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 Aug 2016
-df
I'm surrounded by strangers.
Walking is so hard, everything is so slow.
When did time stop?
The chains are so
heavy...
My heart is aching,
my soul is shaking,
and my mind is breaking.
When did dreaming become a job?
I'm bounded by the unknown...
The question always lingering, like a bee hive that never sleeps.
There are silent tears that escape my soul.
When will this nightmare end?
And then morning comes,
and as I open my eyes, I become aware
that the nightmare
has only begun...

(-DF-06/21/16-)
 Aug 2016
Quinchet
I came to you in my dream last night
still wanted nothing to do with me. Thought if I met you there I could have you the way I always wanted to..
but my dreams reflected the reality
my imagination ran out.

So I said forget you finally
and took a flight through the clouds.

I was thinking you were the love in me but it was the other way around.

Now all that's left of you is a spineless slimy shell. A coward is a person to awaken the love in another with no intention of loving her.

Still grateful for the spark that made me realize I am the love in me
forever swimming
in the glorious river of eternity

and your lost scooping crumbs of what I left behind.. but even the crumbs need love and maybe that's your role. Wishing you all the best my not so friend after all."

  I am filled with all from above and I thank GOD I am WHOLE. So blessed the obsession is gone.
 Aug 2016
Roger Turner - Poet
I went fishing with two witches
Out in my new boat
There was me, the witches
Two black cats, and a little pygmy goat

We sat out on the water
The small odd group and me
And in the first few hours
Not one fish did we see

The witches looked on skyward
Grabbed hands to cast a spell
They said that this worked wonders
And then they both did yell

Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs
Lizards, and giant gnu
Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish
An airborne callipoe stew

Suddenly the water around the boat
Started to steam, and then it did boil
The sun disappeared, the sky went all black
And the clouds went the colour of oil

The witches both gathered the nets on the boat
As the fish came on up from the deep
They were out of the water and up in the air
And through this the goat went to sleep

Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs
Lizards, and giant gnu
Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish
An airborne callipoe stew

Fish were around us, high in the air
The witches waved nets as if mad
The cats didn't move nor did the goat
It was the best catch that I'd ever had

After a while the sky turned to blue
The witches sat back with a look
We'd netted hundred of fish from the lake
Now, they would have to be cooked

Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs
Lizards, and giant gnu
Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish
An airborne callipoe stew

I took the boat in, and docked on the shore
With our fish all strung up just for show
Everyone there asked what bait did we use?
I just smiled, for they weren't set to know

I go fishing with witches at least once a week
My freezer is full and then some
Their spell is amazing, it works every time
They say it loud, and fish come

Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs
Lizards, and giant gnu
Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish
An airborne callipoe stew
 Aug 2016
Mary K
The fog of forgotten memories
Blankets the cracking pavement
So nothing can be seen aside from yellow and white lines
and the bottoms of tires.
A slight drizzle begins to fall out of the clouds
But just as quickly as it started
the fog is receding
And the diluted colors of a vibrant city
pulse all around
Like a heartbeat from somewhere deep inside.
Muffled sounds of people come from somewhere,
come from everywhere.
Its almost as though its all a dream,
you can focus on one thing or nothing but not everything at once,
and everything seems too crazy to be real
But a pinch on the arm can be felt
And the dream doesn’t end.
Everything looks and sounds like its underwater
And the colors blend together until no colors exist at all.
The sounds get louder and everything is coming more into focus
And a symphony is playing
With the staccato of honking horns
And the shrill of constant chatter.
But its all hidden from the rest of the world,
the sensations fading as you cross the bridge away
And looking back, all that is seen is the fog and the road,
Making you wonder if you imagined it all in the first place.
New York City
 Jul 2016
Joel M Frye
Come to me with tears, my eyes have cried.
Laugh until you hurt, I've been that manic.
Deceive me if you can, I know the lies
we tell ourselves in fear. I will not panic.
Pound my chest in anger, feel my strength;
know I know your pain, yet do not feel it.
Tell me of your breaking heart at length;
words absorbed and heard the salve to heal it.
We together know we can survive;
after all, we'd chosen different roads and
gone our separate ways just to arrive
in time to hold up one another's loads.
You think you weigh me down, yet do not see
my burden's lighter when you lean on me.
Do you hear me now...my friend?
 Jul 2016
Luna Lynn
lost in a world that was once mine
it gets better or worse or indifferent
as it goes by
who knew it to be the healing i'd see
a bit of of bitterness over time
but you ask and i always say
i'm fine

the colors i see are complex in shades
some words are foreign to me
right from the page
in my head you say is a box of lies
just a shallow pity brigade
so ignore the tears in my eyes
hopes shatter and fade

pain is an excruciating promise
that the current host remains the strongest
misunderstandings and judgmental tongues
will clean the slates of blood from beatings done and i am left with
scars from all of this

