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Robert Ronnow Feb 2023
There are actual people
half woman half man
running mornings and
dream people in movies
half language half light.
Tomorrow is John’s funeral.

* * *

This is my minute
my moment
Oops, gone!

Anything can happen
if you don’t resist
Resist!

* * *

But who am I? You think bullets won’t
****? I’m the guy they put before a
wall and shoot then eat lunch.

* * *

Long as yr livin
yr havin that dream in
which yr killin the villains
w/o even needin a weapon.

* * *

If it was fun, they wouldn't call it work,
but it is fun. It's what we do, a bird
sings, dogs bark. We work. Sing bark work.
Honey, put on your shorts, it's gonna be 90 today.

* * *

How right is the rabbi!
"What a good and bright world this is if we do not lose our hearts to it,
But what a dark world if we do!"

* * *

We saw a barred owl
camouflaged in winter branches.
Bird of death (in myth), hunts down the dark,
floats to a farther tree, turns its back, and naps.

* * *

The sadness of summer, the silence of winter
you can’t sum it up in one more metaphor.
So don’t complain about the epoch you live in.
Go to Big Hidden Lake and jump in!

* * *

Down to negative calories, in deep snow
we find soft wintering rose hips, gobble them down.
First time for me a wild edible made a difference,
not just a delicacy. Then we snowshoe out.

* * *

Spring morning
flycatchers, jays, thrushes, a woodpecker’s loony cry.
A toilet flushes.

* * *

Zach
awoke from a scary dream
I kissed him back to bed

He asked
are all the doors locked?
I said yes knowing they would not hold

* * *

The republic may expire
but birds go on traveling, singing
in their best attire.

* * *

My plump cashier
has a new love.
Her skin is clear
and her line moves.

* * *

Desafinado means slightly out of tune which is not a problem.
It’s a fortunate condition. Zach just called from school sounding clear
and happy to say there’s floor hockey this afternoon. For me, another       cold,
slow Spring. How lucky!

* * *

At basketball I was reminded
the better players in their private moments
think on the ultimate reward. Perfect rest.

* * *

You come in our backyard, we go in yours.
That about sums it up. Assuming there are definable, accepted backyards.
Suppose it’s all one backyard and time is all one sheet of ice?

* * *

My son Zach said as a toddler he liked the old house
and he’s having a good time now at the new house.
We were lying together in the window seat passing the early morning       time,
late September and happy as I was I thought what’s running out is time.

* * *

The young women’s bodies were awesome. I appreciated
the couple of Muslim women who kept their bodies
covered. That was easier on an old man’s eyes.

Not that I wanted to change the American girls’ ways.
They seemed comfortable wearing underwear outdoors
and unaware, more or less, of the longing it provoked.

* * *

To invade a clean house
searching for weapons or insurgents, I agree
with the enemy, that is a sacrilege.
Not that I accept their god, and there could be,
hiding, a mouse.

* * *

I tell my sons
If some man tries to pull you into his car, fight
kick bite yell run punch curse scratch knife
make him **** you right there in the street
use your feet your fear your hate.

* * *

If everything seems under control, you’re not going fast enough.
—Mario Andretti

* * *

The river in its muddy symmetry
high water mark in Spring
is a god to me
in a way that I can be to a dog while thinking
or the sky is to the hanging apple.

* * *

A day, a new day, starts at 5:00.
Earlier than that it’s still yesterday,
the rags and dreams, the sweat and worry, the *** and laughter
of that day. The alcohol and aspirin, the sunset and machinery, the dinner       and toothache
of that day. The germs and friends, the sports and editorial, the gleam and
      dullness
of that day.

* * *

The key to success is cross out, delete, compress,
rub out, expunge, black out scratch out blot out,
censor, crop, shorten and silence.
Clip, cut, erase and eradicate.
Hate everything you write.

* * *

I will be saved
and spanked too.

* * *

Phil is on a movie diet. Bad movies in which the logic switch is turned off. Jumps from scene to scene like a cat.
Most ******* is hilariously obscene. Genitals like little animals. Snowplows hit potholes sending up sparks.

* * *

Make way for a future that’s irresistible!
Dust. Rest. Mist. Rust.
One day follows another until the last day.
And on that day, there will be weather.

