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 1° 
Kyle
I loved her so much,then she disappeares But all our memorys we made still shine so clear. My heart is shattered,all alone again. All i wanted was too see wasĀ Ā her smile, but now she gone.I wonder why
Is it my fault the more i think the more i cry.
It will get dark soon.
The white, yellow, and pink
houses will turn grey,
then black. The cacophony
of car horns will turn into
the chorus of locusts.
Summer's night will lay
a sheet of tranquility over
a city harassed by exigent
matters that matter not.
Soporific silhouettes will
soften the cityscape,
allowing us to escape
the frazzle of the hot day,
exchanging the frenetic
for the peaceful, the welter
for a sense of the well-being.
The susurrus of the evening
breeze blows the exhaust
of our polluted lives into
a distant day. Children play
in yards back and front as
laughter wafts through
neighborhoods like the sweet
scent of brotherliness, not the
fetid odor of finance and
foreclosures. There is a
sense of closure to this day.
As the sun sets, our eyelids
close, and we pray for the
soft rain for forgiveness,

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 1° 
w
hush—silence;

a regimented, simple production.
the clock makes sound, birds chirp, people are people all around— i see them, i am not of them, i let them pass through.

a car packed for a camping trip—the same trunk filled for the tenth time, most likely.

a certain focus—a gaze fixed somewhere in the distance between near sight and far,
a view undistorted, undistracted,
eyes conjuring hypnosis.
deadlines as games, percentages just a form of play, pressure nonexistent.
the order—a construction, all pretend, yet, more real than anything else.

momentum fuels momentum—
whole, and,

at peace for once,

mainly
blah blah the switch from intense work to total relaxation and then i write word salad trying to describe the feeling.
 1° 
xia
And the death of the star that was my love for you became the endless black hole that engulfed all my happiness.
a monostich.
 1° 
Left Foot Poet
i place my head beside her thigh
as if to sleep in her warmth,
I say Twosday,
she says,what?

I repeat, Twosday,

Yes, she say, it is,
pausing to consider
and connect
my dots:

Ha, you’re writing a poem!

ā€œhead connected to my thigh bone,
drawing from within me,
the necessary ingredients to
inspire, perspire,-and respire
this agglomeration of the
in and out of your surroundings
contacting pulsesā€

I think, ah,
she’s got it,
but all I say and
state with definiteness,
by repeating,
andĀ Ā breathing out

Toosday, Twosday!
Tues 1-14-25
 1° 
Nat Lipstadt
You Are the Texture

…………………………

~ for all of you,
you, you poet~



Impasto

ā€œ
is a technique used in painting,
where paint is laid on an area of
the surface thickly, usually thick
enough that the brush orĀ Ā painting-
knife strokes are visible.

Paint can also be mixed right on
to the canvas. When dry, impasto
provides texture; the paint appears
as if, to be coming out of the canvas.ā€


<1:47pm>

Cut & Paste

is a technique used in poetry writing,
we refer back to our visions,
heard words,
the eyeful, the earful, scents,
the reads read,
all in the mind’s palette blended,
thickly, but
when

the merging fused,
every word~in~coloration,
it is unique, reincarnation,
copying impossible.

The imagery, cut and pasted from thy heart and soul,
upon canvas,
your poems~pieces each appear

as you-are-texture,
you becoming out of, you,
the canvas.

<2:04pm>


Postscript*
………………

it is not lost on me that the
scars, our words, herein,
as we note all too frequently,
almost casually,
are, can be, those selfsame
words/painting-knife
employed
for our first and foremost canvas we utilize,

ourselves…
our bodies,
our
very selves
salved
Fri Jun 23
2023
 1° 
Brianna Brooks
Look at me then,  
Look at me now,  
A lot has changed,  
I've matured somehow.  

Some things remain,  
Like my love for all,  
Look at me then,  
Look at me now.  

Once depressed, wanting to die,  
Crying each night, searching for why,  
Answers eluded, I wandered in dark,  
Except in God's light, where I found my spark.  

Now happy as a dog, florricking in fields,  
Joyful as can be, my heart freely yields.  
With a smile on my face, I invite you to see,  
You can't miss God's love that shines through me.  

