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 Mar 2022 L B
Matthew Berkshire
I saw you there
a thousand years ago;
dressed in lace and moonlight -
black, but no, not the trendy kind,
opaque like 4 A.M.
My eyes could of been closed;
I felt you inside,
felt you in my stomach.
There's no metaphor there,
in my ******* stomach,
so deeply that you felt violent
Call it whatever you like,
just don't  you dare play it cool.
Gentleness, like antelope in the dawn,
isn't always what I need...
Sometimes you crave citrus in a
fresh cut from lifetimes ago.
 Mar 2022 L B
Matthew Berkshire
It's funny how the wreckage of a relationship
seems to be bigger than the sum of two people.

It's the same when the memories of our youth
tower over the reality of our childhood.

The Miami of our memory is vast,
but only Miami can be more Miami than Miami.

Some things burn out, and the embers gently smolder,
while others have a finite point of death, absolute and huge.

Death is so large compared to man.
So nebulous, and God I ******* love that word.

Some things should rightly be beyond the rules of language
little points made by little men
 Mar 2022 L B
Matthew Berkshire
I sat in the middle of the floor of an empty room,
and I started to unpack all the love;
love that I thought I didn't need anymore,
love that I thought I had lost, and love
that I bought on a whim during a sale.
I stacked it all like books, there on the sunlit floor
next to your grandeur and that sweater that I don't wear.
 Mar 2022 L B
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

              The Song of the Rotor-Tiller is Heard in Our Land

The tines are set for six inches

Today we harvest broken bits of glass
Fragments of old toys, bit of aluminum
A Sylvania flash cube still intact
From a picture taken decades ago

The tines are set for rich earth

Tomorrow we’ll plant sunflowers to sing
Slava Ukraini!” In the summer sun
Tomatoes, zinnias, peppers in their zones
A little sweet corn and more flowers for fun

The tines are set for happiness

In this little garden-world of peace
Between the bee-pool and the olive tree
 Mar 2022 L B
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

       President Biden: There's Going To Be A New World Order,
     It Hasn't Happened In A While And America Has To Lead It

(President Biden: There's Going To Be A New World Order, And America Has To Lead It | Video | RealClearPolitics)

                                             ­            No
The entire text of the body of this scribble is one word: NO.  No to the bizarre concept that the USA should be the leader of the free world, the unfree world, the world. No such undertaking obtains in the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the United Nations Charter, or anywhere else.

No assembly of nations ever elected the USA Supreme Bossy of the World.

Mr. Biden was elected president of the United States, not president of the world,  through a free, fair, and carefully observed election. He is not capable of executing the office of president of anything, not even a Rotary Club, but, hey, democracy means you don't always get what you want. At this point some January Sixer will shout that we're a republic, ending with "FACT!" or "END OF!" Nominally we are a republic, but the voting system is democratic.

But the relevant point is that no American president is the Leader of the World. Fact. End of.
 Mar 2022 L B
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                          Halftime Show – A James Bond Medley

          Arrangement by Cliff Clash, B.A., M.Ed,
          Choreography by Cliff Clash, B.A., M.Ed,
          And Ms. Feather Dream Jones-Clash, B.A.

In a dinner jacket from the theatre club
A sophomore spy-dances among the twirlers
Along the fifty-yard line all sodden with
The stench of muck and summer-sodden heat

The sodium lights cast a wicked glare
Upon the field and the concession stand
Where snackers in cartoon tees ignore
The blat of the tubas, the boom of the drums

The polyester uniforms now march away
While James Bond coughs in clouds of mosquito spray
I don't know of a high school band director who hasn't inflicted some variation on "A James Bond Medley" on a long-suffering world.
 Mar 2022 L B
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                           A Discarded Cat

She adopted us several weeks ago
And after the usual hissings and spittings
Was accepted by the other cats
And the yapping dachshunds? Well, not so much

Cinnamon-Cat loves to be petted and fed
She follows me about my daily work
With plants and plots and pots and honeybees
But she doesn’t quite trust me, not yet

But I’ll do my best; you can bet on that
For she is no longer a discarded cat
A fading daffodil
With a hung-dog look
Like the pages
Of a dog-eared book
Dear beautiful daffodil
I still love you
You may age, and die
But your essence,
And presence
Will lie
Within my heart
Forever

by Jemia
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