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  Oct 2017 Tammy M Darby
SassyJ
A void of emotional loneliness
inside the empty glasses of pain
seared in mere shudders of anger
the shatters of depressive sound

It's a birth of many experiences
closed off between the ledges
within compactification feelings
suppressed in ill-suited stimulus

The hypnosis of unknown days
married by illiterate experiences
above the complexes of linear
meaning and the flashbacks of self

It's a void of the unconsciousness
planting the senseless needs
over and under, over again
solving riddles, of past emotions
poetry is a way of talking about references of experience that makes us emotional literate....... thus expressing our authentic feelings. Don't give your future away because you have past emotional complexes.
more than a thousand
followers took to liking him
they tagged along with his
tarnished trim

the approach he used
to rope them all in
was heavy handed
of a bovver boy's spin

he accumulated them
by tactics not so nice
emailing messages which
were threatening of vice

but whence they'd
reciprocate in kind
the craven one showed
a cowardly behind

this piece is based
on factual evidence
and of its content
the writer has confidence
I liked the flowers that sat on the table under the window a while ago and they weren't you know plastic like they used to be
they were picked fresh from the garden which had been planted a year ago which was a longer while ago than I care to remember.

there's something about a vase full of blooms in a room filled with happiness,
serenity is in the colours of the blossoms I see and I suppose it
lends itself to me.
  Oct 2017 Tammy M Darby
Nat Lipstadt
all I've learned from love


<•>

for the fedora man, 10/29/17 10:34am

<•>

another song done me wrong on a Sunday morn,
so much due to do, a list not for compilation/publication,
including poems promised and weighty deadlines overdue,
for its tedium would still be lbs. heavy in weightless space

instead a lyric plucks my attention, of course beeping,
insistent chirping a chorus of, write me right now,
immédiatement dans son français de Montréal,
this is the item that needs to be list topping,
now whispering a messenger-angel name dropping
a request formal from the fedora man dressed in black

all I've learned from love,  
a listing doomed to comprehensible incompletion,
a listing to the right as new reasons in-come
constantly from the left, each heart beat a
remarkable reminder that the list grows longer

every day, the repeating seasons, proffer suggestions,
disguised as a newly revised ten commandments,
obedience to which is a wish list for
attaining grace

all I've learned from love is its duality, essential quality,
a human single cannot attain the commingling required
for the visioning a peak season of life colorful,
its sad corollary, leaves falling exposing the body bare-****** of the soul linear alone

all I've learned from love is its shining skin is an agreed upon
indefinable nature, other than we all recognize how our
definition personal exists in that Ven diagrams space where
our circles intersect, when A breaks the skin of B, creating
{A,B}

all I've learned from love is without it no matter what
somewhere inside is a desperation pocket that is
an inquisitive irritant, a brain burr, a pea under the mattress,
a high and mighty 1% of disarmament incompetence that rules the imbalanced balance of my bottom line on the top of my head

all I've learned from love that it appears on its own timetable,
in surprising trains and planes and baseball games, sitting
alone in a theater or in front of a Rubens, on crazy disastrous
first dates in foreign countries at cafes or non gender
specific bathrooms amidst alternating currents of
this is crazy and this is infinite and ever so sobering
wondrous possible


all I've learned from love is it never shoots straight,
but will always end in a holy bullseye


*Tout ce que j'ai appris de l'amour, c'est qu'elle ne tire jamais directement,
mais se terminera toujours dans une sainte bullseye
one can feel
a slight undercurrent
inside the institute
one senses it
in a degree
most acute

on the surface
all appears to be
sailing quite well
but there's somewhat
of an uneven
swell

one can detect
what's occurring
at the place
and usually one
is right onto
its trace

in a while
the one responsible
for unsettling the institute
will be given
an order to pack up
the manager's lute
  Oct 2017 Tammy M Darby
Tristan Brown
What good is pain
If I cannot feel
What good is sorrow
If I cannot apologise
What good is sadness
If I cannot cry
What good is it

How bad is hatred
If I keep it all inside
How bad is anger
If I keep it on restraint
How bad is madness
If it's all that makes me sane
How bad is it

What good is sight
If I am always in the dark
What good is sound
If I hear the worst on the inside
What good is smell
If I live in a rotten world
What good is taste
If I always choke on my words
What good is touch
If I am completely numb
What good is it

How bad is evil
If it’s too good for me
How bad is violence
If it’s my entire life
How bad is a monster
If it’s the only friend I have
How bad is it

What good is fear
If I’m only afraid of me
What good is fire
If it’s ashes are drowning me
What good is dreaming
If they are all just fantasies
What good is love
If I will always be alone
What good is death
If I’m already not alive
What good is it
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