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Sleep oft colludes with night,
Pulls wool over my eyes—
By announcing itself anon
On my station's platform.

Evermore delayed to reach this vessel,
It refuses to hypnotize a compliant patient
Despite the dated rituals performed
For slumber to thrive—

Prayers chanted in your name,
Darkness donned in your chase,
Silence kept vigil, sung as lullaby,
Consciousness sacrificed for your gain

Yet you refuse to sway me in my cradle,
Yet I lay squirming on your saddle,
Incapacitated by thoughts—untenable
Enslaved for their cause—unassailable

Many a sleepless nights were my penance;
Upon which, one of sleep's commandments
bequeathed...
To sleep—toil to reach the summit;
Inhale the thinned air
Exhaled by a content-shaped mountain.
Anthony Williams Sep 2014
The flickering lamp in your hand
sways as if to swim in peace to me
the lily scenting a warm ponder
ripples from the apple of my eye
and bobs across to bid approach
blooming with a soft absorbing sigh
which enters an essence close to reach

Your touch colludes in a light lashed usher
enticed to where my heart will sing
of finding lithe spirit mute from flesh
I slide into choral waters with longing
for the wonder of a parting life wish

Drumming soft
as butterfly strokes
swishing in the night
so close
and so remote
she could vanish
into poppy fields
at any moment
but will never leave
my sight
fluttering
I swim onward..
I swim
out..
by Anthony Williams
Crimean War nurse Florence Nightingale spent her night rounds giving personal care to the wounded, establishing herself as "The Lady with the Lamp." She established a nursing school and her writings sparked worldwide healthcare reform.
Sometimes while sleeping
I greet the twin sisters.

Subtle faceless apparitions,
that love to giggle
while skipping the ropes to reality.

coalesced dreams, some call them
Without an end or beginning.

in a state of drunken stupor,
set by feasting on the flesh of stars
they drive me back to the black lake
where we once buried the moon

effigies of time, burn on the shores,
the lake soaking its ashes.
does the time ever weep?
for what it has lost,
even in the interconnected dreams

an undecipherable hymn now,
colludes with my stupor
as the faceless twin sisters smile.

I shall remember nothing
except for their holy unison
and the figments of thread
sewing their thumbs together
Trying to describe the interconnected dreams that recur to me in sleep.
Bob B May 2019
Will Russia's election meddling ever
Come to an end? We keep hopin'.
But now the president blatantly
Colludes with Putin out in the open!

Recently, another phone call
Between Trump and Putin occurred.
Was Russian election meddling mentioned?
According to Trump, NOT one word.

But why would Trump want to stop
Interference in our elections?
If Russia helped him win before,
Why would he NOW raise objections?

He doesn't trust investigators
Here. He'd rather demonize
The FBI, while at the same time
He swallows all of Putin's lies.

Now team Trump seeks outside help
To hopefully tarnish the reputation
Of another political opponent.
Character assassination.

No maneuver is too low for Trump.
Will his actions come back to haunt him?
One thing we know: the Russians have
Donald Trump right where they want him.

People concerned about America's
Strength and safety should be upset
As Trump spins the cylinder
In a dangerous game of Russian roulette.

-by Bob B (5-4-19)
Jayne E May 2019
Dots and dashes

Dots and dashes dits  and dahs  
sending coded messages
across 'enemy' lines flung afar
muscle memory might mete out
this coded message of love
for you dearest dear to try work out
the mystery is not in what it says
rather how it transmits and portrays

this brand new thing new joy for me too
in all of my years only now felt for you
my dots & dashes, my dits & dahs  
strives to transmit my love for you dear
when passion colludes is message clear
I try to reign in but my dashes & dots
a mind of their own message garbles lost
as the fever kicks in makes my body rock

confusing I'm sure to the dotless mass
your love is a Morse code masterclass
a language adept secret for thee and me
its symbols & ciphers uncovered by you
transmuted by words whispered near true
and by trembled thigh and shaken knee
a new language clearly has been found
its mysteries shown love clearly abounds

J,C. Honey-assassin 15/04/2019.
Haha, we have our own codes and 'secret' languages... to communicate our love for one another...
Once upon a falling far
I jumped off the world
to land on a star
and
looking behind me, I
looked on in awe at the world that I'd
jumped from
and the beauty I saw.

Racing through space amid
the dolly mixture of planets
watching the suns burn and die.
With wings on my heels it feels
like Achilles collides or colludes with me.
myths,mystics and history are
spoon fed to me
by the universal mystery.

The expansion expands but like all
rubber bands
one day it will stop
and
POP.
Exceeding all expectations, I'll return to the seed pod
of all of creations
and then I'll believe in
a God.
Tony Luxton Jul 2016
Woken. Rain agaain.
What did I dream -
hero or sinner,
watcher or actor?

When my mind
colludes with the day
memories corrupt.
Jabbering Ignominious Hypocrite Gabbles - against the backdrop of gross unbridled viscous wracking zealotry bruiting extinguishing inherent national trust...  

Poetic Introduction:

I wax and wane rhapsodic
plus prosaically politic
aware severe erosion
of American democracy
over run by narcissistic
over stuffed ego-freezer,
whose vocabulary
extremely laconic
foe swash buckling braggadocio
commander in chief
not gun shy
to brandish (hugely
bully like) jingoistic
tirade unleashing horrific
banshees more'n 10, 000
foo fighting maniacs
(nemesis of liberty) fatalistic
to sanctity of
United States democracy
throw back at him bigly,
his woeful treachery,
quasi xenophobic, tragic,
and lunatic bred anarchy!

