#upgrade
{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 old,
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.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 9:24 PM UTC
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
Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC
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.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 9:53 PM UTC
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
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 6:08 AM UTC
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.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 3:04 AM UTC
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
Apr 9, 2017
Apr 9, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
'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.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
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
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
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.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC