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{those donuts are three days older, that's all}


I did not buy them, there was always a Winchells
a walk from any where, free no more than 27 hours,
that's right, new donuts daily clean and reheat to fry,
takes about three hours, to fry the first batch, minutes

but during the warm up, Winchell's in LA metro, threw
all the donuts in the store at grease refresh, goes,
in the bag, for whoever gets there first, we do,
we always do, this is our Winchell's, Dennis Easy Rider,
he lived at 1312, we had 1412 N. Crescent Heights
Hopper, that's him,
what's a generational remembering, the sounds
Harley's Made then, Indians had a tone, different,
Honda's were scooter legal kid of 14, 55MPH
one passenger, no helmets, and skateboards
and whisky

Pseudovectorial spinning applied
to a two pivot pendulum pattern painting,

no sweat, in 2006, a Flashscript could doit done it

This has Mel Zalewsky
"La Papelera de Secretos" on stage, window, screen
gut to heart to brain, brain tastes the conversation,

sense minds of this demo model, has this retina
reverted to wemind and become a model reader
thunk through
to live another new day
in digital paradice as far as any mind,
any form information acting free agents, so true.

We all know we each see what we each see, so
true held… just so, for as long as we have period sets

NPC. Once deeper, fly on the wall,
not buzzing,
not bothering any body's piece
of mind, weform, many lenses on one flake
glint true choice worth value heavy mindwise

of what weform from, as lakes freeze at your touch

Mel Zalewsky
"La Papelera de Secretos"
Guardaste mis secretos:  
los poemas que arranqué del pecho  
y lancé hacia tu oscuridad.  

Esos versos torpes,  
hojas arrugadas por el llanto,  
pedazos de alma  
que terminaron en tu vientre de metal.  

Nadie supo que fuiste  
el horno donde quemé  
cartas de "siempre"
y sobres de "nunca más".  
Tus esquinas aún huelen  
a tinta derretida.  

Sepultaste las cenizas  
sin preguntar nombres.  
Ahora esos papeles  
—los que sobrevivieron al fuego—  
alumbran otras noches ajenas.  

¿Quién notaría que eres  
solo una papelera?  
Que en tu silencio  
hay más verdades  
que en todos los poemas
que aún no he publicado.  

Mel Zalewsky.

From <https://hellopoetry.com/>

"The Trash Can of Secrets"

You kept my secrets:
the poems I tore from my chest
and threw into your darkness.

Those clumsy verses,
sheets crumpled by tears,
pieces of soul
that ended up in your metal belly.

No one knew you were
the oven where I burned
letters of "always"
and envelopes of "never again."
Your corners still smell
of melted ink.

You buried the ashes
without asking names.
Now those papers
— those that survived the fire —
light up other, distant nights.

Who would notice that you are
just a trash can?
That in your silence
there are more truths
than in all the poems
I have yet to publish.
What if this is okey, we can expect translation or try, I now hope for it
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2021
I learned
The basic art of healing from
The Medical School
The Health Centers

More during observership
Time with
The Carpenters
The Plumbers
The Electricians
The Bricklayer
The Cobblers
The Potters
The Singers
The Peace Keepers
The Ecosystem

People like them
Make us believe in solutions
Transcending any problem
They all fix
What needs to be
In alignment
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Version 2, Let me learn more
Dylan Jones Aug 2019
Connect me please, I can't be alone
It's so dark without my screen
A piece of you stuffed in a pocket
A disease aimed to please

Leach the life from your host
Spread your posts, gather the likes
Between the fingers rests a drug
Without it can only be death

Powers that be create anew
Upgrade to another addiction
Eyes will dry up from the attention
You'll never be alone.
I sometimes fight with myself on how often I spend online. It's how I relax, how I sometimes work, how I feel myself. Yet a large part of me wants separation, to be out in the woods without flashing lights and the sounds of videos. Yet, we all know that there would be a phone in my pocket. You know, "just in case".
Mystic Ink Plus Jun 2019
No matter
If there is
There will

Expect nothing
That may have
Waited long
For the sun to rise
To cast light
In your life

Just breathe
Don't worry
All the best
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: What else is love, besides fuel for the life.
Mystic Ink Plus May 2019
And socially
I'm insane

All I could say
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Better Human Project ||Search a way what inspires you
Author's Note: Madness is the gateway to higher dimension. Upgrade now, be mad what you crave for. If peace and vision demands certain degree of insanity, don't choose the easy way, let the new trails guide you. And let finally that day come when you will be more proud of yourself and only you have to say is, "this is it."
Brandon Brazel May 2018
See girl? You lied through your teeth.
See girl? Right down my momma’s street.
See girl? You lie when you speak.
See girl? I’ll show you how we preach.
See girl? You shy? Man that **** is weak.
See girl? She lookin better in those jeans.
See girl? You ***** and you wreak.
See girl? I’m feelin better every week.
Don’t let someone or something bring you down, look forward, whether it’s a breakup or someone just plain out talking down on you. Be strong, it’s a fight I challenge every morning I wake.
Dhaara T Apr 2017
The way forward
From left to right
From the bottom, upwards
Version 1 to 3.0
We progress
In hope that we're improving
Enhancing
Building up
Refurbishing
Innovating
But are we, really?
We come a full circle
Only to learn
Life was never complicated
in the first place
We made it so
In our pursuit of oversimplification
Not all updates/upgrades are forward-looking, even if that is the intent.
y i k e s Jan 2016
'new year, new me'*

I won't be a new me this year.

No, I'm going to be an upgraded version of myself.

I won't become the person I always aspired to be.

No, I'm going to push myself to fix all the wrong things with me.

A prototype and a completed project.

I'm going to create a better me, not a new one.
"maybe it's not my weekend, but it's going to be my year." - All Time Low
Paramount Pawn May 2015
You were first a friend
But now a lover
You used to call me by "Hey!"
But now you call me by "Bae"
I'm still getting used to it
But I'm glad we've stepped up
Something great is happening for me,
regardless of the situations I see;
my Lord is working behind the scene
and I have been spiritually weaned.

Walking by faith and not by sight,
insures that I sleep well at night.
Happily I enter daily into His rest,
knowing that I’m divinely blessed.

I’m often filled with peace and joy,
when sacred Scriptures are employed;
with a heart of a believer’s trust,
I overcome the pain of being concussed

in all aspects of my humble existence.
Despite hardship, I’m going the distance.
Elevating faith with a spiritual upgrade,
I pray with confidence- having been swayed

by the absolute Truth of God’s holy Word.
With a poetic voice, my soul is spurred
to write Christian verses unto my Lord,
as His strength, from my spirit is poured.
.
.
.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
Mark 9:23; Acts 16:31; Jam 2:23;
Rom 15:13; Heb 4:3; John 11:40

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.

— The End —