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They cried as they fell from the piano
leaving notes that just hung in the air
and She kept on playing
slaying the keys
I know
because I was there.
  May 2023 SCHEDAR
My Dear Poet
Some throw themselves to fire
Some to a raging wave
We throw ourselves at words
Doubly as dangerous…but brave
We string along a sentence
We bleed line by line
Scraping along defences
We grind the grit and rhyme
Defying the babblers battle
Waging war with a world
where words have no meaning
or power when they’re hurled
We’ll never decay or go rotten
We’ll be writing till we’re read
They may shut us till we’re forgotten  
But they’ll quote us
when we’re dead
A tribute to all poets
  Apr 2023 SCHEDAR
Thomas W Case
The under shell of
the tortoise looked
like a sunset.
Blasts of color:
orange, maroon, burnt sienna.
I caught them in
the garden at
sunrise, eating a
tomato or chewing into
a head of lettuce.
They always looked so

I was just a
sunburnt boy, with
cutoff jeans and a
straw hat.
I caught toads too.
But when they peed on me,
I let them go.
I loved that land.
Ponds and streams,
fishing and climbing trees.
sweet, green
  Apr 2023 SCHEDAR
Chris Saitta
I never learned to weep
But ground my eyes down
On the griststone of a mill
Turned sadness into powder
Then choked on my own weaponized sorrow.
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