Each ticking second of every single day, the pensive, doughy face execrably debased “dunderhead” criminal commander in chief (trumpeting acrimonious, calumnious, egregious...yakking), while donned in gay apparel) trumpeting lunatic, jingoistic, ideology imbues heretic catalysts.

Thou art unduly seething, quaking, and oozing mercurial kindling ideological glommed ethos of mine. These atrocious blaspheming, castigating, denigrating, excoriating, fulminating gross humiliations imply jerkiness, kookiness, lunacy.

No! Not for one more term can this acidulous, indecorous Mandates need outspoken politicians quickly removing this utterly vile wicked Xerses.

Thus spoke Zarathustra (without blandishment) to me, a gluten and monosodiumglutinate free, NON-GMO non-alarmist, nonestablishmentarian, nor ham aye a nihilist.

Yukon just **** sitter me a copacetic, energetic, ironic language lover (English is ma lingua franca late mother tongue), who waxes poetic, but tall so one babbling, creaking, and dabbling dis arming marine naval (gazing) scrivener expressing stance toward thee present lord save us (Te Deum) included despite admitting to espouse atheistic tendencies.

This “FAKE” president aces at blabbing acerbic, caustic, empathetic, fatalistic hoary jabbering mishmash!

I aim to affect a chain reaction while this paunchy dumpling remains in office, whereat he flirts, debases, colludes, with amoral, diabolical, execrable horrible ingrates.

His see-through debonair, imposter nuanced orbit poseur quite revealing sans, (inviting guests, sans agents provocateurs to join his all-star ensemble of mailer daemons, lampoon kickstarting imps of the pervert further underscores this delusional faux equalitarian huckster as an unqualified commander in chief!

A flourishing gesticulation (hocus – pocus) kindles, flickered and evinces braggadocio. This pantomime a charade, facade, inlaid limp odiousness. Via compounding gall, he makes official indiscriminate ******* legislation all the exempting himself and kin.

Smug slinking, sneering, sporting antics attempt to cocoon diabolical, horrible laws (automatically abrogating, evading, flaunting every decree, whereat he affixes his signature). This absolute zero with dangerous liaisons significantly, knowingly, and increasingly shortens the metaphorical burning fuse.

He sets the figurative and literal global shaky sphere stage setting off a global conflagration. If privy with box office seat, you will rub shoulders with guest appearances sans, worldwide webbed sheep in wool clothing faux allies.

These Janus faced grungy beastie boys, cagily, edgily cadge facile self-possessing knack to acquire fruitful knick knacks (paddy whacks give their dog a bone), which forsaken good and plenty treats blithely, blindly, blandly exchanged at the emotional, financial, and spiritual expense of American taxpayers.

This collusion to fiddle (while Rome burns), gamble and mollycoddle with turncoats actually, demonstrably, generously favors these chameleon nemeses.

Poetic Polemic Bookends this rant:

Though poor (financially),
this figurative anchorite
doth no longer
wanna feel powerless
against bicameral blight
thus approaching 2020 election...
uneasily doth excite.
BandedEarth Apr 2018
I need to say, the evening with you was the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. Watching the performances, walking to Kaldi’s our steps and gossip wandering about together, singing show-tunes in your car, being vulnerable to a person we barely know, and watching Broadway Youtube videos; you just feel like we fit.

I need to say, It’s tomorrow morning now and I haven’t had you out of my mind for a moment since we separated. I want to spend countless more evenings feeling this enraptured by your company. I want to build you a castle of experiences, filled with treasures of memories better than these first ones made last evening; and the evening’s were pretty stellar.

I need to say, “I’m crazy over you.” I think you are more beautiful than the sunrise breaking across the sky, and more comfortable to be with than a favorite pair of pajama pants. I’m feeling so much, and so much intensity. I want time to draw us together. I want to  become the one who kisses your lips. I want to be cuddled up with you on a couch sharing a lazy Sunday. I want to be your biggest fan, cheering you on from the front row when you perform.  I want to know your people and be your person.

I need to say, the hug in the passage between your dining room and living room where I held you and was held by you was a perfect singularity. I could have dissolved into it, were we hugging or were we dancing? I want to think it was a dance but neither of us knew the steps. I want to learn the choreography, to feel the artfulness of gliding across a dance floor in partnership that’s safe. I want to pull you in, hold you close, take three steps in unison, spin you out to watch you dazzle, then draw you back again to reunite and prepare for the next bars the band will play directing our movement together. I want to become your Fred and you become my Ginger. Or perhaps not, it could have just been a hug because you just needed a friend to hug.

I need to say, I will not ever send you this. I just don’t know how to risk saying all this. I wish you could know this: that you could hear these words coming from my mouth. I want to hope you felt all this too. Yet I live inside a mind that colludes against me, and the risk of these words is crippling. I don’t want to retreat, fortify a secure position, and avoid the perilousness of something amazing and new. Yet that is my modus operandi. I wish I were the person who could announce such a proclamation of your enchantment. I want to actually feel that 1000 anxieties accompanying  the chanciness of speaking these words to you; because there was an undeniable elegance to the easiness of how we click.

I need to say these things I type. That however is just not me. So another bottle of regret will get added to my emotional cupboard of elixirs I will never get to taste. Before I stock this away to be misplaced and gather dust on its shelf I needed to record it here; just to let the magic of what could be fill me up at least a little bit.
I woke up at 5:30 this morning after the spending the evening with “my new best friend.” I knew I had to write down what I was feeling to get it structured and tangible. Every moment we spend together I think less and less this “best friend” thing is going to work out; because I am totally taken by the brilliance with which she shines into this world.

— The End —