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Mrs Timetable Oct 2020
By the power of suggestion
Vested in me
I now pronounce you
Commercial advertisement
First U.S. commercial July 1, 1941 for Bulova Watch  co. $9 for the 10 sec ad and from what I could tell $29 for the watch.
Spriha Kant Jul 2020
Shedding tears and laughing in her memories is a movie watched on loop by me.

Story of granny about the deceased shining as a star is the force driving me into asking all stars the reason for her deviation from the path of her promise of never leaving me alone.

Silences are her replies if she really exists in any of the stars.
Silhouttes of dark circles under my eyes is the waiting for her reply.

Her betrayal is a fire and I'm its victim.
©Spriha Kant
Nigdaw Jul 2020
everywhere I go
there is time
on my computer
via internet
on the radio marked
hour by hour
by DJ’s with nothing better
to do than spin three minute tunes
on my alarm clock
on all the clocks
in all the rooms in my house
on the cooker
in my car
on my phone
time is everywhere
except with me
sometimes I have to escape
and forget it exists
slowly and quietly
eroding my life
marking my days
sometimes I just want to be late
as though it doesn’t matter
and nobody minds
Remember those nights
When we were close.
All the trouble to you, I cause.
We had All the fun and watched many shows.
I miss those the most when you giving me  romantically rose.
You are the best thing that happened to me you know.
Maniacal Escape Jun 2020
Grind against the stain of your hammer
The smile of blood judges your tools
Feel the wrath of an angels stare
As you tootle off home, his blessed wings stretched
In jest as they decompose and crumble. You did your job marvellously military man
Amanda Hawk Jul 2020
Quite simply
I don’t care
lingering here
I stay, not listening
watching the world fall
I wear apathy nicely
it hangs right upon shoulders
and let the day build up
piling up around me
enjoy a cigarette
as I watch everything decay
Aleka Jun 2020
Time flies fast,
like a little bird,
swinging trough the sky,
never looking back.

Time is forever,
but never do you realise in time
that the present is not present anymore,
but is now past.

Time melts in my hands,
slipping trough my fingers,
only remaining the everlasting trace of memory,
staining every little crevice of my hands.

But memory,
memory remains,
persistently present in your mind,
always haunting every little image,
and every little thought.
This is a class assessment I really enjoyed, based on the painting The Persistence Of Memory by Salvador Dalí.
Ileana Amara May 2020
never spit and dance
on the graveyard of a sheep,
who knows if it is an old clothing
of a wolf on watch.

IA
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