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annh Sep 26
“The conflict at the moment,
Is you're literally,
One tweet away,
From the market being down,
5 per cent.”
My day routinely starts with a quick whip through the AFR, and this line caught my eye. Not my usual kinda post and by no means poetic, but there you go.

'As the impeachment movement picks up, Trump will counterpunch. He's shaping up as a master politician and markets don't like that.'
- Greg Bundy, FAM Chairman
ah Mimi
a Maio
'n' thier
Mazatlán post
card but
a Zapatista
de Chippas
si hombre
a pilgrim
this river
has crossed
in the
arms of
Creole but
women in
Porte Inglés
still swim
Horace Silver -Cape Verdin Blues
My ancestors ran
Thats why I'm not American, or British, or Jamaican.
it's because, they ran.
Away from the slave traders
away from the greedy chiefs who clinged glass with the slave traders.
They ran...
That's why I'm sitting on hard bench with no money and wallet
That's why i will go home after writing this poem to no electricity
and no water
and no polony.

My ancestors ran,
that's why I'm a coward and I'm alive today.
Because great great great grandfather slept in a cave instead of die in a slaveship.
Great Great great grandfather would have won the marathon.
Great great great grandfather is a hero
because he ran.
Äŧül Sep 6
We used to invite you,
Come September, Come.

But now we wait for you to end,
As the wounds you gave still bleed.

What we lost in your days is life,
More than life, we lost our love.

We remember New York,
We remember Munich.

So please hear our plea,
End September, End.
My HP Poem #1766
©Atul Kaushal
Dinner on the 13th floor.
Traded a life with a kiss on the cheek.
A tree held the rope for me,
As I traded the life back.

I was number 13,
Of the 12.
Seanathon Jun 27
I'll trade you

The warm breath of this night in June
To be replaced by the warming breath of you
Just below your fine and fearsome eyes
In such a heartbeat I could be satisfied

I'll trade you
Sounds fair to me. Just an abundance of June nights. (;
Karen M Jun 26
Owning a cat relies on give and take.
I give the beans a tiny squeeze and
she takes a chunk of my skin.
I love her but oh my gosh my arms are littered in little scars.
Michael H May 25
A fiery *****
She knows to trade
She wants to grow
Extreme havoc
Follows her wake
Beginning to suffuse
A relationship with honor
Sustainable fixings
An eternal gift
The purity of a partner,
With emotions
The wave of the divine
Tonight I traded my sleep.
Not for a meal or precious gem,
but to spend the night bleeding ink.
Unlike insomnia, I shunned sleep
when she needed to nest in my head.
sleep came early, I just wasn't ready.
A quick view in the hand mirror,
confirmed I looked a retired drunk.
But yet my weary eyes paid no heed.
I sat with transfixed watery eyes,
seriously glued to my laptop's screen.
With Several drunken-like nods,
and series of clumsy near falls,
sleep crept back from whence it came.
So the products of a sleepless night,
are these lines bled from my ink.

Anybody else ?
A Simillacrum Mar 31
I can rewire
everything about myself.
I can reshape
every facet to fit your pieces,
but why would I?
I'll tell you. I forget my worth.
Did I ever have worth, anyway?
Did you ever hold it, either,
to be fair. What's anyone worth?

I can rewire
every aspect and affect.
I can reshape
every facet to fit your tropes,
but why would I,
when you don't seem to fit my soul?
Can you ever change that? You can.
I know it full well. I know it first
hand. It hasn't been worth it.

What's the weight of a goodbye,
when tasked to tell someone you love?

What's the weight of a sharp knife,
when used to cut tangential lines?

What's the wait on a goodbye,
when its utterance will free you?
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