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Karijinbba Jun 16
"I got cancer here."
My Kemah King said, pointing to his nose.

"Cancer in your nose?
Liar, I thought!
I didn't voice it!-
"I don't want you to die"
I thought, yet telepathically
my gold- heart read my mind word by word.
How I love you, adore you,
live long, healthy happy prosperous.
Hey handsome wild bird of paradise divine,
Will you cut off your long nose then hu?,
(I asked, inwardly)
Hu Handsome Pinocchio!?
It's been 50 years, how do you do?  Surely with your prosperous wealth, you are in abundant best of health care anywhere on Earth!
Beloved Kings among Sheikhs.
Perhaps joined your space ship crew towards that new found peaceful world.

Oh you rddjpc! Handsome Roddy traveler Pinocchio, of mine!

Infinite true love,

By: Karijinbba.
George Krokos May 13
What!? You say you're tired of living,
well, I think I know what you mean
as I also don't regard myself being
particularly, at all now, very keen.

The last couple of years have taken their toll on me
so much so that its become obvious for any to see.
The affairs of this world are just one thing I've considered
but what are the things I've done which haven't delivered?
Written in 2023.
A reflection on my current health condition and well being.
Do you remember when
We would walk in winter
Holding our breath in the chilling wind
Waiting to see who was the winner

Or maybe the summer skies
The fields where we hid
Isn’t it funny how time flies
Especially now that we aren’t kids

What about the ol house
The one that was condemned
Remember when you go scared of that mouse
Aren’t you glad we settled in the west end

I can still see the look you gave
That time I brought home that raggedy old car
Back when money was hard to save
Or course we never worried about setting any bars

It’s been a long time now
And each day with you feels like a thousand more
I shake my head sometimes and say wow
For how could you fall for me and not walk out the door
Francie Lynch Feb 14
If not this week,
Then next.
If not this year,
Then next.
This year.
                  Next year.
Some year.
                  Not never.

What is time? Space?
Will it matter?
Nat Lipstadt Jan 14
with an optimism misguided,
that both volume and quality
of what lay within was

a beaker that could never
be drained, nor overflow,
brimming and believed,
in the always
of a
next poem!

know better,
known worse,
and the only poems that are birthed,
all flawed, lesser,
the curse of worse,
time wrenching
the best words away,
spend, spent, sent…
it was writ as a hope,
now, a  false prophecy
and woe


Jan. 13, 2014

a  flawless poem

if such there were,
will always be,
the next one

my poor soul,
my rag tag heart
has no censor,
so careless, reckless,
as if words were but
frivolous treasures,
easy spent, easy get

if only, how I wish I
could harvest my best,
with golden cutlery excise
the single flawless poem,
that I know in my possess

lay down this hand so weary
from cupping tears,
be satisfied at long last,
so much so,
that my casket lowered,
hands in repose companioned,
clutching his best, easing his rest,
a paper record to join his ash,

his flawless poem,
at long last
flawless anniversary
Savio Fonseca Oct 2023
I'm hiding Myself,
behind this curtain of 'Rain'.
My Life, has committed Sins
and I'm now, feeling the Pain.
I'm tired of listening,
to the sound of My Tears.
They've been falling and falling,
for way too many Years.
Finally, I reached to God.
With both My Hands Folded.
He kept counting, My Sins
and in the end, had Me Scolded.
Satan stopped counting My Sins,
as they never seem to End.
He pushed a note down My Door,
"No place Here, for U My Friend"
Jellyfish Oct 2023
When I have no where left to go
I come back to this blog where I feel known.
I type for hours, and don't expect flowers
This page is comfortable, it fits my tone.

If you trace my journey from the start,
There's tears in many moments; a piece of my heart
Years may have passed, but in every part,
Words have been my solace, a work of art.

In this digital haven, where stories are sown,
I've found my refuge, a place to be shown.
Amongst kindred spirits, I've truly grown,
In pixels and text, my feelings flow
Thanks for always being here He,Po
Nomkhumbulwa Oct 2023
Twenty years ive known you,
Shocking as this sounds,
Back then I was a different person
My identity not yet found

I remember it well,
Meeting you online,
Intruiged by another culture
You were the mysterious one online!