Look at me then,  
Look at me now,  
Younger me would be so proud.
Changing is great when you realize your changing for the better
 1° 
Lance Remir
I told others that your name

Is now a taboo; forbidden to be uttered

Because the mere mention of you

Hits me with everything we ever had

Hits me with everything we could have

Hits me to my core that I get stunned

By everything and anything of usĀ 

So your name cannot be said by anyone

Unless it is whispered by me
 1° 
Decembre
Sometimes I cope
By imagining you
To be perfect
And that if you were here
All would be fine

I’m not sure why
But I make myself
Believe
 1° 
Agnes de Lods
I come at three in the morning
I gaze at your tired, aching body
There were once strong muscles
protecting those you loved
from the cold
from the painful
flow of things

People are beautiful beings
meant
to exist
meant
to go away

Don’t be afraid
It is I who take your breath
when the time stops
I will take all of you
leaving them the body
so they could return it
to the ground
at the beginning
of a new life

I am here
I embrace tenderly
without dogma
without future
with silence
in stillness
with
unconditional
love
Crypto
Russian
Chinese
tease!
refine:
elaborate.
 1° 
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an ā€œusā€,
the anticipation of a ā€œhe and meā€;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
ā€œdo this in...ā€ request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the ā€œweā€ here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a ā€œne’er forgetā€
a duty large
a ā€œdo this in
remembrance ofā€
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.Ā Ā and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!ā€ and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.Ā Ā 

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
 1° 
David P Carroll
A hamster so small
Who lived in a plastic ball
He'd run and he'd spin
This colorful hamster
Always had a cheerful grin and
Then he'd nap in his bed
All day long.
Little Hamster 🐹
There are reasons why
some men are shy,
and women too,
when wearing silk,
lie on their beds
alone and cry.
No mother's milk
to satisfy
the cruel thirst
for love and touch.
The rule first
is to beware,
when wearing silk,
of men who stare
or fingers touch;
this much we know.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 1° 
Peter Balkus
I am partying hard,
every day and every night
at the Festival of Poetry
- the festival of my life.

My bracelets are
flickering in the moon.
I am singing and kissing flowers,
they are making me bloom.

I am drinking the sweetest wines,
that have ever been made.
I am ecstatically dancing
with naked silhouettes.

I am partying hard,
every day and every night
at the Festival of Poetry
- the festival of my life.

Spilling the ink of joy
until my very last breath.
There won't be any hangovers,
any post mortem regrets.
 1° 
onlylovepoetry
"With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow@With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about
today until tomorrow
"

lyric, Mr Tambourine Man,
Bob Dylan
<>

Rebel troubadour, always resrless, asking the obvious,
with answers readily apparent,
yet no one knows them out loud

Here we are,
two old Jews,
crossing paths at our shared six point star,
we aware, we know, that the
questions will likely be there tomorrow,'for they
have always there come the morn,

so we do not raise our voices anymore,
indeed,
the questions grow up best when asked softly softly,
and the answers,
blowing in the wind,
are clearest, sharpest obvious when
whispered,

So,
~forget about today till tomorrow,
until tomorrow comes no more~

And is this an only love poem?
To be sure,
Be sure.

For only love is the bridge between yesterday,
Today, and Tomorrow,
No matter what!
 1° 
Yuzuko
I’m so tired of it all
And all I do is sit will tears
I just want to end it all
I just disappoint my pears

Tired of lies
And tired of this way
Tired of my eyes
And tired of pain

Numb has me in a grip
And it’s not letting go
So I hope to wither away
I wish to die

Why am I stuck here?
 1° 
Agnes de Lods
So many colorful shards,
so many scattered books,
my Father left behind.

He connected the dots
with me, in space and time,
listening to the wind
when it was raining.

Absent and so close,
he used to say:
ā€œListen to what’s on the ground.
See what lifts us at night
when the birds go silent.ā€

He gave me more unrest,
he was the left hand
forced to write
with the right.

He believed in me
when the system
sent me away,
dismissed me.

He had hope
without medals,
standing steadfast
in the last row.

Now the body crumbles.
There is a memory
full of holes.
A counting echo—
he remembers,
he doesn’t,
it’s fine,
still hard
but his voice lives…

Time is blending
into a rusted chain
of events.
Tenderness,
resistance
to the falling apart
of departure.

He won’t come back.
He won’t recover.
The body is warm,
life doesn’t want to escape
the shrinking shell.

Sharp words cut helplessness.
Many nights still come
until the final return
to the embryonic state,
to point zero.

I am here,
into this deep night
being the witness to breath,
awake in the dark gentleness.
 1° 
emgwrites
I want you to open me carefully,
like a new book.
In half.

