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Narco 1d
Putrid,
Repulsive,
Disgusting;
is but human nature.

A deceitful smile brings hurt;
yet a frown brings concern.
No one is out to get you;
yet no one is there to help you.

I want to be great;
a human without hate.
Am I worth something;
worth at least a couple of glances.
Before I die, I want at least a goodbye.
Humans are horrible —
yet I crave their attention.
Just thinking about human nature
If I ever taught poets to read
the worth of knowing when
in life to pretend to know
what it is that makes
a boy become man,
the couplet
rhyming died and lied,

Here it is, my Ai had it for me…
----
Kipling, Common Form:
If any questions why we died,
Tell them, because our fathers lied.
-------------
Future ever
when the glory
of military privilege lures the young
to follow a National Pride Promotion,

-another war for holy reasons
to end all wars, if we win...
then
Common Form

that one would be read,
in all my classes,
if If were ever mentioned, as essential.

------------ a response ---- how can I say I know

----- or think, why, I know Kipling felt shame
I know I would.

I have wept with men who believed such lies.
If.
If was written at the height of the Great Game in Kim,
Jungle Book was written
for the son born during the Raj
whose eyesight exempted him

but, he was the son If addressed,
as were all his upper class mates.

John died
in his first ww1 combat
at the age
of almost 18.

What son
of the man who wrote If
would not,
confess the pressure
to join the righteous push against the Huns.

What laureled poet would not regret,
the call to courage only faith
in truth commands
-we must believe the call
to defend the faith

stiff upper lip, keep calm, carry on
taken as a lesson
from a horror, drilled deep
into any real warrior,
real men won't miss
a chance to fight...
to learn the price
of cowardice
- who can resist such urge
the charge, ours not
to reason why, ours but
to do, and die

If you can keep your head, my son…


the lie he relied -- any surviving father
would not be proud, he would grieve, just walk in his shoes.

War ought never be given glory nor honor, hate is man made.
Truth validates poetic license, but I know Kipling regretted that his son loved IF. Teacher's tasks should not be any person's first National Duty... nor should the office of President beheld by a liar, but that's the way it is, not always, just now.
The Outlet May 28
What is dreaming,
If not sweet release?
A reminder of where you're safe,
Your fears, far away.

What is dreaming,
If not reminding me,
My thoughts are impure.
Bathroom
I go in the bathroom wanting to take a shower.
I put my clothes and my feelings away to get washed.

I stand in front of the tap.
I turn it on.
Water starts pouring.

I space out.

The water becomes too hot to handle.
I turn the tap without looking —
towards the right,
because that is where the cold water is.

But then I get a thought:
No, the cold water is on the left.

I turn the tap to the left.

Then I get burned
from the water.
Im so sorry if it sounds stupid but this is one of my first tries of poetry.
Zywa May 24
Awake all night long

since I heard the door bell ring --


Anyone in need?
Poem "Visitors from Abroad" - 4 (2013, Louise Glück)

Collection "Stream"
Darkness May 23
In the darkness where my mind resides,
Demons whisper, never quiet, never kind,
They crawl in shadows, feeding on my fears,
Turning whispers into screams no one hears.

Overthinking is a tangled maze,
Thoughts like thorns, sharp and ablaze,
Every turn a deeper void I find,
Each echo louder, pulling at my mind.

Depression dances in the dim lit space,
A heavy weight I cannot trace,
It wraps around me like a cold embrace,
Sinking deeper, leaving no escape.

Demons laugh, they know my pain,
They thrive in the endless rain,
Each drop a memory I can’t erase,
Each tear a battle I can’t face.

But somewhere beyond, a faint light gleams,
A distant hope within my dreams,
Though demons linger, I still try,
For in the darkness, I learn to defy.
I could write, I won't,
The wrong faucet is turned on,
I will drought these thoughts.
Elaine C May 16
we all talk
about the now
being in the know
knowing where to go
going where we already know

where is now?
geographically, not mentally.
where must i be
to be present
presenting the PowerPoint
my life on display
is it Jakarta? berlin?
baku, beijing or dublin?

how is now served to you?
any dietary requirements to be aware of?
hot or cold? or even, lukewarm?
is it customized to your liking?
or unaltered? half cooked?
medium rare?

do you tip the server
of your now dish?
or consume it
on your genetically altered past plate
with your fragile future fork
knowing when you're done
you'll pay the bare minimum?

when you purchase your now house
and live in it with your now wife
and now kids
with a cute now dog
will you wonder who lost their now
so you could have yours?
now
Zywa May 15
Next to us, they fall

silent for a while, busy --


rewinding their thoughts.
Collection of family stories "Gezinsverpakking" ("Family package", 2024, 'De Chabotten'), story "Hier, ergens" ("Here, somewhere", Sebastiaan Chabot)

1. Re-flecting
2. For lack of topics of conversation, repeating oneself

Collection "Stall"
Jay Lewis May 12
I gaze at the time,
it's eleven fifty-nine.
I won’t sleep tonight,
when I got you on my mind.
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