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Smoke Scribe Feb 2015
crazy idea, silly notion,
then again,
come back, circle around,
why not, you ask yourself

now prior to posting hereon,
every word with extra care reviewed

sharing, checking in
with my beloveds,
here, those gone/disappeared

telling myself
telling anyone,
talking to you
letting you know
my grace, your grace,
one and the same,
my face, your face,
my child, my son

know you're
checking in,
checking out,
the comings,
the goings,
knowing full and well,
I see you,
my face, your face
everywhere and everyday

our conversation never ending,
look for me here,
at the intersection
of memory and what's up,
you see my messages,
responding in a thousand
different ways,
our dialogue unending,
formally organized
Face to Facebook,
your face, my Facebook
my child, my son
Nicole Alyssia Oct 2016
i feel you under my ribcage
and all the way down to my toes
through my veins and through my airways
as i exhale through my nose

right now, i shutter in silence
at the faint hollow sound
of you strumming on my heartstrings
somewhere in the background
sometimes they just never want you to move on
CK Baker Jan 2017
( i )
I lucked out
on table 4 last night
window seat
baseboard heat
with intimate passages
from Ginsberg
in his purest
and most evident form

Cover-all Carl was draped
in his usual garb
turning pages
of yesterday's news
animating, culturing and bantering
on the fate of the
Greek barber
(in an accent of which
I'm not so sure)

His cronies
looked on
with a twisted conviction
countering
with their own tales
of ingovernance and woe
did you know that Panasonic
lost 5 billion last quarter?


The evening moved
in time lapse...
with painted winds
streaming lights
and a host of
high school girls
running cold

Maleah passed
on her late shift
(checking the pile and trough)
patronized the boys
and called it a night

( ii )
The bald man
is back at it again
bickering at the till
something about
a cold free coffee
or 99 cents
or the coloured guy
behind him who got it hot
a kind Filipino
is trying to get it done
at 8 bucks per,
losing her cool
and shedding a quiet tear

Wonder what the Purewals
or Haitians or Cossacks
would have to say
about this grim public reminder,
wonder what
this sad f*ck
will do tonight...
without his
bus pass
or sling sack
or broken Turkish stems
Tommy Randell Nov 2014
Up steep streets
I repeat
In a dream
Words seen in windows
To myself
Sub-vocally

Turning right
And Northward
Left and Westwood
Checking number plates
For initial surprises
Numbers for primes

Multiplying
The number of years
By the number of days
Adding the leaps
The few left over
Beats

To arrive in the viewfinder
To stand on the edge
To look at the scene
To breathe with the light
To know finally that I am
The lens
Asher Jan 17
there are butterflies in my chest
that you placed before you left
they see my great unrest
and it feels like a theft

a taking of my being
a stolen feeling,
fleeting
ryn Dec 2014

       you
               secretly
                       wishing, for
                              your writes to be
                                noticed•simple sign
                             that they have not been
                          missed•with every view
                     and every like•your popu-
               larity does spike•somewhat
          places your art on the poetry
      map•between major players,     
  you close the gap•constantly      
checking to see  who's been              
reading•you're always deli-               
ghted to see the 'yellow                      
lightning'
•a wish...                            
    for those who                             
     are writ-                    
ing      

secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending
* the above does not apply to everyone here.
Tammy M Darby Sep 2018
They are checking their list and checking it twice
Making a note whose leaning left or right
The CIA is coming to town.

They know when your cheating on your taxes
Checking Facebook they know when your awake
When your smoking Humboldt ****
Or chatting online with the Russians
So knock off for goodness sake

With hidden accounts offshore
Track and keep score
They know exactly who you are voting for
The CIA is coming to town.

OOOOOOOOOO you better watch out
You better not shout
You better be good
Check under the hood ( boooom)
The CIA is coming to tooooooooooooown

Dont panic........ its Political Satire folks

@ copyright Tammy M Darby Sept. 6, 2018
ceara Jan 2011
I tried
to throw it out
along with the bubbles,
the yellow duck,
and the knickers the dog crudely
chewed

pushed it amongst silled plants,
now it stands,
between Thick Cut Marmalade
and Chlorine Free Baking Cups
a token, painted green with white
Maori dots, symbolizing
the small dreamings
of a tortoise
                                                    
and since this house
is my body, see
how I have placed you
in the kitchen

and I cannot get beyond,
the simple meaning,
of daily needing
love like water, air

and how I don't seek
to see it fully
yet often find myself
checking if its there.
any suggestions on layout??
yúyīn Feb 2018
I stopped checking for monsters under the bed,
when I realized they were inside all of us instead
STATE SHUT DOWN BY IDIOCY

"This is correspondent, uh, burp...
wait, winds r, yeah, okay go
back on live camera..."

pretend the wind
is
blowing you back

"This is the most major storm in recorded history of this network!"

