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False Poets Feb 2018
Human Observations (the woman pees)

if you walk the world with pen and paper
or eclectic electronic devices,
sure as the sunrise espied,
the pen will quick leak
when wearing white
and so will too the
righteous words
righteously,
thereafter

when you can't sleep and you must
slam your sweaty fist into pillow
know that the pillow is
silent thinking, dude,
you really ain't
got a hope, a
prayer

fallen asleep in the soaking tub
a thousand and one times,
ain't never drowned like
the warning ones say I
will do but really when
restless in my rustling
night sleep of no-safety
in my lumpy bed, have
I dream-drowned
a million
times

the woman pees, safe and secure,
comforted by the knowledge
that we have bathrooms
separate, her toilet,
man *** free, tho
we just finished
making sweaty,
fluid swapping
***


she does not, won't put on makeup
in her pj's to take out the garbage,
that is why she keeps loverman,
so handy, nearby, shamelessly
firm, unwavering, good god,
great for one "disposable"
use per night

when you tell your child that you love them,
and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they
don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't
learned to love themselves
something that
just cannot be
taught.

the more trinkets I buy her,
more she screams stop,
but never not once
has she said, here,
take it
back

if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives,
try, for then you have a middling chance
of getting the missing, disappearing
whole sock hiding in her ******,
back, intact

If must look up the time where your
love is currently hiding/residing,
then the probability is more than
1.000, that you no longer love
her enough, or
she, you,
not at
all

you know it is time to shut down,
hang up the pen and close the
iPad cover, surrender, give up
the poetry gig 4 real when
you start to prefer
the autocorrect
suggestion

~
More to follow.
someday.
11/24/13
two poets, laureates both,
on the nature of hunger, discourse.

I was there, hungry in every aspect,
seeking wisdom of the hungering nature of human.

examine the word, hunger,
hardly a rolling off the tongue mellifluous.
you exhale it from the gut, in gowned resplendent ugliness,
go ahead, try it, it’s coarse and powerful insistent.

awoken empty but for the hunger, hungover from
dancing words and imagery not mine, now mine,
maddeningly demanding my dutiful attentions,
as if hunger was the master, me, obedient pupil.

the clean white slate the IPad re-presents repeatedly,
insulted that I have yet to crayon color it with the coherence
of hunger-exhaled words, dismissive that I am but an also-ran,
my village of lexical too unsophisticated,
the page addressed yet unplanned,
Apple white is the color of the
starving artist.
I grow up and everything was done!
I wake up and everything was gone!
If you ask me who I am ,
I remain a man with a dream!

I'm good and bad
Always happy, never sad
I used to play with the sand
I was very glad
At that time I didn't have IPad!! I grow up and everything was done!
I wake up and everything was gone!
If you ask me who am I?
I'm my father's man
I like to be in the sky,
Don't ask me why, sometimes I'm shy!
That's all goodbye!

If you ask me who I am ,
I am  a dreamy man
A dreamy man, I am...
Mary Gay Kearns Nov 2018
Dotty was a beautifully coloured dragonfly with four wings
And a  long slender body,
She was made by Evelyn on the coldest day of the year
When the ground lay under two inches of snow
And a southerly wind blew flurry flakes of whiteness
Into faces and down fronts of coats.

All the way home Evelyn held on to Dotty
Protecting her from the bad weather,
Until she was safely on the kitchen table.
When you make things your heart wants
To share so Evelyn thought of her Grandma
Who she knew would just love to see Dotty.

Now in 2018 there is FaceTime a magical device
Allowing one to speak and see pictures of
One's family and friends,
So Evelyn asked her daddy if she could
Show Dotty to Grandma.

Grandma heard this ringing in her room
Coming from her iPad.
Who can that be she thought and went to see?
And there was Evelyn with Dotty
" I wanted to show you my dragonfly
That I made at playgroup this morning".

Well Dotty was beautiful with her painted wings
And Evelyn flew her round the room for
Grandma to see.
This made Grandma so happy and they both laughed
And talked and then Evelyn showed her Bagpus on her
Own iPad and Grandma and Evelyn both sang
The mice song.

