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Jerry Jul 2018
“Strange place as if, a university campus. Last week of August, bit chilly though dark afternoon. Some random corridor seats. Surrounded by her loud chirps wrapped with unbidden happiness... and me still in some sort of shock... what am I doing here?
Conversation took toll about random university matters, she felt hungry and suggested to have lunch together. So we came out and took a bus towards town to allow ourselves luxury of 'A La Carte'. As we get off the bus cold wind struck us, “Lady shivered and grabbed my wrist with her right hand and same arm with her left, letting herself rest her right cheek on the edge of my left shoulder. My whole existence felt her magnetic presence”.
I uttered if she’s feeling cold she mumbled, I took it as a yes so wrapped my blue jacket around her. She responded to the gratitude with a smile and I allowed her grip on my arm to become more firm... so both of us kept on walking towards an undefined destination... and then my 7:00 am alarm interrupted the most beautiful dream i ever had since HER...”
Rough draft, suppose to be transformed into a poem but i decided to let it be...
Loony Feb 19
I hear a sound
In the middle of the night
Nobody is awake
Except for me
The sound
It rings
Like a bell
It won't stop
The alarm
It's a warning
To save me
From me
Desmond the poet Aug 2018
It’s a good day the lord granted.
Everything seems so perfect.
Weather is sweet.
Sun’s shining.
What could go wrong?

…….Until…..

I felt you coming.
Like a hijacker through a rear view mirror.
How I wish for a false alarm.
Dear lord may this cup pass.
A moment to accept the inevitable arrived.

Oh my God! you seized me once again.
You came like a thief at midnight.
You hijacked my mind.
You exposed me to wrath of migraines.
Horrible 30 seconds in a 24hour day.
It's like a small stain on a white garment.

The cruelty of an epileptic seizure is inevitable.
https://m.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends
This an expression of how a 30seconds encounter with with an epileptic seizure can ruined the whole 24hour day.
Donna Sep 2018
I can hear the crows
cawing 'Good Morning' its time
for me to get up
:) have a lovely weekend all **
Cné Mar 2017
i am your pet, cherished, you bet
from the very first moment, we met

you are my master, tried and true
my job in life is to always, please you

i wander aimlessly alone
when you're gone, so long, on your own

forgive me, if i chew your shoe
i was nervous and i missed you

if i snack some food from the trash
it smelled so good, how could i pass

bark, bark, bark, i cry out alarm
the mailman has come here to harm

when you get home, i'm so happy
wagging my tail with my whole body

when we go for a walk together
if a cat threatens, away i chase her

don't be upset with me, please sir
i promise to protect you from all danger

i greet other dogs, on our way
smelling their butts to just say, hey

i lift my leg marking my place
to find my way back, just in case

i'm not too crazy about the rain
but i'll keep you company and not complain

laying belly up is a sign
scratch me, rub me and i'll be fine

if I lick my area, because i can
please don't be jealous of me, man

sleeping here, my chin on your foot
obediently, my faith in you, i put

though my purpose, i may reach in a flash
compared to your life, my longevity won't last

my loyalty to you, will never sever
unconditionally, i love you, forever
Another artist's statement for a series
of pet portraits I've painted
Lily Barrett Nov 2018
Listen all, and hear me well
Listen to the ringing of the alarm bell
It’s time to go, time to flee
Time to get out of what we can see
We can dive deeper I know it
Deeper, we go, pushing the limit
Listen all; it’s time to go now
Leave with a flourish and a bow
Go somewhere new, leave it all behind us
It’s been a good life, but it needs to let go of us
Listen all, it’s been fun
But now its time to pick up and run
We haven’t seen everything, not yet
And we should leave before the sun has set
C’mon, c’mon take my hand
And together we shall travel the land
See what can be seen and hear what can be heard,
We shall do it all undeterred
Listen all, and listen well
And hear the ringing of the alarm bell
Its telling us to flee
And we must go, and be free
I like to think of this one as two people running through life trying to experience as much as they can before their time runs out.
Lydia May 2018
"But what if we're wrong?"
It was silent
But her thoughts echoed around in my head as we laid on top of her pickup truck
I swatted at the eighteenth mosquito chewing on my leg
I don't want this to be love

We were tangled up in the acoustic music they play on the radio on Sunday mornings
She was trying to dream up something clever to write about
And I was pretending I could learn to play guitar through osmosis,
As if blending myself in with the harmonies, finding her in every lyric, and sheer willpower would give me wings or at least magic guitar hands

She set the alarm, checked it over and over
She was not going to be late for her first day
I told her I'd be asleep when she got home, she told me she knew
I told her to wake me up

I wasn't looking for perfect
Perfect really only applies in first year physics courses
After that, we learn to fall in love with "rough around the edges" or "unique" or "unfinished"
As if their life is a puzzle that we need to complete
Just so you know, it isn't