"My God,
I could die in this sh..stuff."

"Five star hotel what the ****?"

"Okay, okay, live we are,
look here, pan closer, these leafs on this Raleigh plant here,
see how violently they are moving?"

LEAVES ARE FALLING!

"That is the fear one feels knowing that a category two,
at any moment, could become a category five."

"This Dave Mowers live from Hawaii,
checking in before I possibly die.
Mom I love you, Dad, well,
look how brave I am!"

"Is that an Asian girl?"

"What an a..cute ***, that,
cut to...
to the violent leaves again you ****!"

"I'll fire you cameraman!"


Four large oak trees have fallen.
HAWAII HAS ENORMOUS SURF!.
 Four large oak trees have fallen.
Northern Poet Oct 2017
Why am I so obsessed
With checking my notifications
If no one texts me
It feels like suffocation
That little red dot
Next to my application
It ***** me off
When it won’t work down at the station
I've got a mate who's into spontaneous flirtation
He met a bird on this app
I think she's Croatian
They went on two dates
And then went on vacation
Meanwhile I'm sat at home
Watching babe station
I fell in love once
Then realised it was infatuation  
She said I had no drive
But she had no imagination
When we go out
Theres no conversation
Even Siri
Gives me ******* quotations
My new phone
Is the new sensation
Checking Facebook
My only temptation
I check my phone
Just to know my location
**** it
I’ve had it...
With this nation
Two Sport-Souls in an Olive's Mood bereft,
The Dove surrenders my Hard-Painted Brush
It was once a Quill; Yet due out of Theft
Lost to my Abuse of that Season's Lush
I guess this is a Bite to Understand
More so from the Pool you Both were long Raised
Twice you, Madam, the Lion you took Hand,
Netting his Tender and stamped it in Praise
So just as I Advised your Prince since told
When Gummi Worms evolve into Sweet Snakes
Twisted, though no such Deed I did that bold
And asked the Bobbie to investigate.
On this Last Page turned, I sealed the Ream with Tape,
Checking out my Card your Library gave.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Vincent May 2015
The men, mostly wrapped in grey,
With knitted necks have nothing to say.
But sway out of the way of the others, passing.

Over there, on six, a man is checking
No one is asking, but he’s still looking.
His finger’s pointing.

Beside me, a beautiful lady, is waiting
Speaking softly to her lover:
“Not long now” – she whispers’, lower.

With late night morning upon our faces
We wonder why, we are here at all
Collecting colds, old age, and wages:
Before middle, old, and then the fall.

And then the sun appears:
It lights the seats where no one sits
I feel my heart beat miss a bit.
I see myself years ago.
Waiting for a train to go.
To take our family away, for free
For fish, chips, salt and sea.

All of us all, sitting there:
Our fathers 1950’s hair,
Our sixties mother thin lipped stare,
my sisters, bothers, and me, just sat there.

Frozen cold, with tears sticking in my eyes.
And for a moment I want back that time.
To start again, at another me:
No more trains - but more sea.
Mary Alexander Jan 2017
You left a scab which
Took too long to form,
And my healing heart
Was all dead and worn.
You have no right
To come back and do this,
Checking me off
Like an item on your To-Do list,
What happened to me
Was awful and cruel,
And now "never trust"
Is my number one rule.
So you have no right
To come back and say,
"Oops, I'm sorry
I treated you that way",
For shallow words do
Nothing when spoken,
To a newly healed heart,
Not ready to be broken.
Jo Barber Apr 2018
As a child,
you watched me,
ever careful.
You held a mirror before my face
ten times a night,
to see if fog appeared there.
You stroked my hair
and sang soft songs.
With your lullabies,
my sleep was always long.

Now it is I
checking your breath
ten times a night.
Your pulse so shallow,
it'll vanish any second.
Gemma Jun 2018
"Effortless" effort
To prompt yourself up for the time of your life
but you'd rather just forget it .
See her walking down the country lane,
Endless fields surrounding her vision ,
Places she wouldn't care to get lost in,
But upon the pavement there's a man checking her out ,
I reckon he's thirty years of age .
I don't think he's thought about how old she is ,
I know their interests upon one another are not the same.
Still, in this scene , she has the losing title
Cause he's entitled
To notice
And she might as well
Keep quiet.
Its vital to dress herself proper
so the incident doesn't occur again,
She was the one in the wrong here,
She's scarred by the complete fear
But as her mother once told her  

      "men will be men" .
Uzzie Aug 2018
Just like I would paint a picture in your mind and making you see the way i want you to see it, You will never know me.
I would take years and decades describing my favourite food, how amazing it would taste and how decadent I prefer it to be,
You will never know me.
I could express my emotions of love, pain, past, dreams, motives and all there is to be emotional about
Tell you what i most yearn for
how I want to be held
And play the woman you want me to be
whether its being a wife
Mother of your kids
Your one night stand
or your psychotic rock of emotions
I would invest all of my time
My energy explaining myself to you
Telling you how my day was , trying to acknowledge my actions for the day.
You will never know me.

