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 May 2017 Lot
Cass
What's in a star?
 May 2017 Lot
Cass
Besides being vaporized,
We can only imagine intense light
Intense heat
As unfathomable as nothingness
Should the ability to blind be praised?
Should something matter just because it refuses to be ignored?
 May 2017 Lot
Laci
Curious
 May 2017 Lot
Laci
Crown of dandelions
Against her hair, they shine like the stars
Goddess of the night
Journey into a twilight neverland
Drunk on midnight

Tell me a secret
Invisibilites shadow
Inconstant time
Cloak of darkness

Forget forevermore
Ashes of dawn
Statue of dusk
Weary wanderer of once was

Touch me
Body like a skyline
Dreaming from a mountain top
Electric charge ecstasy
Melted freedom

Wrap me in your words
Glacial disposition
Stains of demons
Angels embrace
Linger
 May 2017 Lot
Jeff Stier
Dea Tacita
 May 2017 Lot
Jeff Stier
She comes forth
like waves slipping over
the sand
again and again
delivered from darkness
coveting the light

And light is her signature.
A conundrum.
Light erasing light.
How can this be?

I will tell you.

Light is the companion
of the dark
trips joyfully in its shadows

And this dance
weaves a potent tale
of a two-faced goddess
one face peering intently into the dark
one lit by the morning sun

Yet darkness rules the day
hastens the twilight
gives measure to the
dimming
and finally
captures the last of the light
in a sea green bottle

We are drawn into that night
valiantly
or not
weeping for lost opportunities
or not
but at the end
waltzing into the unknown

Yet I do not suppose
darkness without light
according to my theology
a life that ends in simple extinction
cannot be
it is a null set

The fundamental equations
do not permit it
nor can my simple mind
fathom such depths

So in my dotage
I repair to wine and song
to ease the pain
of these uncertainties
and then to poetry
to catalog the human condition
and leave a trace
that yet might sparkle
in the instant of my demise
Dea Tacita was a Roman goddess of the dead.  The Silent Goddess.
 May 2017 Lot
JB Claywell
Hello.

My name is Harper.

I am a mouse.

My momma hasn’t let me out of our nest very often yet.

It has only been a short time since I stopped taking
her milk.

And, even still, sometimes,
when I am frightened by
a bad dream,
or feeling very small and very alone,

I will again take some of her milk
and she will sing to me,
stroking the fur on my face and neck
while she sings.

I want to tell you about my home and my family.

My momma, my papa, my two sisters, and I
live in a neat and tidy little hole
behind the refrigerator that sits
in a warm little house.

The house belongs to five humans.

So far, the humans do not know
that we live with them.

(My papa says that they would not like it, if they knew.)

But, the humans have a cat.

And, the cat knows about us.

The cat’s name is Chauncey.

I hate him.

He scares me.

Papa doesn’t think so,
but our human family is nice.

There is a momma and a papa.
two loud boys; one older one who is
tall and thin.

The other boy is small,
but very loud.

He reminds me of the squirrels
that live in the trees near the
back of the house.

The small boy never walks,
he runs everywhere he goes.

Sometimes he jumps and jumps
for no reason at all.


The girl is in the middle.

She is usually very quiet.
I like her best.

The girl reads stories from books.
Sometimes she reads aloud,
when she does,
I sneak in to listen.

I like stories.

I don’t know much about the human momma
or
the human papa.

My papa tells me not to get too close to any of
the humans.
My papa tells me to
stay especially away from the adult humans;
to never let them see us.

I do my best to follow the rules,
to do as I am told,
but I like the human girl
very much.

The stories that she reads to herself
are full of adventures.

I do so very much like to hear her read
the adventure stories.

(I wish I could go on an adventure.)

But, I must be very, very careful.

Chauncey, the cat, likes adventure stories
too.

*


-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications
*an exercise in fiction
 May 2017 Lot
Kurt Philip Behm
With no advanced ticket,
  I pay as I go

My boarding left open
  still more things to know

The day train a local
  expresses by night

My spirit rolls inward
—next station in sight

(Highpoint North Carolina: April, 2017)
 May 2017 Lot
Lilly frost
Abduction
 May 2017 Lot
Lilly frost
It's scary after dark
The moon doesn't quite reach you
The shadows cast are all new
Footsteps echo behind
You say it is just your mind
A hand reaches out
You prepare yourself to shout
A cloth
You gag and cough
Bitter taste
You should have made haste
You fall onto the concrete
What fate will you meet
 May 2017 Lot
imnthea
****
 May 2017 Lot
imnthea
its time
time to inspire
time to acquire what is require
time to achieve that dream
its time to be my own hero
 May 2017 Lot
Jawad
Nothing saddens my heart more
Than a dog who eats my poem
And a tree that is burned down
And a cog that does not turn

Nothing saddens my heart more
Than a book that is sold cheap
And a cousin that is hurt
From the roof eager to leap

Nothing saddens my heart more
Than the earth so full of trash
And myself who is asleep
While the years moving like flash
In case you are wondering about the odd title and the unrelated lines in this poem: in the last day of National Poetry Month (NPM), valerie asks us to reuse lines from the different poems we wrote during the NPM. The result of this exercise was this poem that is like Frankenstein's Creature, a freak. If you want to know from were the different limbs (ideas) in this poem came from, please read my other poems.

Confession: I didn't use exact lines but only the topics that I was talking about in the other poems.

Here is the link to the last prompt in the NPM:
https://hellopoetry.com/blog/entry/npm-end-of-the-month/
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