kindness and love are rationed into moments more deserving
as if it is only when i may die
that you find me worthy
to shed a tear of hurt in an existence you don't know
yet you still mimic what's before me

a mockery you have made of total devastation
to a life once radiant with positive preservation
on mornings i can't bear to face the day
you throw daggers in my back
in accusations

this disease it steals my life
it has much ransacked my brain
but you,
you
you have taken everything else away

and i've nothing left to gain
(C) Maxwell 2016
 Jul 2016
Marshal Gebbie
Biden come and goeth now , quickly doth he run
Whilst wielding compulsions deadly smoking gun,
Coercing this allies need to restate
Defiance to China’s political take
Of tactical ****** in the South China Sea
And belligerence spat…. when we all disagree.

Like meat in the sandwich we twitch and we squirm
When thrown on the spot like an early bird’s worm,
Risking primary markets of pine tree and milk
Midst Asia’s burgeoning tourism’s ilk?
Kiwifruit’s sales meeting China’s demand….
Risk all this ….for America’s leveraged command?

Do we sit on the fence in a balancing act?
Or throw caution to wind, redress or retract?
Do we hang like the Swiss in neutralities’ air
Attracting contempt…. as both parties stare?
With superpower leverage approaching white heat
The decision demands that we’re quick on our feet!

A questionable pleasure to dwell in this spot
When the wrong moves consequence, clearly has got,
Too disastrous an outcome for Kiwis to call
Should China’s great markets vanish and fall?
Or the Western Big Brother’s umbrella withdraw
Leaving us, militarily, adrift once more?

Strong armed tactics, they both brandish here,
The quandary posed is starkly clear….
Shall we tip toe through the tulips, soft,
Or tell them all to.... GO GET LOST?*

M.
23 July 2016
Auckland N.Z.
 Jul 2016
Walter W Hoelbling
right in the face of all the everyday reports
about disasters near and far

why do we not remember
the beauty of our world
the people whom we know
who are quite wonderful  and do great things
    day in day out without much clanging
    of media cymbals or rewards

the teenager who saves a drowning man
    thinks s/he just did the natural thing

the union woman in the protest march for better wages
    believes it’s simply natural to march

the officer leading a child that lost its way
    home to the parents

the neighbor noticing that her best friend next door
    has not picked up her morning paper

et cetera    et cetera

they are the unremembered heroes
of our daily lives

methinks our media are too obsessed
    with all the bad news in the world
and over that simply forget
    that it’s the good things which allow them to report
also the less enticing aspects of mankind
 Jul 2016
Luna Lynn
my mind is weary
because my skin is black
the fighting never ends
we are murdered by enemies
who pledge to be our friends

my soul is tired
because my skin is black
they say move on from the past
as if our great grandparents
weren't working their plantation
disregarding the fact that slaves
have built this nation

my eyes are burning
because my skin is black
crying rivers of tears that lead to
oceans we never see
because American paradise wasn't built
for people who look like me

my heart is hurting
because my skin is black
will it be my brother next?
could it be my father too?
without the love of my life
i have nothing
and what if they take him too?

my skin is on fire
because it is black
a pigment i was born with
that i cannot give back
the darker we are
the more we are judged
the more we are killed
the less we are loved
so we turn to each other
to lift each other up
and now you call us racist
when before you didn't care
you only see a possibility of unity
and i think you just might be scared
we are now aware of our power
that you try to retract
did you forget who your president is?
hmm.. imagine that

we are all weary
we are all tired
we are all hurting
i refuse to tell my son he is less worthy
i refuse to see my daughter cry
and ask why we have to die

because our skin is black

all we have ever wanted was to be treated as EQUALS, as HUMANS, as PEOPLE
America you owe us that!
(C) Maxwell 2016
 Jul 2016
John F McCullagh
IT
It might have been beautiful, and certainly smart
Born with your academics and my poet’s heart.
It might have been witty, pithy and wise;
possessing your nose and my two emerald eyes.

It might have been evil; it may have proved kind;
the first of our brood was the last of our line.
Not that we ever will know, I suppose.
Just idle questions  geneticists might pose

It would have been born with ten fingers and toes
If left, unimpeded, for nine months to grow.
We were both too young, both too unprepared,
This life, unintended, was not to be spared.

Forty winters have passed since that fateful decision.
It was swept from our path with a clinic’s precision.
Now you, too, are gone, and that leaves only me
To mourn for our child not permitted to be.
 Jun 2016
Wanderer
I was held close on foggy mornings
Clouds rolling in to the tune of distant thunder
A tangled mess of gray sheets
Goodbye on the edges of our teeth
Looking back now through clearer lenses I know you better than I should
Lessons and years of laughter lie between us
Still, I slumber while watching traffic in my sleep
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