How I cry
sleeping on your chest
depressed
Making you believe
The love that we share would FOREVER exist
Having you hold my hand
Watching you lead the way
Checking whether the street is safe for me to cross
our Souls meeting through our palms
The warmth of our blood meeting the touch of our hands
the senses, the feel's between us.
You will never know me...

Lip-locking
exchanging our DNA's
exciting adventure that we love embarking
****, how we look foward to these moments
Passing "I love you,
You are my everything.
I don't see myself without you.
I will never leave you!!
You mean the world to me!!"
Trying to make you understand my heart and mind
Wondering what the world really means.

I don't know what life means
I don't know what my interests would be in the next hour
whether my favourite colour would still be black
Or it will swiftly change to pink.
You will never know me coz I'm still getting to know me too
Godawan Jan 23
Come in summer
Taste "Rabri"sweet n sour
Enjoy daytime sleeps for sure
Lunch with green sangri,
fofliya and rayata cups
with amazing bajra cakes
Dinner with dish of
" Moth-Bajra kheech"
with a lot of cheese
See how "Rohida" flowers rocks
amidst hot air strokes
Come in rain
Sketch on beautiful brown sand
by your fingers using as pen
engrave your foot prints for fun
and smell heart touching scent
of this warriors mother-land
Eat" gurrhvani churma" with
Ker-sangri, fofliya taste of
this  wonderland
And see camel ploughing fields
Walking in their full speeds
Come in shishir
Taste Matira, Kakar
And ber seasonal fruits
Chew roasted bajra grains
for checking teeth roots
Come in winter
Eat buffalo milk curd full of bowls
Taste "Kachar - Fali "veggies
Dal- Baati- Churma sweet dishes
Have  fair n festival funfares
and traditional marriages cheers
wearing colouful wears
singing folk songs
n lots of chances
of rocking in ghumar dances
Come in spring
Rock and roll in" Holi"fest airs
and visit  lovely" Gangour" fairs
Eat " kheer-dhokla "layers
Visit black buck sanctuary
to see animal cares.
Daan Vandelay Nov 2013
I have all my materials, a bathingsuit and
everything my tutor gave me. I love
to dip my leg in the water up to my
knees to check if the fluids are good.

But last week, when I knew I would
have to jump, I sabotaged myself, o why,
did I have to climb the ladder of
that springboard, I could not hand

myself some help, now I could not
feel the water. I had to jump without
the checking, it felt rather nerve-racking.
So I took the leap of no return, only south.

I went in head first, lessons didn't help a lot.
It was never the brightest idea, selftuition.
At least I climbed the ladder with succes.
L B Apr 2017
Somehow it wasn’t right to cry
for someone who
no one knew—for years
though everyone knew about Lil
She was the crazy burden
of an orphaned family
whose memories rearrange the winter shadows

“Are we dressed right?
Are our faces adequately sad?”

They loved the skinny, happy kid
Loved—the ones who loved her
knew her from “The Old Neighborhood”

Two sisters approach the body
echoed in black and navy
holding each other’s hand
They look down at her—
They look her over
They overlook—“The Old Neighborhood”
of the Lillian they had hoped for—
took care of as a child....

And in the din of last respects
a comment from an older gentleman—

The Goldrick girls were all such lookers

So I was her niece
and not from “The Old Neighborhood”
I have memories of my own....

I was rich when Lil brought play money
from Misquamicut
She brought whelks and slipper shells too
My ear cupped close
I first heard the sea

Not as beautiful as I expected
nor as beautiful as I would know
She gave them with love—without telling
where and when that I would go....

Her hands were always cool and sweaty
Always trembling
Always a cigarette
and an argument in the background

From the height of three
and hugging knees
I see her face against the ceiling’s
white—with panic

Her eyes are never with me
I know someone is with her

The Goldrick girls were all such lookers....”

Beleaguered beauty
Frail, with stiff grace
she glances sideways
Checking for my safety?

“Our names too close! Confused too often!”

I was to know her horror— as I know her sea

...Her laughter, too late for the conversation
a smoky hysteria
that will not share with her eyes
She stumbles backward through her childhood
as if she has mislaid something

She wants to go roller skating
with her sister, eight months pregnant
besieged by diapers
with stew on the back burner

...And Lil wants to go back...
to a time at the Rialto
to the *****’s boogie

to the edge—before
The Depression declared WAR—

on someone who
no one knew
for years!

And is it okay yet?
...to let her sea out of me!

It burns so!
Sequel to "Hey Kid"
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