It was only a short call and soon time to say goodbye
Evelyn said "you have made me very happy "
And Grandma smiled in her heart all day.

Love Mary ***
Tommy Randell Mar 27
Am I young at heart?
Sometimes kidding myself I expect,
That I'm a crazy 60something
Pretending I can still connect.

But the 60s are the new 40s yes,
And fashion is for All?
Quad denim and a manbag,
iPad & Apple to the core?

I'm not speaking the urban lingo,
Not rocking the street cred savvy,
No #Instapoet poet here
Or any #Chic-n-Shabby!

Am I young at heart, though?
Nah, not so you would notice -
I'm more your stay at home and watch TV
Cup-of-Cocoa kind of poet.

Not for me the Silver Surfers' scene,
The Gin & Tea-time Quickstep riot.
I may be growing old disgracefully
But I'll be doing it in private.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grey_pound
In the United Kingdom, the expression "grey pound" is used in the context of marketing and or retail sources and refers to the purchasing power of elderly people as consumers.
Lucy Sep 2018
I have always wanted to be perfect.

Once upon a time
it seemed like such an achievable goal
because I believed that perfection sat at the back of my throat
waiting each night for me to reach in and grab her after dinner.



But I soon realised
with scarred knuckles, yellow teeth, a scratchy voice and the same body I'd had all along
that perfection was not something I could achieve by cheating.


It was then that I started to see perfection sitting at the top of the hill 4 miles away from my house.
And in the black coffee I would cradle in my hands before I set off to that hill at 5am
And on the scale when I only had one foot on
And in the size 6 jeans I'd bought by accident, once
And in everybody else but me

I was dying to get my hands on perfection
But she just kept getting further away
Getting smaller each time I saw her.

But with a face as pale as daisy petals, numbers in the notes on my iPad, bruised knees and the blurriness behind my eyes,
I continued to chase what I thought was my only chance of being loved.

I chased her all the way to the approving messages, the smiles in the corridor by people who hadn't done that before and people's questions of just how I'd managed to get so healthy.
But I didn't stop there.

I chased her to the collar bones that caught raindrops, the spine that hurt against chairs, the gap between my thighs that seemed to stretch for miles and the defined cheekbones that cut into my once-so-plump cheeks.

I chased her to the clumps of hair on my pillow in the morning, to the cold shivers on a hot summer's day, to the baggy size 6 clothes and to the aches in my joints at night.

I chased her to the concerned faces and the offerings of other people's lunch. To the ground when I'd stood up too quickly and to the skipped periods.

And then to the hospital.

I chased her all the way to my death bed and yet still she did not come to visit me.
She was not with me when I looked down at my skeletal body.
And she was not with me when I caught a glimpse of myself in the patient bathroom mirror.
But she was with every other patient I came across, and she was with the nurse, and she was with every family and friend that came to tell me I hadn't needed to chase her that long because she did not exist.
Aurora Oct 2018
Why Am I me
You see
When I was three
It was okay to run all over
living lovely
But now I’m much older
And it is becoming much harder to just be three
To just be me
You see
You can not run all over like you did before
Now you focus on important things and do a lot more.
It’s not like when you were three
You live
Not so happily
There’s people to please
Nerves to ease
Places to go
Places to see
But it’s not that easy
It’s complex and hard
You do it all alone
You start to miss home
So you go and see your family
Buts it’s not how it was
Not even when you were three
Everything little things changed
It’s definitely not what it used to be
You see
You used to come home
To mom and dad
You use to do home work
Or go on the iPad
But now you come home
Drop your keys
Go on your phone
Isolated from the world
At home
All alone
But i guess that is the world we live in
For this century
We chop down trees
We extinct bees
We’ve got better things to do than living lovely
But you miss
Your family
Your friends
But everything eventually comes to an end
You see
Living this life
These days
Isn’t as great as being three
Is different, difficult and not always taken with ease.
It’s becoming a hard game your not used to playing
You see
There’s no teammates
No players
No opposing side
It’s you against the world and it’s going to be a long ride

— The End —