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 Apr 2015 Kenshō
GailForceWinds
I woke up this morning
A smile on my face
I didn’t think I could be happy
Trying to keep up this pace

I’ve slowed it down some
Cut some things out
I want to be happy
Isn’t that what life is all about?

It’s impossible to do everything
So why do I try?
I end up exhausted
With tears in my eyes

I’ve been running and running
Like a hamster on a wheel
It’s time to relax
And regain my zeal
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
spysgrandson
I forgot  you were there, hiding
under winter's slow, grisly grip

only ten days into spring
you made your return, myriad mounds
pocking my pastures

dead center, in one of your proudest heaps,
I teased you with sweet pear, just to see your ranting red industry
though a tiny roach occupied half your tugging army, its only crimes
being live birth and waddling through your masses

I forgot you were there
hunkered in the wet, wormed soil
patient, until ninety and one degrees brought you
to the desiccating ground

you had not forgotten me, had you?
for you sent a  special sentry from your brigades to find my foot,
and welt it with a welcome back kiss

in tomorrow‘s heat,
after the soldier’s scratching, martyred memory fades,
I will  forget again, though winter
never does
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
Jeffrey Pua
Her neck is ivory, wall, tower.
Lips, small, fragile
And are cardinals, yet,
Her eyes clamber, over—
Her eyes are flowers
On the trellises
And her forehead
Needs a kiss.*

© 2015 J.S.P.
Draft.
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
Francie Lynch
Chocolate in,
Chocolate out;
Eating chocolate
Makes me doubt
The lease I have
With Hershey.
But I'm not
In a hurry,
I'll sit here
And not worry.
I'll give a wipe
Then scurry
For another bar.
But my gut's  feeling's
I won't get far.
Happy Easter
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
Francie Lynch
I'll have a bite
To eat -
A cup of wine,
Some broken bread;
Set them all at ease.

I should sit and wash
My feet -
A water bowl,
A ragged towel;
Clean off the dust
From off the street.

I'll disclaim
I'm a traitor,
Run to temple,
Hang out later.
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
Francie Lynch
BOB
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
Francie Lynch
BOB
My girlfriend's girlfriends
Have a friend,
     Whom
They demurely refer to as:
      Bob.
He's ever-ready,
Like the bunny,
Current, never late;
And yet he'll never
Ever date.

He's no fireman,
Or a cop,
More Chippendale -
They say he's hot.
He's not needy,
He's out to please,
From what they say,
He likes to tease.
He's not a boy,
He's not a toy.

Later, when the deed is done,
He's not one to kiss and run.
He's the Alpha
And Omega,
He's the cause
Of their hysteria.

Bob surely has a way.

And should the girls
Play hard to get,
Bob's not one
To sit and fret:
And should the girls
Still want to play,
They replace
Two Double A's.
BOB: Battery Operated Boyfriend
 Apr 2015 Kenshō
stacey renei
Isn't it sickening this life we live?

Every day someone dies of suicide,
Every day someone loses their mind,
Every day someone cries,
Every day someone looks for something they can't find.
This is just a short poem and I hope you guys like it anyways. Please press like, leave a comment, and follow me. I'd really appreciate if you guys message me too. Everyone needs a new friend once in a while. Who knows, maybe we find a friend in each other.
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