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by Michael R. Burch

(for the victims and survivors of 9/11 and their families)

In truth, we do not feel the horror
of the survivors,
but what passes for horror:

a shiver of “empathy.”

We too are “survivors,”
if to survive is to snap back
from the sight of death

like a turtle retracting its neck.

Published by The HyperTexts, Gostinaya (Russia), Ulita (Russia), Promosaik(Germany), The Night Genre Project and Muddy Chevy; also turned into a YouTube video by Lillian Y. Wong. Keywords: survivors, victims, families, 911, 9/11, terrorist, attack, terrorism, empathy, sympathy, truth, horror, death, survive, survival
by Michael R. Burch

I am besieged with kindnesses;
sometimes I laugh,
delighted for a moment,
then resume
the more seemly occupation of my craft.

I do not taste the candies;
the perfume
of roses is uplifted
in a draft
that vanishes into the ceiling’s fans

that spin like old propellers
till the room
is full of ghostly bits of yarn ...
My task
is not to knit,

but not to end too soon.

This is a poem for the survivors of 9–11 whose families lost loved ones in the terrorist attacks. Keywords: 911, survivors, victims, first, responders, passengers, firemen, police, heroes, terrorist, attacks, World Trade Center, Flight 93, Pentagon, White House
In a crispy ocean-blue land. 
They live in a paranoid narcissism tent.
One who was pointing at a chest of tools,
the others eyes were on a no soul weakling metal.

Can't they hear an echo curse?  
Robots robbing rich robbers.
Would artist gods and goddesses, 
lead to terror terrifying terrorists?

Can they share a platform
to unleash gifts and power?
Was there a fizzy dizzy violet haze?
Where they dance and dive  

Would mint hue bubbles squeak?
When the world’s head spins 
Shall we see coins in change?
Any day it spins and bubbles.

Have you seen a quiet girl
with a sinister smile,
she, siren of mystery of the future
Mirror mirror,
there is a robot in your mirror
Filter filter,
where was a peach chin fighter?
When no innocence against glitter litter 
Guilty until proven later.

Have you seen a quiet girl as a terrorist?
Blurred errors mouth haste terror twist
If terrorist from the ancient,
they hide in between every end.
Attempted ****** as problem solver.

A true storyteller can’t tell us a part
From her crooked eyes
HK warning tears burst.
Bubbles heated never anchor
Restart will never reach to a real world.

Robot with or without soul
Hero magic twist with terrorists.
No soul knows no harm no fail,
Will memory tattoos identify you?!
By Angel.XJ 06/12/2019
Wayne Wysocki Oct 2019
al-Baghdadi dead
Donald Trump proudly boasting
ISIS regrouping
Copyright © 2019 Wayne Wysocki
Peter Balkus Sep 2018
They call him racist,


monster, not a man.

They call him bad guy
he is better than them.
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2018
Give nife to bed people
they will ****.
Give it to good people
they will save people.
Brandon Conway Aug 2018

One tower falling
We all gazed, boss yells at us
"Get back to work!" CRASH!
Trying to combine dark comedy into haikus.
Nigel Finn Jul 2018
If I told you about the fifty mile trek I took,
with ice accumulating on my beard,
and shivering to sleep in the tiny hollow,
would you believe me?

What about the time they thought I was a terrorist
trying to assassinate the queen?
Or the time they took everything away from me;
my clothes, my hair, even my name?
Would you read it as fiction?

"That kind of thing doesn't really happen" you might say,
and I no longer care to argue my case anymore.
as you explain to me how, in a modern day society,
these kind of things things really work.

I wonder whether I should care,
as I nod dumbly to your every point,
telling me why you know, definitively,
that I am lying.

This is why my poetry shall refer only to emotions.
Nobody reads emotion as fiction;
you can feel it as they tug at your own-
A broken heart, a smile, a stray giggle.

Whether I made that journey is no business but my own,
but the cold I can describe perfectly;
Not biting, but stinging, and numb in every other sense.
The fear giving way to tears, which froze on my cheeks.

Besides, if this really is fiction, if I had really
made all of it up inside of my head,
would I still lie to you?
Of course I would.
Certain people sometimes say sharing their emotions is difficult and, while this may be true, very few people will deny how a person feels when they express themselves. Sharing details of certain experiences, however, is far more likely to taken with a pinch of salt. I don't much care for it in most instances.
Peter Balkus Mar 2018
Would you
swap yourself
for a hostage,
that you may die
and that there may be
no reward,
no Heaven,
no afterlife?
Would you?
Would I?
Would anyone?
Poem inspired by Col. Arnaud Beltrame, French hero officer who swapped himself for hostage and sadly died in a terrorist attack on a supermarket in Avranches, western France, yesterday. R.I.P.
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