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 Jan 25 Michael John
Roxy
Camus says "there's no sense in living,
And you should keep your eyes wide open"
But I'll devote my life to writing
and people, beautifully broken.
Amen, I guess
 Jan 23 Michael John
Nobody
i'm breathing fast
i'm seeing the past
things i don't want to remember
hit me like a blast

anxiety rising
breath denying
i'm hearing their words
i feel like i'm dying

their words hit me like a stab
i crunch like a crab
that they stepped on
i feel a jab

words bleed out of my chest
as i remember what i don't want to
i'm not ready
wait... just let me

try
to
forget
Because we languish
  in time--we've hardly lived
bearing the weight of living
often in moaning and grief

for the right words we struggle
in vain our very angst to relieve
in vagueness we know other people
life is the perennial lacuna-- not a gift
Joe the red ate lots of bread.
His massive gut was quite well fed.
So slow his feet, to cross the street,
that angry drivers wished him dead.
A limerick I came up with a long time ago. I’m not an expert on limericks. I just assume this is how they go.
The young have left home
lured by the city's clamour
village of elders
I sigh
you get mad
I get confuse
But apparently
My sigh
Told you
More words
Than I ever could
Is it true
most of us
don't know
our true selves?

if we were birds
we wouldn't know
we had wings-

if we were fish
we wouldn't know
we could swim-

if we were clouds
we wouldn't know
we could float-

if we were flowers
or plants, we wouldn't know
we could grow-

is it true
most of us
are partially blind
to ourselves?
Red
Someone forgot the pearl necklace today
I remember seeing a red and white skirt
the sound of the wind was strong
a floral set of earrings
As the camera rolled
a pause stood in the air
there wasn't a single cloud in the sky
the black blouse was transparent
the red on the mustang
reflected your sunshine face.
this poem
is like watching you
over and over again
 Nov 2024 Michael John
Arawyn
He looked at me,
The way the sky looks at the rain,
Waiting for patiently for the relief.
Hands intertwining around my waist like vines,
Every touch felt.
Warm lips pressed against mine that has been worn.
Heal them I say as if they have been broken so many times before.
I love you,
I love you.
Our love is inevitable.
 Jun 2024 Michael John
PERTINAX
Between the swaying boughs
Of two lonesome firs
Chirps a mother bird mocking the rising sun

“Why do you mock the coming day mother?”
Her baby chicks chirp
“Do we not need the light for warmth?
To fly?
To eat?”

“No my dearest, it is not the light I mock
But more so the rise that acts as a clock
Counting down the moments until you seek
Warmth
Flight
And food
For yourself, leaving me an empty nest
Alone, between these two lonesome firs”
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