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All Worlds are Made Up Worlds
Herring gulls and tourist boards
and the pleats of portrayal
All things are treats to the senses
communication in bleats and bloats
and we make scientific entries
We soak out each other
uncreating the darkness
webbing out fractures
with our blue markers
All for the idea of sharing
A shared world
but don't forget
that it is just an idea
All worlds are made up worlds
caring tides and caddisfly
and the teats of the new revival
the breaking of bread
the friction in bed
and meat for our survival
it's been cold out for days
but brighter than an eyeful
care of what's underfoot
crawl to prevent the sky fall
a witch reaches us and we do as we are scolded
we believe now
in gossip told and not in what we hold
All worlds are made up worlds
and that's all that we have time for...
Jo Swan 4d
Mum plays a game of hide and seek!
A dangerous game of survival
Where she can not show she is weak,
Even though there’s blood on saliva.
She carries me to a safe house
to flee from an abusive spouse.

In her arms, I sense her despair
For we live in uncertainty.
Must this be the burden we bare?
Always running in urgency
to avoid mum being a battered wife.
Must this be the game of our life
When we play hide and seek!

(c) Jo Swan
My palm tuned into a fist.
With it, I hold a baby's screams,
And all the world's deaths.
My body turned into an armor.
With it, I guard a mother's life,
And the milk, coming out of her *******.
The only chance of survival,
In the middle of the chaos.
My hopes turned into mist,
With it, I blinde murderous enemies,
And,our end. It won't find its ways.
My shirt turned to a flag of surrender.
A torn-apart one, to save torn-apart lives.

Hand over your anger,
Let me ignite the cannonball.
Pour out your teara,
Let the floods begin.

Crosses carried distorted bodies,
Ones with missing hands,
Ones with missing heads,
Ones with missing legs,
But what they all shared,
Is missing souls.

forced them to surrender.
To save what's left of their memories,
Before they become a memory,
With fellow millions another.

When they look into their reflection,
They see what is left undead,
But they don't see the soul,
That will never again be fixed.
Closer to life they got,
But further of themselves felt.

A chess board they inhabited,
But they weren't a part of it,
Soldiers died. So did the two kings.
But they paid for a fight that's not theirs.

A song, I heard.
They sang an idle song, for those,
Whose souls left their bodies empty,
And left free,
In they space, that might contain,
Their former life's misery.
To a clavery, they headed, bleeding,
How many more springs will be granted.
Springs where seeds and flowers are planted.
How long will the filthy rain sustain the vigor
Of tender shoots so green and innocently eager.
We spew out human seed to take root on earth,
Lessening its space, its value and its worth.
How long until we are world of ants scurrying,
Everything trampled by the constant hurrying.
We have chipped the beauty away into rows
of ticky-tacky houses where nothing grows.
Where are the jungles, the forest primeval.
Not now but air and water that are lethal.
Oh, mourn the earth of beauteous expanse.
Now no beauty can be found with a glance.
Mayhaps we will survive - but maybe not. . .
between progress and the lessons taught.
Sleep well sweet Earth, beautiful orb.
I am an environmentalist and try to work for that through my art.
R T Dawn Nov 5

Happiness is;
driving for an hour,

running out of cigarettes,

pulling into a gas station,

realizing you left your wallet at home,
breaking down in your car,

pummeling the steering wheel,

screaming your lungs out,

gasping for breath as you cry,

wondering when you’ll catch a break,
begging the universe for a sign

and just as you’re about to lose it
finding a $10 bill
poking out from under the floor mat.

It’s buying that pack.


Happiness is;

it’s laughing like a madman,

because you know it’s truly okay,
happiness is throwing that pack away,
because you don’t need it anymore,

it’s smiling on the drive back.

When your heart is broken,
happiness is whatever you make it
and whatever you need it to be.
campbell Nov 4
I have began to have so many good days that I forget the bad.
But when the bad days begin to ebb and flow back to shore,
I can feel the currents of a tsunami.

I stand on top of the tallest building
as I watch the wave rush in,
the force nature taking demolishing my sanctuary.
My progress.
My safety.
My recovery.
I watch as all of it fades away.

And then it recedes,
leaving a broken, ****** mess in it's wake .

It's a mess
that I will have to clean up.
Stereo Joy Nov 2
You’d think that when your life flashes right in front of your eyes
That it would be just that

A flash

But no, it goes on longer
Longer that the flash of the headlights that had almost hit you
Longer than the short life you’ve lived thus far
Long enough to teach you that you haven’t taken life in your direction

“Choose the ones you love”
“Choose your future”
“Choose life”

The ******’s monologue in its theatrical delivery pulled you out of the anxiety
So you drive home
Physically unharmed
Emotionally rewired

Choose life
Suppose I’ll have to change it?
I was almost hit this night by a drunk driver. Thank **** a collision was avoided.
R T Dawn Nov 1
Good men starve in packs,
and the wicked dine alone.
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