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the magic of poetry.
is that it makes everything
beautiful.
it fills your lungs
like air.
it turns your soul
into a sky full of stars.
your heart
a field of wildflowers.
you.
into a poem.
we all eat our own tail
in the end
munching our memories
My cat is crazy
He pelts around the room
He arches his back menacingly
And his tail looks like a broom.
As he side winds towards me
He looks like a furry crab
He will come within a foot of me
Until I make a grab!
Then he's off on his assault course
Tearing round the place
He really thinks he is fierce
And gets right in my face!
If I should make a sudden move
It really is quite funny
He shoots straight up into the air
Just  like a leaping bunny!
Then as soon as he has started
His stamina lets him down
He's ready to surrender
My lovely, furry clown
<>
The sky sheds its tears
over the sea of forever griefs
salty dew eddy's
<>
The sky dries its tears
with handkerchief clouds of white
blue shines and dazzles new
<>


© Pagan Paul (22/10/16)
.
i still say hello
to the tulips in
my kitchen,

speak to the
two sunflowers
in my garden

who grew
despite
my absence

I've run out
of what little
patience I had

yell at people on
the road and tell
people to get out of
the way at the store

convinced I am
probably meant to
be alone by the way

I still say hello
to the tulips in
my kitchen,

softly touch the
two sunflowers
in my garden
and smile by
their gentle adversity
and the way they don't
respond at all.
(c) Brooke Otto 2017


what a ****** year so far.
This bed is like a coffin
With a burial each night.
I could tell you where
it all went wrong
But it wouldn't make it right.
I'm never worth
Remembering
You each showed me that.
With your pretentious self obsession
Words that always fell flat.
Each day is long and empty.
I cannot find my way,
So forgive me
Graciously
While I slowly fade away.
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