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I smelt their blood like
A cloud of ash in the air;
Dreadfully trying to hide their faces
With a pale mask- a thinly made veil,
To urgently curtain over their enigmas

Still, I could see straight through them all;
And the sight of them charred my eyes,
Leaving my mind in an ashtray-
As by tiny little spurs; a question
Of passion was ignited:

If I could ever be a voice to these people-
A people who themselves were so lost
My words to them are yet to be found;

Oh, how to find that which is lost…
Is to understand the pain parallel to such
A terrible grief in itself…
I must lose something myself.
Jeremy Betts Apr 17
I'm tired of fighting for a we that you don't seem to ever be in the mood to fight for deep in your core
I'm tired of working on a we just to have me thrown in my face till I surrender and hit the floor
I'm tired of having to be perfect in order for me to be worth you sticking around for
I'm tired of being in a single topic argument just to have you bring in dozens from the way back store
I'm tired of being held fully responsible for these issues I have but am not even remotely responsible for
I'm tired of working on us issues just for you to shrug them off 'cause I have so many more
I need you to want me to be part of your we, otherwise what the fuuck are we struggling through this fire for?
I'll be waiting for your answer by the exit gate but only for a couple minutes more

©2024
Mark Wanless Feb 25
i am small knowledge
person yet i see the whole
universe as we
Ruhani May 2023
WE
'You' and 'Me'
walking together,
side by side,
but not as 'WE'
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2023
yes, in full possessive of all the typical, ****** wearing-out diminishments and diminutions

so no surprises, that I’m squinting to see my own personal
street signs two blocks ahead, in case a dreaded left turn be
required

I hear eventually what your thinking, by the second, third rep, I am fully informed of your opinion and am left wondering why people blather rather than win some, with  
a winsome smile

but it  catches me unaware that my voice, (its tones, notions,and colorations) is softer, though not purposed or so intentioned,this is puzzling, so wrestle for the whys, as is my wont, for explicating my existence be my full time employment and time is  overly plentiful and it’s steady evaporation is not the diet I am needing or even
embracing

perhaps, (always a multi-perhaps), mine aging grants an edge-softening, the brain regulates away the shouting urgency of what seemed important, demandy &needy for immediate attention, has a natural implant subtly started subtracting and governs my always was voluble but less-than-valuable insistence to be heard above the raucous din of the world~is~ending~
scarecrows

perhaps, it is something simple physic, but I deny that
escapism excuse, for yet, my bellyful laughter still loudest I know especially, at the ironical, comical of my mirror image rightly making fun of my vanity and even yet today, on a busy city street my senior YO! still summons taxis  to appear from
blocks away

perhaps, he flatters himself, his soon to be required stick will be so big, the need to speak softly intuitively concomitant, but that’s a lie as  he has no stick as of yet, ‘cept for the one he himself, he hisself, penetrated & perpetrated up his own ****

perhaps, just the intuitive or learned wisdom to think slower, talk lower, excise the waste of haste that plagues  the modern life, all that quiet, buttery yet uncool logic persuasion triumphs over the no-reasoned- shouting-pretense to be everybody’s exercised right
to be stupid

so many possible perhaps that this  listing is making me too, 
list to one side; perhaps, the list is so lengthy it requires a conservation of energy, and sotto voce approach to the so-much-of-everything
yet unanswered,

but perhaps,
I  just have less to say and
it comes out of me,
softer and wiser…ha!

perhaps, time has worn me down into a…
**a modulated man
Sat Apr 16 2023
nyc
Mark Wanless Jan 2022
there are no exits
but the ones we do create
this here is just now
Solaluna Dec 2021
One drunken night,
We confessed our love,
Under the skylight,
Like it's all we have.

The moon was there,
Our only source of light.
The witness of our love,
Is one majestic satellite.

Dazzling were your eyes,
Amidst the darkness of night.
Let's stay here for a while,
For "we"  just feels so right.
After writing this piece a storyline suddenly popped into mind and I'm contemplating if I should do it because I'm bad at writing filler scenes or casual conversations uwu.  A penny for your thoughts?
Mark Wanless Aug 2021
perfume created
to cover up stink and we
smell only surface
hazem al jaber Jul 2021
We will ...

we will meet sweetheart ...
my lovely angel ...
we will meet ...
to live love ...
to make our feelings ...
as we both feel ..
to get heart quenched ...
to make it fresh ...
loving again ...
and the whole ...
of our bodies ...
from this love ...
splendor of love ...
that we both live ...
as ever morning we do ...

yes angel mine ...
we will do a meet ...
to dance both ...
as a happily lovers ...
by an insane craving body...
on our heart's beats ...
there ...
on the shores of love ...
as the dream draws us ...
on that night ...
while the moonlight ...
witness on our love ...
and watched us ...

we will meet ...
my love ...
over there ...
at the place ...
where we dug  ...
at that tree ...
our names ...
by hearts ...
within souls ...
on that meeting ...
that first meet ...

we will do again ...
we will meet ...

hazem al ...
Mark Wanless Jul 2021
we all can truly
die defending our true mind
the grass is so green
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