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 Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
Unknown
its 4:30 am...
im awake thinking, living, and breathing...
but somethings different..

my heart... its breaking,aching and shaking...
all because of a guy..

my minds racing, chasing, and raising..
all the problems of my life..

and im slowly fading, wasting, and breaking..
because i dont know who i am..

not anymore...



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
What ails thee, pilgrim of the mall,
Silent, earthen grief of the fall,
Pushing beneath her branded mask
A chariot to manage her task?

A writ of habeas corpus on paper:
'"Garden rocket," "lamp," and "mirror"'
For your inward eye and the terror
Of the still blast of oldhood and time
That left you with no place but rhyme -
And the mall.
What ails thee, woman of language
And the fall?

© LazharBouazzi
 Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
everly
she had the eyes of a venus fly trap
my looks didnt matter to her
she was decadent..ever so gracious yet a female that i couldn't call my own..
she knew this as well..the tease..
my options pixelated
the what-ifs buzzing around my mind
blurring the vision of the mere fly (me)

she caught her prey
stem straight awaiting my arrival,
almost in a presumptuous manner,
already assuming my dignity will succumb to her unholy desires.

ravenous teeth disguised as wispy lashes
devouring my very being with every


blink.
couldnt sleep yesterday night..mind is restless..aaaaand then i woke up to pink eye :/
 Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
wordvango
if she could be a tree ag'in
never seen a balsa growin'
don't know about light wood

I am more acquainted
with the hardwood species
and as I speak

There in the woods, a balsa
tree floats off into the atmosphere
so light
 Jul 2018 Duncan Brown
L B
Worn-out sweatshirt
zipper's broke
Held close by hair clip
Waiting for the sun
to warm me,
Saturday
so clear and cool
Perfect--
on-deck morning
for cheerios
hanging laundry
sharing bottom-milk
with cat
Quick observation of woman in the wild.
Canada Day?  Just One?

With love from an ‘umble Yank

But every day is Canada Day!

The afternoon plane lands in Halifax
When the hatch is popped, cool air rushes in
Even the fog is happy in Canada

The Muskogee 1 never made landfall here
And so we pilgrimage for her, completing
Her voyage from ’42 to Canada

Wolfville, Grand Pre’, Le Grande Derangement
The Deportation Cross and beer cans
Well, God forgive the Redcoats anyway

Newfoundland
Is a bold
Anapest

The church spires in a line, the light is green
The bold young captain shoots the narrows wild
Can you find your way to your painted house?

To walk again the cobbles of Ferryland
And smell the very blue of the Atlantic
The sea-blown wind is cold in Canada

Blue Puttees and a mourning Caribou
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord
Good children sing “We love thee, Newfoundland”

Quebec – royal city of New France
May Le Bon Dieu bless the Plains of Abraham,
And may God bless
The signs an English driver cannot read

The Coca-Cola streets of Niagara Falls
Yanks laugh at made-in-China Mountie mugs
And buy them, happy to be in Canada

A cup of Toujours Frais from – well, that place
But to us in your southern provinces
Below Niagara, Tim too is Canada

Though Canada goes on, these scribbles must not –

Your grateful guest wishes only to say
That every happy day is Canada Day!
1 The oiler Muskogee was torpedoed with the loss of all her crew while en route from the Caribbean to Halifax in 1942.  My mother's first husband, Claude Blanchette, was second officer.  Shortly before Mother's death my wife and I took her to Halifax.
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