* * *

Driving in traffic
80 mph, 80 y/o.
Turkey vultures shrug shoulders.

* * *

When an archangel
flies into your windshield
sing cuckoo!
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2023
coloring inside the lines is impossibly bleak,
with a hissing noise
atomic locomotive
rounds the bend,
extrasensory perception is not
a mindless gift,
it's a train station in the clouds,
tracking all my starting points to you,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.

you leave in opera
with secrets and grievances
under the radar,
and your ready-made
wings catch in the power lines,
you're coiling like smoke
in the arches of my cathedral,
a sense of elegant decay
while sweeping up the debris,
committing arson
with the paraffin of my temporal lobe.

yesterday's fairground waltzes,
ghosted lullabies,
and woodland hymnals,
set in a context not of
resolution and closure,
but of contradiction and assimilation,
break the bond,
away they float on purveyor belts,
one too many molecules,
one too many departures,
always on the surface of everything,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
Joanna Alexandre Jan 2023
Death came knocking in the middle of the night
He asked you to join him, death was calm and polite
He had watched you for a while, smiled as you said goodbyes
Death understood the pain and the love behind our cries
He was gentle when he took your hand and led you to the light
Death gave you a shoulder to rest on and he hugged you tight
Death was warm and inviting, he had a familiar face
He opened a door for you that led to an unknown place
Death stayed with you until long after you were gone
He still lets you come and visit in the dusk and in the dawn
Lou Alpha Jan 2023
Pluck thy feathers, angel,
To bless the world again.
But alas! Take care of thee
Or all thy effort is in vain!

Pluck them all, angel,
And be angel no more;
For in thy craving to retrieve them
Thou, angel, shalt fall.

Thou shalt turn into Daemon
To ravage these green lands.
Until wood and field consumed
Shalt turn into black sand.

In fight with a feathered one
A featherless shalt always succeed
And rob the angel of his precious feathers
Turning him, too, into adversary of greed.

One day, though, an angel shalt be reborn
To seek redemption for them all.
But as the reborn awakens
The greatest angel shalt fall.

Fear not, sweet angel,
The saviour shalt come.
Be brave and be kind
And the darkness shalt be undone.
It's for one of my stories called "Sanctum" (for now, at least... :) )
Lou Alpha Jan 2023
Rise, rise, angel!
Swiftly spread thy wings wide.
Fly, fly, angel!
And your's shall be the night.
Rise!
Emmy Jan 2023
There’s watercolor clouds on your cheeks
Won’t you, Wash your color
On over me, over me

Seems I’m fallin so fast
I can’t land on my feet, feet
My heart so swelled up
I can barely think, think
——
This hold you have over me
is something so different
Think that I’m catching feelings
Despite the distance

Oh, it feels just like magic
You got the Keys to my code
I’m a fanatic

Love all your angles
saved me like angel
And it feels just like    magic
It feels just like magic.
To my baby cakes
Isamarie Jan 2023
Ripe strawberries and apple trees.
Flowing fabric laying on the grass.
Playing soft violin in the wind.
An angel in velvet.
Putting jars of Cupid hearts in a tin.
A mockingbird singing a familiar song.
Bumblebees land on an exotic flower.
As they are so delicate but strong.

9-9-22
Haiven Oconnor Dec 2022
Brown eyed angel
Sent to untangle my tangles
Shown me the lives I would have in different angles

Trying to Beat my addiction like Cain did able
2018 was like having a tv but no cable
Never thought my life would become this mangled..
So I left to become something more stable
Just to Find 2019 sitting at my table
Thanks for saving me my brown eyed angel ❤️
This poem is about surviving addiction and how god always does his work through the ones that love you the most.
I know your dreams
for I am part of them
I walk between the folds of consciousness
you cannot see me
but you have come to know when I am near
from the moment you blinked in awe
upon your first vision of life
each day
my timeless purpose
your protector
the intricate weaving of hours
days
and years
those you have known
and those you shall come to know

the map of your life is written
and cannot be altered
when the day arrives
you will sense it
not in a flash
but rather a quiet whisper
I will be wishing you well
from this life
to the next
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