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Carlo C Gomez Feb 12
~
She is not our shrine,
she prays differently
with eyes wide open,
fingers on votive offerings,
preferring her solitude
in the Tea Garden, drinking light

Tomorrow on the tarmac
one flowered suitcase,
stamped for the city of neon people,
will travel to her song,
the pilgrimage of anemic lovers

Her hoisting from water,
(ampullae in hand),
and the unique boutique
growing out of
an alabaster chamber
bring monks out of hiding

The center line of her,
where the flower blooms forth
and learns by observation,
is still an unvisited temple

Until in season of calligraphy,
when she releases the Kogai
from her hair and sits with friendly toes
outstretched in the warm intimacy of
shared water

~
every time
i speak my own
name i taste
the blood of
my mother's bit
lip (&) held tongue-- a self shed
to take rein

o' my father's flatiron
sur/name:
the blood, reigned (&)
i remain—
sanguine & ruddy
after all
(these broods).
thoughts on immigration, identity, class & patriarchy.
Ace Jun 2023
i am not
my mother’s daughter

she is horselike
she is free
she is constant and steady
she is strong

i am
          a rabbit
     i am

          scattered
     imprisoned

               trapped

          i freed myself
     i’ll never look back again
based loosely on the jong family in the joy luck club
David Hilburn Jun 2023
Powers of side-ways laughs...
Kick of light into a searched for kiss
Make and meant, are we a hopeful hath?
Sure, the toil of adding ourselves, to a heart to miss?

Suddenness
And the game of can't and won't
Wished for a friend in hollow limelight, a ridiculing guest?
The taken hiss, for a wishful smile; arduous but don't...

How, or wisdom?
Or, the tale of significance
With a moment to share even kind, to these we dumb?
But a shadow of history is a muse to the light, we sense...

Any and all, to a thing of since, we are to be...
In the hands of deference, where one more step is a being
Hour, to which selfish is a range of voice, in all anarchy
We save a friends time with sour regrets, in the name of simply seeing

Martyrs of deliberate quote and silence from a boat...
Together they make a notion, to tell the truth...
West with a capable soul, the tale has become a superior love...
Argued by you and me, see the head for simplicity, that is youth...
When sight is a raging storm with nowhere to go, its up to yet and its bother, together to know what to do next...
Anais Vionet May 2023
I snuck into the party with an ID I hastily made
and stumbled, out of step, into the poetry parade.

In this beautiful country club, I'm surrounded by my betters.
I wave my kindergarten rhymes to show the men of letters.

In the echo of the learned men who came this way before me
I hear the patterned minuets, that if followed, lead to glory.

I chafe in those traveled ruts and I long for something varied
and I hope to spark a unique verse, between school and the cemetery.
Zywa Apr 2023
Everything changes,

people often slow it down --


with their traditions.
Novel "Het Bureau - Afgang" ("The Office - Failure", 2000, Han Voskuil), page 481

Collection "Not too bad [1974-1989]"
To many people of the world, Africa is often seen
Through a narrow lens, a filtered screen
As a place of poverty, starvation and disease
Of famine, drought, and misery
But this is only one side of the story
Most people say this out of ignorance, I’m sorry
Africa is a land of great diversity
Of vibrant cultures, of ancient traditions
Of beauty, of art, of peace
Yes, we have our challenges, it's true
But we are a people of strength, of resilience, of hope
From Algeria in the north, where ancient ruins abound
To Zimbabwe in the south, where Victoria Falls resound
Senegal is where the vibrant West African culture comes alive
And in Seychelles, the archipelago's beaches and nature are a perfect vibe
Sierra Leone has the beautiful beaches of Freetown
While Egypt has the Pyramids and other awe-inspiring sculptures
Mauritius is a paradise island, with virg*n beaches and luxury resorts
From the rainforests of the
Congo to the beaches of Cape Town
From Bijilo Forest Park in the Gambia
To the Kragga Kamma Game Reserve in South Africa
From Ghana to Nigeria, who regularly argue over which country
Makes the best Jollof, fufu and afrobeat
But the bond is as close as Arnold Schwarzenegger and guns – big guns
Look at Africa with a broader lens
And behold, you find the flawlessly faultless
The continent of countries, of tribes, of peoples
Each with its own history, its own voice, its own dreams
Its own richness of traditions, the diversity of their languages
And the beauty of their cultures
Let us dismiss the delusions
Of a continent that is backward, primitive, and poor
For Africa is a land of great potential
Of food that is spicy, soulful and sweet
Dance that is enthusiastic, energetic, and expressive
Where the earth is rich with resources untold
In doing so, we will break down the barriers
And create a world that is truly inclusive
For Africa is not a place of darkness
But a place of light, of hope, of opportunity
Africa is not a place of pity
But a place of power and pride
We are the children of a proud continent
Where the sun rises and sets with a sizzling splendor
Making it a place where every day is summer
Descovia Nov 2022
The day of the year
From past times, where we
traditionally commemorated the deceased.
Where witches, ghouls, and minons are
Participating in the festivities  
Deciding between tricks and treats.
The night filled with mystery, magic and superstition
A character from disney or nickelodeon
Might, go to extremes just to get your attention.
BOO.
Gotcha!
Happy Halloween
Zywa Sep 2022
I have a store full
of old things, it is difficult
to ensure

that they are not sold
to snobs with no idea
of their real value

without the slightest idea
that it cannot be expressed
in their money

only in tax money, annually
to be collected for maintenance
and everything that comes with it

to have the works viewed
by those who are interested
and that can be anyone

which is hard to accept
for barbarians who get rich
from constant replacement
Collection "Lilith's Powers" #74
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2022
~
Poor deluded brute
he waves his sword
in orchestration
to a ruthless symphony
played for miserable centuries:
the running of the bulls
"sketches of pain"
some monsters come
decked out in hat and cape
inside the arena of his pride
where he hears the chant
within the arts of
cowardice and cruelty
where he envisions
the feathered crown

Gala! Gala!
"how to see the toreador"
lost as San Fermín
pricked by hairpin
pierced by ragged horn
suerte de la muerte (luck of death)
foreshadowing Hemingway
turns into the troubled sun
and underneath his muleta
a deep red
blood alchemy
his fame spilling out
in drips and drabs
as the crowd sings
'Pobre de Mí (Poor Me)'
to the mystic stab of church bells

~
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