at the moment of decision
Hesitant to feel, give into the flow of unspoken words that seldom hold the feeling behind verbal contact, lost passion on the wind drifting off from our tongues and our eyes, watch the hands, does the longing drive you mad, sure of the reception knowing you'll be accepted, but both cowards at the apex not willing to indulge ourselves in the most harmless of risks, a moment, a loss, a potential bliss, knowing our worth, knowing each other, exchanging emotions as we find ourselves within each other's range but like magnets the attraction leads to repulsion, fueled by conceptual barriers constructed by the filth of the physical, calamity of humanity a fickle mind and frozen heart so much so that eagerness for light and love is masked by fear of pain and past, like walls that form between our dreams that petrify reality, the game is played until its done, until time has won, and we've never begun, but oh we dreamed of it with clarity, the love we'd have, if we were free, like the animals we are, indulging in carnality and hedonism, reject the will of civilization, concepts formed to dominate, put man above man, we could see the boundaries between us rent apart nothing more than empty words hinging on empty thoughts that mean nothing to the energy between us, a million reasons, a thousand rejections, thought if cards played right could be perfection, to bet some time, a move of faith, we could separate from the conscious of man, the weakness and lies it brings, accept the will of the spirits, immersed in the universe, heeding the call of nature we locked away in our own man made order, heeding spirits with wisdom beyond any man, creature, or beast, and see if our love was something God planned.
Avestani Sep 2021
Tell me who you wish for me to be
Ill be silent, waiting patiently
Gave up on my perfect memories
Haunted by the things you did to me
All of these faces they seem just the same
And all of these places I've watched go up in flames
Telling renditions of tragedy and shame
I'm on a mission to make it one more day

All these things
They build up in me
All these sins
They've corrupted me
Trust myself
To never trust again
Call for help
I wish I had a friend.

All of these things, they build up in me
All of these sins, they've corrupt me
Can you see, can you tell,
I am a broken soul destined for hell

Ohhh
Sunbathed, in the mornings light
When the night is gone
And the feeling that I can't contain comes around
The sheets, of my bed
seem to be, where I'll drownnnnnn

Locked inside, the tiny chamber, of my mind, I try to find, a reason to, convince myself,
I will be fine, just in due time,
Torn frommmmm, this reality
I'm still hereee, but it's not where I'm meant to beeee
Press rewind, and take a trip, though empty halls in a fractured glimpse, of passageways to yesterday's, that shaped me to who I am today, and question why, just one more time, you think that this would turn out fine

Conscious but not
Speaking but not heard
I used to flock, a sheep within the herd
Seen what it was,
The Shepard never learns
Stirring the ***
But don't expect the burn
Tearing off all of this  pretense my heart, is shackled and bound in a fence where I keep it I've seen all your crimes and misdeeds turn to secrets so trust me when I say if I loved you, just delete it.
*******.
Each and every scar on my heart seems to lead to a time and place where my trust and my faith was just wrongfully placed and at no ones fault, just seemingly t my own, Id give it all back  to never remember that home.
That home.
That face.
And those lies that we told, that once we're all true, I don't think you know, but that makes it hurt all the more.
NII OKAI MOT Apr 2021
Showing appreciation.
Saying thank you to someone who handed to you a little favor, saying thank you to someone who delivered you from your painful labor , saying thank you to someone who helped you by being your savior, saying thank you to someone who kept you and made you strong when you went wrong , saying thank you to someone who has been there for you, Saying thank you to someone who walked in whiles others walked out of your life, saying thank you to someone who offended others just to defend you, saying thank you to someone who made you whiles others destroyed you....
Just say thank you:)
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