She bought me breakfast and dropped me off
She used to tell me she loved me, but I know she didn't
She does now, so she doesn't have to say it anymore
When I said, "love," before, I didn't really mean it
Not like I mean loving the garden on the balcony of her apartment or thunderstorms in May
Even if I was a puzzle that she completed (and I'm not saying that I am), we didn't need any glue to fit perfectly
The support on this poem has been unbelievably incredible. I am so grateful for this community with all of these lovely people :)

Please comment :)
English Jam Oct 2018
An orange sun shimmering with heat
Blankets its cloud all over our heads
Your eyes fill with wonder and stars
Gazing at the trees unevenly spread
We talk of fantasies and breathless sighs
And romance we have never known
While all the butterflies vibrate with ecstasy
And the sky, into our heads, is sewn

Little crystals melt on our tongues
Honey dripped bees infect our sights
Faintly, on the other side of the desert
Our threat awaits, patient as night
Orange sun begins to paint the world
As leaves fall like words murmured
Buzzing hummingbirds cry out in alarm
And the edge of our vision is blurred
At least with Solemn Differences sing
Honouring Friends of Great Cheer celebrate
Your arm on her lap; The other on him
And with a Flash these Blue Knights consecrate
Jolly, so Potent turn Tan into Red
That pleasant alarm Blue Oracles see
And guess which Debate your Incarnate fed
Whether you are or whether not to be
Ready for Cause to the Next Big Event
Telling yourself to Inspiration run
Foresaw this Scope: Friendship and Teamwork's meant
But all of this time it was just for Fun.
Seriousness Adore, Someone licks the Tip
In your Patron; Which was really your lip.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Stephen E Yocum Jul 2017
I rolled out of bed
to start my day,
but the power was off
my all electric home,
as still as a grave.
No coffee, or toast.
The refrigerator not cold,
the freezer started dripping
the contents soon to spoil.

No computer, no cell phone service!
I began sweating profusely,
no air conditioning to cool me.
Not even a TV Emergency Broadcast Alert,
to release this uneasy feeling of topsy-turvy .

I drove into town seeking a pay phone,
with not a single one to be found,
gone the way of the dinosaurs,
extinct now too I assumed.

My old truck had no computer chips,
most cars did and were dead in their tracks.
I needed gas but the gas station pumps
electric computer driven, all DOA to boot.

The Nations electric grid had crashed,
blacked out, stone cold dead everywhere.
All heavenly satellites blacked out, expired.
Everything computer related (and
that is about everything), had ceased
to function as had the electronic reliant
world we had created.  

The street throngs of dazed people walked
around like zombies, clutching blacked out
dead computer devices, knowing not what to do.
Not even talking, forgotten I guess how to do that too.
As dependently defectively programmed as the useless
devices in their hands.

In a panic I did awake finding that
this scary dream world was indeed all fake,
a nightmare of fearful unconscious thinking.
My electric clock was still churning,
It's music alarm blaring,
birds outside still singing,
my cell phone started ringing.
Welcoming me back to the 21 century.
Imagine if you can some man made device or solar flare
knocking out all the satellites in space and computers on
earth, then this nightmare is not so far-fetched.
I actually did have this unsettling dream. The possibility
of this reality does indeed exist.
Wesley Dotson Oct 2015
The one that you barely notice
It when you wake up in the morning
Probably snoring,
Finding you alarm clock has been,
Moved.
Two inches to the left.
The difference that doesn't fit right.
But if you turn on the light
My energy is still there.
The kind of midnight text
It wakes you up
When you are fast asleep
because, at midnight,
all the hurt weep.
You may be eyes open wide
Like an energy bomb of emotions
Exploded into your aura
Causing you to hate yourself
But my dictionary begins with adoration
And stops at the word you.
As if I didn't know enough
I have read through it cover to cover
Through and through
Enough to find
that you can still talk to me.
Stephen Blaine Sep 2018
Slow sound waves, while I listen for the break.
Innocent rhythms keeping a beautiful pace, and with my arms wide open
I embrace a purple taste.
Frozen by the frequency, no need for alarm.
A curtain drawn to protect where I come from.
I’m your silver fox, got a bag full of charm.
Emphatic melodies while I do my menial march.
So blinded by time.
No mistake for wanting life.
I choose to decide.
Passionate pain, and we do it for a gain.
But for what?
Where’s the progress in absolute blame?
Please take the time to consider listening.
They all want you to discover your irrelevance.
That’s not a glare, it’s a glance.
Enhance your perspective.
This is my blah-blah
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
Metal bones dropped over another
clashing sounds across the night of smoky denials
in a city of thieves, paupers and scholars.

Worn down and without memory, someone's father
brushes off the dust of a young person's tombstone.
The oblivious student bends over information
into another alarm bell of insatiable chases.

Huddled in a street corner
like sprites of another dark jungle,
workers in uniform and hard hats share
stories and spare time as if nothing else matters
but this fading incomplete point in time.

Overhead looms the impending bright dangers
and dim warnings being built
From metals and soil into another giant promise
trying to excuse itself as it rips through
the city lungs, calmly abiding
and seeming always ready to die or live through.
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