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Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
The spinning torrent has brought me here
She struggled to get my attention
Bent on disclosing her abashed query of if she exists or not
By asking for my point of view

I could not answer, there was salt water filling my lungs and my body was so thrashed from the choppy sea

Eyes widened and steady, a look of anticipation covered her face
Floundering to piece together and answer with a flower in her hair
I tenderly reply with a hesitant assurance that she did indeed exist

Knowing somehow that I have been in an awful typhoon and was tossed in the enormity of the spontaneous waves

She told me to dance in the unbridled ecstasy of my survival
She knew why I crossed the sea
My lover of yesterday’s past abandoned me on a sandy shore
And left a note stabbing at my manhood, prompting me to fight for her if my love was true

So I built a boat and vigorously shipped out  
Darkeyed, mad and my heart tinted so no one could see my pain, only my determination

Roaming the ocean in an attempt to preserve my notions of love and faith

The guilt in my tender flaming heart gushed out
I’d done wrong and now I had to come face to face with me unavoidable comeuppance
Embodied in the sea
Devouring my consciousness and pumping my mind with bleak unclarified riddles, insufferable seminal propositions  

Revisiting vignettes so vivid as if they were in high definition Technicolor right before my eyes

The attraction, the pursuit that followed
Then the incomprehensible weaving of the souls

Suddenly the details of it all flooded into my brain
The fights
The lies
The unmitigated greed and narcissism caused by a chemical imbalance and a troubled past

So many reasons pointing me in the direction of which I came but I refused to yield and trudged on
As I rode the waves I became delirious, on a spree of self-induced affliction
Relocating my focused mind to a realm of contradicting confusion, being strangled by spontaneous bursts of uncertainty and rejection  
Until my boat started to sink
And all my fears and demons escaped
I didn't care if I died
I had no reason to live anymore, I wasn't afraid to meet the angel of death for an untimely yet causal powwow
The waves, monstrous and substantial
Hurling me back and forth
My hopes
My determination
My wall crumbled
The mythology of love had no merit to me any longer
The water was taking a toll on my organs until I ultimately blacked out

I remember being scraped against the bedrock of a lagoon
Coughing up blood, but realizing I was alive
Yet I felt dead ion the inside

And a figure came to me overhead
It was the girl with a flower in her hair who asked me if she existed
Her black hair shined in the sun as she pushed it back behind her ears
Her brown eyes full of wonder and honesty
Red lips teaming with sweet sounds behind them
I felt calm
I felt anxious
Anxious for I wasn’t expecting to see or come in contact with anyone

I didn’t need to do anything
But admit she was real

She knew who I was, what I had done and what happened to me

She ****** the girl who strung me along to cross the world
She told me to forget and move on and to learn from it and cultivate myself

This oracle, so benevolent
So graceful, I could not believe she was real
She wasn't a mild hallucination
She was as tangible as I

She taught me that

To look inside myself
To live for myself
“Come let’s cut ourselves open to see what we look like on the inside”
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2014
what need we know,
what laws to posit,
mission clear
but still us,
we remain a wee unclarified,
the theoretical, lacking,

so today,
all scientists, all visionaries,
all literature professors,
critics and ******,
today, only positing,
non-negating,
in order to
establish the tenets of
The General Theory
of Poetary Genius

once proofed and proved,
the theory capable,
discerned and predictable,
the foretold course
motion foretold of a
planetary body,
a special singular star,
a peculiar one,
plot not its course,
but it's discourse,
the emanating waves
of words arriving, self translating
in any and all languages,
but for all,
in their native tongue

The first element,
chiefest law of them all
is to pose the problem differently,
so that answers come from
a planetary poetic perspective radical,
enabling any old genius to see it
as no one has seen it before, till now

We mortal Joes,
ponderous weigh,
inexplicable unsolvable ordinary,
what is love?

The Poet Genius declares:
it knowable, it's real,
its solution a matter of a matter,
among two planes it coexists,
though in three dimensions...
what is love co-exists
in space and time at the
subatomic level
and moreover,
who gives a ****?

The second element,

(To be continued)
Jay M Nov 2019
My Perspective

Ghosts;
There are many kinds
Those that appear in images and audio
And those that appear in our minds
That haunt us to our cores
Plaguing us
With flashbacks, fears, insecurities
Issues with trust, issues with companionship;
Whatever it may be
These ghosts never leave us be
Not a moment to rest
And when they give us that moment
It disappears in an instant
Vanishing as soon as it had come
Not to be seen for a time yet.

~

My Mother's Perspective

An entity that may or may not exist
A shadow, or a lingering spirit
Such has been debated for ages
Yet, the question is; what do I believe?
There could be such
The soul of a person lingering in a place of importance
Trapped in a memory they had
Possibly keeping people away
Possibly inviting them to stay
Such is unclarified
Unverified
Left for us to be believers,
Or skeptics.

~

My Sister's Perspective

Yes, they are all around us!
Dreams so wondrous,
Nightmares of the dangerous,
Hidden in photos
Detected in sound
Things move when nobody is around
Keys turning
Spirits yearning
For communication
Destination
Freedom from repetition
Or just a friendly hello
A familiar song on the cello.


