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William A Gibson Jun 2023
your crackling, humming streetlight
bending bright and blue
I’ve never known a eye
to burn as hot as you

I've cut this trail in whiskey
I've lost an ugly war
you cut your beam against me
you cast my losing score

the bottle knows it’s shattered
it's fragments spark the ground
what else could you uncover?
all bodies have been found

I gave you my confessions
your file on me complete
you have no rope to hang me
or bind my hands and feet

I'll always find the shadow
then steal another day
your judgement fades in twilight
your flame is washed away
Nigdaw Apr 2023
I take the tray from her lap
evening over
blinds drawn to darkening skies
we have weathered
the fury of another day
she sleeps, and I will have to
wake her to go to bed
those rosy coloured dreams
when our bodies and minds
were young and naïve
have caved in to reality
travellers on an epic journey
we have survived so far
who knows what lies around
the next corner
for now I'm happy to do
the washing up
tomorrow can wait in the wings
Andy Chunn Mar 2023
All at once I understood
Because I heard the sound
Coming from the distant woods
Dogs yapping just like hounds

Endless barking on the path
Fearlessly chasing prey
Guided by no words or math
Howling to show the way

I could not help but wonder
Just how this chase would end
Keeping hope that no blunder
Listening with my friend

Mighty canines came in sight
Not one was resting still
One path only would be right
Perhaps their fate to seal

Quitting was not thought of now
Resting would not be sought
Simple instincts show us how
The troubled victim’s caught

Under thick, and captured quick
Victim of the tracking
Wounded dogs begin to lick
Xenial copse lacking

You know now the race is done
Zapped, resting in the sun
Abecedarian form
Haven't even shed Crocodile tears
Calloused feet and scaled back,
the tear and wear.

Biting wildly and deeply into what feeds me
That desperation is the toll it has me in a death roll
This whirlwind of drip grit and flames; while spinning in the mud I can have no shame.

My pride deluded me to think of myself as an ancient king of lakes and streams.
Watering holes or beachfront property
On a sunny day, my kind knows harmony
We only know war At the movement of opportunity.
A Petty precarious peace treaty:
Survival of the fitness; closed mouths don't get fed
Survival instinct; if you don't eat you'll be the one who loses an arm and a leg

How can I even shed Crocodile tears
When I've become the dread
Adapting or remembering. Was it the blood in my veins or the blood that's washed These eyes.
Zywa Mar 2023
The gull does not flee

from their stench, no, it attacks --


them: the garbage bags.
Collection "Bruises"
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2022
~
Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence.

Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin.

While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see?

In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas.

So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.

~
M Vogel Dec 2022

I was shovelling drifted snow outside  today
and was overcome  again
by the warmth of that  beautiful,
   deep feeling.

You may never understand
the need to push through the mundane
and into the deep,  central Core
of the one you care most about.
    For you,
in your current world, that is not attainable..
but for me..  looking at you..

I know you very much have that  deeply-gorgeous,
extremely worthwhile attainability in you.

Without connecting deeply with one such as you,
I would just be sliding superficially along the surface
throughout this entire 'life' here..

Knowing there is a whole world of untapped closeness
lying just under the status-quo
of the normal 'everyday' operating level.

That is not saying we would necessarily  be ******

       at all

   It just means that there is,  sadly
   such a huge amount of giving up  of the Beautiful
   in order to continue on skating along the surface.

That is why I do what I do, and say the things I say
   late at night.
During the day, I am operating  
out there on the "everyday" level.
At night,  I am connecting into the unfathomable depths
of the most lusciously-beautiful gold mine I have ever known.
I can't do the "surface" thing with you, Young-love..
    In fact..  I won't.  

You get that in your marriage,
and pretty much everywhere else around you.
I refuse to be a part of that tremendously sad list.

You will never not be that deeply luscious gold mine..
You will never not be fully worthy of the attempt.

You want to be left alone.

  
      .. ok.



..And as you cross the wilderness
spinning in your emptiness
--if you have to,  Pray..

looking for a sign, that the Universal Mind
has written you into the Passion play

And as you cross the circle line
well, the ice wall creaks behind;
  you're a rabbit on the run.
(..and the Silver splinters fly
in the corner of your eye
shining in the setting sun)

Well, do you ever get the feeling
that the story's too **** real

   and in the present tense?

..Or that everybody's on the stage
and it seems like you're the only
person sitting in the audience?

https://youtu.be/hhXpGRJQV4Y

Ah, Babe..

Zywa Dec 2022
A little flower,

delicate between sharp stones --


that's what life feels like.
"tuimelaar" ("bottlenose dolphin", 2008, Rozalie Hirs)

Collection "Willegos"
Steve Page Dec 2022
The panic speaks
eloquently and persistently,
telling me that I need a new filter
by which to drink in, to inhale
the good
and like an extreme diver, hold it in
while exploring the dark places.

You see,
the panic we feel on the surface
only serves to take us down,
while it denies us the means of rising again.

But if I can learn to pause,
to take in the good,
the wholesome, the nutritional,
then I can ready myself
to face the dark
and, having done so,
I will find the light again.
Listening to a therapist
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