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 Feb 2020 Alona
Darison Strange
We are what we eat
Can I eat someone disciplined
And abandon myself
To shed my self hatred
And become someone new
 Feb 2020 Alona
Kurt Philip Behm
You’re desperately lost,
writing your way into the madness

Each word a false beacon,
your hopes to decry

You’re desperately lost,
searching the caves of your memory

Delusion the caretaker,
your verses to lie

You’re desperately lost,
as every voice now deserts you

Time running backwards,
the heat turned up high

You’re desperately lost,
as the Sirens misguide you

The torch of the demon
—burning darkly inside

(Dreamsleep: February, 2020)
 Feb 2020 Alona
Nat Lipstadt
oh no!

another fateful overlooked poem title,
ensconced in a message not initially gripped tight enough,
the entitling command, the wish, this commish-on,
angry for having been ignored, overlooked,
calls the poet out, what, a deadline missed again?  

again.

an inherent compliment contradiction,
the well wisher, wanting an enlarged heart, like mine,
is wise in the ways of double meanings,
knows full well, that the enlarged heart is burdensome,
that weight of those afflicted with enlarged hearts,
walk with the stooped bent of responsibility.

so I write and weep, weep and write,
what a thing to wish for, defer it, deter it,
and yet here, I affirm it!

for in my possess is a sure and certain knowledge,
that a new born girl, has surely already stretched the measurements
of Pradip’s own heart’s boundaries, no wishing necessary,
a natural occurring phenomenon, a first grandchild grasped,
raised up to the light on high, a chemical reaction, an eclipse so
when the body’s brain commands it minions,
ordering messengers, sent to every province, to every *****,
piercing every cell’s shell with a kingly commandment scroll:

heart! all body parts!
grow, enlarge, engorge, for a fearsome wonderful injection of love arrives, a new baby will heartily enlarge, make room for more.


the wonderful burden of love.



<>

a commission satisfied. perhaps I will sleep tonight...

Feb. 10, 2020
2:04 pm
 Feb 2020 Alona
Carlo C Gomez
If it lives
Man will **** it

If it burns
He'll eat it

If it happens to be
Make believe
He'll then imagine
All the ways he could
**** and eat it

He lives and dreams
Merely to destroy
 Feb 2020 Alona
Dr Peter Lim
Life is not made
for redemption
neither for self-degradation
nor self-condemnation--

even nature in her wondrous splendour
has blemishes--weeds among flowers-
sunshine stolen by stormy thunders
ripples crushed by swelling waters--

how many solemn vows
are made by stricken lovers
how often are they broken
causing tears to fall like showers--

every love has some element of doubt
affections' intensity differs  in-between hours
the heart has its irksome ups and downs
it might break in rough seasons but somehow recovers.
 Feb 2020 Alona
Dr Peter Lim
Here's the first line
................................
it doesn't sound right
prosaic,  sterile, dry

I'll try again
*****
I quite like
shall start on second line

stuck for words
???????????????
I'll adjust the first line
OK, what follows seems fine

soliloquy 1
(  I have laid the foundation)

the pillars I have to *****
balance they must
and hold the main-frame
shouldn't be too low or high

(soliloquy 2: if I fail, the whole structure
would collapse)

I have no intention to rush
patience is what I require
from the workshop of my mind
and storeroom of my heart-   tools I must find

(on looking back-
that stage was my forging
heart, body, mind
the gruelling and testing)

(soliloquy 3)

now I re-examine
what's in my design
every word is like a *****
that must not misfit--to be fine

how I sweat and labour
into the project myself I surrender

the minutes tick, then the hour
the building is taking shape
behind schedule? Never mind!

at last, through the window
I look from the building done
how lush do the flowers blow
under a warm and smiling sun!
 Feb 2020 Alona
Perry
Comes and goes
 Feb 2020 Alona
Perry
I've drank the finest of wine
Down to the bottom of the bottle
Only to witness an ocean alone
Barely surviving my own hands

A fire burned through my viens
That was blew out by the wind
Breezing through the leaves
A calmness that sits with me
Before calmness dismisses me

I walked across the tallest blue sky
Where wide winged birds soar high
Til promises of white clouds turn grey
And so there I fell with the rain
Dripping through the lowest gutter

Many times I was buried, lying in dirt
Like a grave, needing no help
Finding the dark inside of myself
But I always rise with the blades
Of the greenest fresh spring grass

No matter what feeling I catch
None of them seem to everlast
 Feb 2020 Alona
Cody
Busted
 Feb 2020 Alona
Cody
Paranoia creeping in
Setting me back a whole 10
All these feeling are starting to win
Im caving in , im caving in
The weight will gain
Through hell and the pain
Ill walk carrying all the insane
When will i decide its enough
Instead adding fuel to the flames
 Feb 2020 Alona
Glenn Currier
In the first light of dawn
fog shrouds the trees
and gentilizes the landscape
softens hard edges
unifies everything.
What is the fog telling me?

Subtract the number of details
that consume attention and energy.
Unify the landscape of life
into something more simple.

Maybe I should listen to the wisdom of the fog.
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