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John McCafferty Sep 2020
Paddle amongst the dark
Masked shadows clasped in sharp arches
Explore your flaws to experience more
Question conceit as preachers reach deep
Shots drawn before dawn
Chasing bright sunlight gilded aside
Brought up to rise again
Our lives repeatedly warned of descent
Air still warm as we sit forlorned
Sleight of hand connections tight
Observe the signs confined in mind
Silent whispers guided from behind
Focused awe channels through us all
Do we care to share energy
Too few view the transference of form
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
daffodil Aug 2020
A crack in my mirror, right in the centre
splits my image into a thousand pieces
versions of myself never quite realised
all that I am and all that I could be
each fragment a glimpse into a path not chosen
fingers reaching out to touch the glass
dipping into the reflection, a pool of possibility
if only I could crawl through the looking glass
or break on through to the other side
would I miss this place
am I happier there
Sura Aug 2020
she was a horror movie...
but,
he was a ******* coward
who died within the first 5 minutes.
Michael A Duff Aug 2020
She is a pain killer, she took me to the highest highs

Then abruptly she said shes through and left me to die

Now in a different time in my life, old me, new wife old thoughts creep into my life

I take painkillers but they dont help the pain in my heart

I wish I knew she was a pain killer from the start... but I'd probably still follishly give her my heart
Love is a pain a killer but the painkillers dont help
Unpolished Ink Jul 2020
The months turn slowly
To allow us to reflect
This year wears a mask
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jul 2020
If ever we wish for Peace on Earth, it will only be achieved through the praxis of love. It is strange to me that all the philosophers through the ages--from Socrates through Arendt--never realized this truth and therefore never espoused it;  rather, in varying ways, they talked in political terms of all different kinds, but never evinced the emotional, the quintessential core of which is, of course, love. Just to give two, but heinous, gargantuan examples, are the centuries of slavery and genocide throughout our world, examples that make me wonder what exactly is the true nature of us as human beings. Here we are in the year 2020 and we have over 50 totalitarian nations (out of over 200) on Earth. And we have in the United States a human being in the Oval Office who is patently a racist, a liar, a cheat, a misogynist, and, in short, a criminal who cares only about himself and not a scintilla about any other human being. Love? You will not find it at the head of our present government, nor in the despotic, tyrannical, totalitarian nations that dot our globe. But love is within each of us, and can be evoked in all of us, but only by our collective will. Read, if you will, my commentary, PEACE ON EARTH THROUGH LOVE, which you can find on MEDIUM by typing in "Tod Hawks -Medium," then scrolling down to my commentary. Thank you in advance for your interest.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia ollege, Columbia Universwity, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult lifre.
Where Shelter May 2017
The Prism Through Which We See Clearly

~

light saws our untrue selves with acute angles,
piercing our holistic pretenses, daily disambiguation features,
our sheltering disguises into our essence refractive elements

this is not a cute rainbow poem - run from here

it is a dissection of our true nature
why belabor, why elaborate?

through the prism
you color-coded self, tracted,
a mapping of your intersections,
what each color speaks, needs not an explication,
your hidden humanity comes to my eyes, in full revelation

at last I see you clearly

the lost and black withered limbs,
the stirring, leaping, enflamed flaring, never ceasing, breathing elements that mark your singularity

did you know your eyes are constant singers?

through prism, each note heard distinctly, as it rises uplifted,
your song, mine for observation and weeping exhalations,
your song, the production number of thy own composition,
through prism, our interior visual disinterred and released,

here I must cease, for what seen, grievous weeping deepens,
from the glory and the pain my blurred wetness overwhelms
the clarifying crystal useless when tear coated

through the prism,
before the full length mirror,
my own, unowned, never could be owned,
'mirror mirror on the wall,'
warped weave of tissues, mine,
the song sounds, mine,
from lungs disgorged
myself, diagnosed and displayed

of what I see, spitting speech
ceases and desists,
the only thought permitted, repeated,

where is my shelter now?**


5/13/17 6:49am
Garrett Johnson Jan 2020
So Close.

You sewed your mouth.
When it rained in your head.
For what it's lived.
& what it's not.
You sickened yourself to stay home
for me.
Come see me.
& lay in this bed.
Your algorithmic speech.
Flaunted.
Sitting sweater.
Tears seducing the *****.
Its dance.
Its cry.
You to be the muse.
You to make the sigh.
Of love & relief.
& with visions so delicate.
& prompted.
You play the strings then slumber.
Kept warm under.
Passing the sound.
Around.
& around it went.
& still goes.




Garrett Johnson.
Fifth time around
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