Slowly dragging your fingers across my center.

Before
you start reading.
Emgwrites
 1° 
jasmine
In darkness i search for light,
In light i yearn for darkness.
I solemnly pray for the changing tides.
I unwittingly am blind.

I whisper out to darkness.
ā€œThe voice of a succubusā€, he responds
I yearn for the light.

I whisper out to light.
ā€œThe voice of an angelā€, he responds
But i am unwittingly blind.
I yearn for the dark.

In the night i yearn for light,
In the light i search for darkness,
I pray for changing tides.
 1° 
Amy Herech
I knew something as kid
that now I have forgotten
Time tricks you into thinking
you are going forward
I was chasing being brilliant,
So they told me stupidity
was the prize of intelligence - I get that now
But I’m yet craving sagacity,
Then will I truly get it when I get the chance?
Because perhaps what I lost
is an ignorance that I’ll never recover
And I’ll never be as smart as when i was dumber
 1° 
Bipasha Dutt
Let me
Not deceive
You
With
A forever kind
Of love,

But,
I can commit to
Love you
For a lifetime.

I can commit
To love you
Till my last breath.
 1° 
Jessica B
And that’s who we are…
People.
Just….people

Time becomes our making.
Beautiful…..
&
Complex…
It came with me.

But What if I’m crazy?
What if the soul could lie.
And the roses never die.

🌹

It’s lonely….
To be different….

I know that…

Have Faith, they say…
I did see a rose that day.
 1° 
Marwan Baytie
Do not be sad
For fate is inevitable,
What’s destined will find its way.
The pens have dried,
The pages have been folded,
And every matter has already been settled.
So your sorrow changes nothing
It neither hastens nor delays,
Neither adds nor takes away.
 1° 
nivek
Sparrows on the lips of Jesus
in His heart, in His wisdom
not one falls to the ground
without the Father knowing
'so do not be afraid,
you are worth many Sparrows'
 1° 
Serhat Doğan
Sometimes
Simple things are
Complicated than
Complicated things
 1° 
Srishti
took a look at amiable
to be victim of
despair core
concealed blue
shivering soul
apprehension fever
sometimes we don't tell or hear we feel
 1° 
Julie Butler
I think I’ll write
another poem
&
name it after you
use words that still confuse me
& then
use them like they’re glue
throw lids on my good mornings
all misread and reused
pretend every day is Sunday
sleep in &
come to
I’m
driving myself crazy
play the same songs
and peruse
the head I use to love you &
the bones inside me too
I will not rush it like tomorrow
won’t try to
burn a tiny wick
still I just
fall asleep to you
writing a poem like
a wish
Life is a just like a book
Everyday a page
Every month a chapter
Not a poem
 1° 
Bekah Halle
ā€œThe Establishmentā€ has been tarnished by
Entitlement, abuse of power…
Neglect…
Trauma —
Absence of soul;
Values and beliefs have left a vacuum.
Where we need to return to the Ancient of Days for the true source of power,
Beliefs and
Life —
they forecast it,
we do not listen any more,
just check the window.

the radio is old, retro,
gift for a birthday,
arrived late we did not say,
not
wishing to upset.

headlights flash, sheep
on the road,
the pheasant run, a pleasant
run, minding squirrels, other odd
furry things on the road.

hurt no living thing.

it rained all day, new
dress on the line, still wet.
 1° 
The Romantic
A *** never stirred, overheating
shows me
it’s okay to die with desires
they usually
are things we don’t need
similar to those who
carry their secrets to the grave
slowly cooking them alive as the days pass
only the heat under the ***
can relate to what your heart feels
it burns nonstop
not knowing when it is going to
stop
invoking angels
one by one?
 1° 
Jace Albine
Hello?

How does this go?

Anyway you love it

I'd caution yourselves to

Think about the innocence lost
 1° 
Callamasttia
I'm not asking you to be flawless
To ask for that would only divide;
flaws don’t reduce your worth
or dim your shine.
We don't have to be perfect alone
To work side by side
I'll compensate your flaws
and you'll compensate mine
 1° 
Arii
The pain
Of being around
You

Burns like a tire fire,
Hurts more than desire,
Tastes like
Brittle charcoal,
Stings
more than
Any promise you broke,

Burns
Li ke
A tire fire,

Hurts
More
Than desire,

Tastes
Like
Brittle charcoal,

Stings
Like
Every
promise I
Broke.

Being around you hurts more

Than being a

Joke.
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