I was obsessed with Geography
Knew every flag of the world
Spent hours staring at maps
I would never get bored

I knew I never belonged
In the land I was living then
So the atlas was an escape
From the confusion since I was ten

You spoke a different language
From the mysterious side of the world
I was fascinated by and drawn to
This different side of the world

It was an honour to meet you
I felt I was so lucky!
I now had a Russian friend
Although his English hard to comprehend

This made it just more interesting,
It showed language didnt matter
We were still able to communicate,
Even by postal letters!

I was young, insecure,
Brainwashed too at that time,
So this escape was a relief
The mysterious person online!

You temporarily rescued me
From the weirdness of my home
I dont have many fond memories
But meeting you was one

I bought a book because of you,
Called "learn Russian in 3 months"
I was drawn to the Cyrillic alphabet,
But only now 20 years on can I use it!

Russian in 3 months was hilarious,
It was never going to work
Three years yes maybe,
Thats what the title should be!

But such was your desire for English
Your skills overtook mine,
Now im surrounded by Russians,
....I wish Id learned more at the time!

By the time you came to visit
Id escaped to Scotland,
I was somehow free,
Although not yet entirely

The brain is great at deleting
Large parts of my life
But you kept all the postcards and letters
I was so surprised!

These things are like treasure,
Reminders of lost time,
Its good to regain the happy parts
And leave the rest behind

The phone call still makes me laugh
It took you so long to say each word
Even my cruel mother gave up
Trying to wait for the words

I remember the day so well
She called me to the phone
Told me theres a message
Then she left me alone!

Weird behaviour for my mother
The perplexity on her face
As she listens to the message
From a mysterious place

Now twenty years on
You've rescued me again
I got myself in a pickle
And you came up with a plan

Most people didnt care
Those I chose to tell
Except an angel, Patricia,
Her Nigerian name too long to spell

She didnt even know me
I met her through a friend
A friend from Burundi,
Now living in Scotland

In my hopeless depressing reality
Sat in a place called Gillingham,
I spoke to you most evenings
You again allowed me to escape

I looked forward to reading your writing,
Learning more about your life,
Now with your improved English
I wanted to read it all night

You knew I was desperate to leave,
And you suggested Armenia,
A country I had heard of
But shamefully only little

Meeting you in Armenia
Was the best decision by far
The best decision I had made,
Since being torn from Africa

I knew very little about it,
And yet I was ready to go!
It just shows how desperate I was
To escape from where I never planned to go

I have to say, you saved me,
If only from myself
And of course from the NHS
Who probably would have killed me

They say things happen for a reason
The universe makes a plan,
So I guess if I wasnt deported,
I might not have seen you again

You have changed my life for the better,
Although you say you dont do charity,
You even left me with your bank card,
As well as a way to make money

You may not see yourself as kind,
But that is all I see,
And I have always loved you
Ever since I was twenty :)
brandychanning Jul 2023
near three years, nearer to eclipses,
since last scribed here, been there
been loved, mistreated, done my share
of giving beatings, for the deserving,
never been any body’s biatch, no starting

men look at me, their eyes self-seducing,
a crook(ed) finger never summoned me
or any self respecting woman of valor,
with a full fist of words, a tongue sharper
than a deli slicer, if looks can ****, then
left my fair share of men on the Riviera,
the Hamptons, the Gold Coast, uptown
and way downtown where the cool kids
pretend play @ being prey hunting grownups.

ya, hear your thinking and it’s stinking,
my generated magno-electric vibes that’s
to blame, get this kids! never your fault
being whom you the actual F are, it’s their filters
that ***** their vision, their desires unbidden,
casual dispensed, thinking glory is theirs to share.

my road is not broken, there are signs even I spot,
when the man I crave is nearby, whose calm is not
couched cool, who doesn’t wear his possessions on
his sleeve, one who says adventure, yes, let’s go,
never saying when, for the only when is what both crave,
the loving of immediacy of “right now,” and add
to that pithy, my name, Brandy, acknowledging it’s
me, just me, he addresses and not some vision that
was crafted by others into an ideal,  and ‘because’ is
not sufficient but the perfect rationale, to trust what
your absent father called your “finely tuned instincts for
human finery, humans who eclipse ordinary stars

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