- Jay M
November 21st, 2019
I wrote each one in a different perspective of the topic of ghosts. The two that are from my mom and sister's perspective are what I believe their take on the subject is based on what they have told me they believe.
Aditya Roy Sep 2017
You’ve known the morale of Earth to be shattered
In present times it is simply tattered
But sleep not
Taking no example from wars fought
Comes the forbidden country with its Asian H-Bomb
Not King Kong
Headed by the mastermind of Kim’s ding ****

Promising more fire and fury
In the face of people dying in Syria cruelly
Waiting for Marie Curie’s discovery of radiation therapy
In vain amidst the conflicts of the politics and terrorism influenced crowd
300,000, 500,000 deceased
You don’t need the weatherman to tell you which way blows the cloud
As war blows out the populated masses
You know the breaking news is just about to grow oh so loud

I know a drunken political brawl is going to break out
As each belligerent ostentatiously displays their tiny fists and clout
Since H-bomb fads are usually unclarified
We need a report to be verified
For substance in a conspiracy to be amplified
I have mine and I know I have not lied

But we’re out of this
Floating on our crowded cloud
Moving where the newsman predicts where the wind will blow
Sifting through all lands even the ones troubled by disaster and war sound
After you foolish anti-Semitics and xenophobes have suffered for your racist lies
I will know when the Supreme One dies
Or when my fairness is darkened by ashen skies
Still suffering from your opposition to the movement of Civil Rights
You better finally unite
And not fall to his rallies made of dynamite and a false nationalist’s delight

CNN’s got nothing on me
Or on Kennedy
So now they need a story
Of a close-up of battle fury
To burn BBC
In foolish jealousy
Let’s see who’ll get first claim on my conspiracy theory

While everything down on the rocky and urban terrain
Gets vanquished and torn
After long when there is no question of who will remain
Thanks to the lovely UN
I’ll be forlorn
Playing my guitar and saxophone
To ease me and everyone aboard playing harps within the musical Trinity
Shifting my sights to Germany
For homeless refugees washed on the sea shores of hopeful destiny
As they look forward to a life full of opportunity
And I’ll finally know that our chalked out journey
Shall be peaceful and trouble free

Finally I come back to my intended caveat
Trump if your crowd doesn’t change
Then neither will you get over the possible economic speed bump
But you’ve already sent Wall Street in a frenzy over your antics
And your loyal critics will be jittery and pensive
Over your reckless statements reeking of belligerence
When you should be on the defensive

But you want show your democratic prowess
But remember the World Trade Towers
And you’ll know that the Dictator only means us harm
He doesn’t believe in logical calm
So you should use the diplomatic arm
To protect the swarm

If you go down
Our cover will get blown
And the only one left laughing
Will be that stereotyped mad clown
In the apocalyptic now
With no one to wear the thorn crown
Of forgiveness
And Catholic renown

But go on with your game
You’re only one to manage to put the electoral college to shame
But it’s not only your politics
It’s the crowd too
The bunch of asinine fanatics
Who will tear apart their beloved country
Before the H-bomb’s entry which heralds doom

One needs a ****** devil or an angel
For an entry
Into your country
You’ve made everyone wary
But till now most of us have survived
Without racism and xenophobia getting revived

I beg you to please bring fraternity
To bring peace on this clueless cloud for eternity
For us to finally get down safely
To bring about the plenary
A prediction of how the rogue nation will act. Trump is making a ******* mess of things.
Oh good Lord, may you provide us with providence..
Merry are those who are deceitful at ease..
Wash away not only my sins but also my knowledge..
These index fingers are pointing at all direction...
This unclarified purpose is digesting my head..
Why do I loathe a lot of irrelevant things?
When my existence is a part of inconsistency..
I see the world from a moon in my isolation.
More and more souls are appearing to be a nuisance..
For the voice in my head told me so..
Such is defining gravity and drowning on a sunny day..
To a soul with feet fixed on the daily tracks..
Perceptions are unnecessary for these subjects..
Relying on hope itches my pessimism..
I am so eager to scrape my enemies but I don't know them..
And my thoughts.. why are they trying to **** me?
TJ Struska Feb 2022
The moon, cold and unattainable,
Hangs over the Earth's edge,
Unfaithful in its last light.

In another world
Children hit a tether ball
Around a pole,
Creating a brief, elliptical year,

The weightless, unclarified light of the sun,
Lies like a lover over a lost city,
Westward windows go up in flames.

And here, where the swan revolves in the moon phase,
A black pool invites its cold depth
The night is fixed in motioning stars.
            March 17 2021
I have been on a hiatus, Eliot, it's good to be back, many new poems to come
Travis Wilson Feb 2021
Black and white and sepia tone
Clear distinctions to classify emotion
Passing moments, unclarified commotion
I'm sad to watch it fade away
Though I didn't feel much today
Tomorrow I'll find the filter
And I'll be sad today will wilter
Classify it with surroundings
A specific period sounding
Tie it to a visual anchor
Cars and clothing which we hankered
Markers now invisible
With these memories be indivisible
And I'll love those filters then
For the emotions they lend
Zywa Nov 2019
Because I feel that
we still love each other
at a distance, I dare

after the tour through the garden
the last honeysuckle smell and
drinking unclarified apple juice

together in the autumn sun
to ask you:
How are we

now, our love
how close are we still
heart to heart?

Would we, living in the same
house, also have gone
different paths?

In what spring will we
receive our children
after this winter?
For Sylvia Frances Chan

Collection “Leftovers"

— The End —