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neth jones Mar 14
I feel so much              it’s just like good movies
hard hurt  romance and rescue               
         rage  and ostracization
it's them  it is witty they     the horn spittled gitty devils!           
they've pitted faults in my structure
                                                        to feel through
my dermis            tup-tapped and stabbed at                
    quaking ***** little jokes   at my impractical existence
i am made spongiform                     vulnerable pupation    
frogspawn                                    
      mangy food at mercy  ...

...and my pratty employment...

...but it's okay now
enamel              
i'm desensitized to it all                
         distant to the proceedings
the quirky murky readings
                   then again   sudden barks get through
jarring feedings                        
            and i am rushed with expense ...
... for a while

mused chemistry
my worth feels    peopled and oxygenated
my work cradles balanced appeal                  
creation is warm          with budgings of whim
simple commerce   with the ghosts of physical laws
                                     and a birling alchemy
Francie Lynch May 2021
She's posted a picture of her son,
Sitting on a swing I assume is moving.
I wonder how this Spring day moves him.
The sun stretching
From his head to his toes,
As he arcs to and fro.
I'll never know.
It's a picture of her son.
Does he read, write, paint, build?
I'd like to see his photography.
Perhaps a picture of his mother
Sitting on a swing;
But it's him, sitting there, still.
So many pictures.
preston Mar 2021
paulSN

There was this one bench we
used to sit on with our legs
   dangling.
Do you remember that-- how
we used to look down at our feet
as we swung them
back and forth?

I did so well--
       until I would look up at those eyes.

You said that when two people
care about each other
their feet should swing in unison.
I was too embarrassed to tell you
the truth--

   that every time I looked in your eyes
   my legs would go numb.

I tried to tell you then that
nerds weren't supposed to look
the way that you do.

Even now I look at your picture
      you left with me--

           and my legs go numb all over again.

And one more time I try to forgive myself.


Nerds aren't supposed to look like that.
It says that--

         somewhere in the manual
      it does.

                               I think.


Rollercoaster Dec 2020
I belong in the heavens
and then I'm under the ground.
I reach the clouds
and then sweep the dirt.
I'm on a rollercoaster
till the end.
Bhill Nov 2020
there once was a land that was rich with things
everything working with no broken swings
about 4 years ago it started to fail
the spirit of the nation was turning quite pale
some thought it was good and just went along
others were appalled and knew it was wrong
what was the reason many of us asked
it appears that our rights are questioned and tasked
we rambled about and fought from within
losing some friends and a few of our kin
we need this to change we said in a vote
but the man at the top, he started to gloat
he ate up the laws and turned into a grinch
casting people about and not giving an inch
we elected in another to take on the task
to cast the grinch out and peel off his mask
well grinch wouldn't budge and sent out his saps
to alter results and further the collapse
what do we do, can we take on more ****
I for one am just done, and the grinch has to quit....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 319
The fire ignites at take-off
And grows as I exit the stratosphere.
But it burns even hotter upon re-entry.
I am often at my brightest right before
A crash landing.
Cross Boundry Sep 2020
two swings, back and forth
a lovely rhythm of our feet scraping the ground
in opposition of each other
a pair in matching metal screeches
the eroded dips beneath us damp with rain.

the sun decides to leave us be
the clouds threatening to dampen us like the mulch
that finds it way into our shoes,
the wind picks up, pushing us higher
than we ought to be.

my hands find the chains
cold against my calloused skin
I brace myself against them, the swing out of my control
your hands find mine, you slow me down
my eyes are pressed shut.
hello, brother dearest
Eva B May 2020
That bird's song is a rusty swing set--
a girl meeting the sky with her toes.
Alaska Mar 2020
it was the night we got high off of our youth
we soared through the sweet strawberry sunset
we didn’t talk
we didn’t have to
it was just me and you on a wednesday night
forgetting the world
and at last,
being at ease.
i love you more than i care to express.
Greg Muller Feb 2020
Metallic hinges squeaked and then squawked
Single sliced rubber seat swung under a lime green bar.
An adolescent boy. Bemoaning his brother’s turn.
Heave, **. Swinging hard.
Capturing the tops of trees.
Leaning a few feet off the ground returning once more with fast pace.
Rose-colored cheeks, squinted,
One tear then two, until both cheeks puffed
Runway skids in the wood chips. Cruised him to a halt.
Sniffles, and tears were handled
Hand in hand
They were scripted together for life.
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