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Bonnie 4d
A fiction is woven in silence
the worn out shoes at the door
a house rule observed in compliance
they're neglected and piled up once more

discarded yet thrown all together
worn in but stretched to the sole
it creates a softer creased leather
but odour combined takes it's toll
A brief humorous aside from a prompt "Shoe"
facing online screen
my harnessed heart hardens
        harassed collectively
An Anti Haiku
notes :
etch//my harnessed heart hardens / harried collectively / in muddled company /living the exhaustive betray online / engraving on the permabrain with harrowing / events of foreigners / strangers / and those punished by history / never passed  / just processed / repeatedly and refined / fits of mistruth teething missionarily away / peppered and interjected with visionary ads, funnies, farces and gossips / then follows enraged and reactive whippings and opinions / but what really takes hold / is the fear that comes when their is nothing to fear /fear installed undergrowing basic life
additional notes :
existence relaxed becomes a persistence/strained/an aimed thing that comes/when their is nothing on your plate/biting back/everything surrounds tight but nothing is attacking/nothing is wrong... yet/but your anxious mind knows all the things/reading about this online/rejects comfort/a guilty attachment remains/and the harnessed heart hardens
Is there help for me, or hell for me –
that missing P, is the missing piece to my peace
Please excuse me while I take a ***,
smoking good ***, to get steamed like a pea.

And I’m sorry, I might flip you off
when these plans don’t pan out so well –
Saying I might handle my liquor quite well,
don’t push it to a point, of filling me up like a well
And even when we’re both so blind in love,
darling I still hope you’ll always see me well –
doing my, best to keep you well.

But...

She starts to ask me if it gets any harder –
as she’s trying to learn how to grasp it harder;
As it stands, she’s scared of making it any harder
but let me admit, this sort of thing, does gets harder

What do you expect, she fell in love with
a man, who never takes of his
heart’s armour.
Savva Emanon Apr 7
I. On the Nature of Smiles
A smile is a sneaky, invisible thing,
It creeps from the lips without flutter or wing,
But lo! when it lands on a stranger’s dull day,
It tickles the sorrow and shoos it away.

It travels through coffee shops, crosswalks, and queues,
It softens the sternest of daily-day news.
It has no real price, no receipt, no command,
And yet it could cradle the world in its hand.

II. The Grand and Glorious Hug
Now don’t underestimate (please, if you can)
The power of arms - be ye woman or man,
To wrap someone up like a parcel of peace,
To hush all the mayhem and grant them release.

A hug isn’t just for when sorrow attacks,
It’s also for moments when courage just lacks.
So squeeze with conviction, be warm, be profound,
A hug is a poem that needs not a sound.

III. Words of the Small-but-Mighty Kind
“Oh dear,” said the teacup, “I fear I may chip,”
Till a kind word arrived with a stiff upper lip.
“You're perfect,” it said. “You still hold the tea.”
And the teacup beamed back with revived dignity.

A phrase, just a whisper, can shatter the storm,
Can nudge someone’s heart back to hopeful and warm.
So toss kind words freely like petals or rain,
They land where they land, and they soften the pain.

IV. The Call to Now (and Never to Wait)
Oh yes, you may ponder, you may delay,
But kindness, my dear, was never that way.
It’s not for tomorrow or someday or soon,
It thrives in the morning, the dusk, and the noon.

So don’t be a waiter in life’s busy line,
Be wildly, ridiculously, wonderfully kind.
You never shall know what your ripple will do,
But I promise you this: it starts right with you.
Does AI have potential?
Yup, absolutely. It could be great!
Will it make people's life better?
Probably not....

Like every other
Disruptive technology before it
Seems to me that AI is here only
To improve the lives of the
Few tycoons that own it

True, AI will cut costs like crazy
Well, guess what? We're people
Not outdated expendable assets
We're not costs to be cut

'Oh, but I'm a high end specialist'
Make no mistake, sunshine
AI's after your job too

I suppose I've become
Sort of an AI luddite now
So follow me, good friends
And together we'll trash
Every big tech datacenter

And who knows?
We might even have
A billionaire's head or two...
Grab your pitchfork and light your torches! It'll be a hell of a party!!
Rew Apr 1
Some rely on cleaning machines  
the vacuum to **** up the dust,  
and one to scrub floors gleaming clean  
replacing same when those get bust.  
A hammer, these, to crack that nut  
as I think of the leccy price  
you can hear me go tut tut tut
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

No smart sweat-top, nor cut off jeans  
but **** nekked I swing my ****,  
to make dust motes fly in sun beams  
my mind flies with these, as it must...  
momentarily, till I'm pushed  
by brush in hand and in a trice  
I'm back to Earth to strut my stuff  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

A cloth, Acdo, a mop some bleach  
my **** high nose down as I scrub,  
recalling grandma's quick brief screach  
quickly cured by her back-hand rub.  
The bleach does it to me, I blub,  
at memories that sting enticed,  
as I rinse out my cloth in the tub,  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.  

Not for me the machine's hub-hub  
If offered I say " ain't my vice "  
I'll keep my Aladdin's lamp to rub  
cloth, mop and pail for me, suffice.
Nishu Mathur Mar 29
It’s an addiction, an affliction,
And I don’t know what to do,
For I am madly and deeply,
In love with Sudoku.

It’s unnerving, disturbing,
And I am going all cuckoo,
For I can’t take my hands off
A game of Sudoku.

In the morning, I’m yawning,
But my fingers are all glued,
To a pen on a Daily,
Immersed in Sudoku.

A passion, an obsession —
With numbers just a few,
Oh I can’t get enough,
Of this wretched Sudoku.

One to nine, how I pine,
For these numbers in a queue,
On my phone all I see is,
A game of Sudoku.

I run late, miss my date,
In a mess through and through,
My heart full of digits.
And head, of Sudoku.

An attraction, a distraction,
I sigh and sob and rue,
To be so in love,
With a game of Sudoku.

It gets worse, now a verse,
Such a long poem too—
Oh me, oh my,
All for Sudoku.
Written in 2014. No longer addicted but still love it. Know when to stop
neth jones Mar 30
so much squawk and squall    too many people echo the walls
abrasive  and i've no block but to ingest it
wrappered and trapped in this room-without-imagination
this is fusion   a batter of coms and intel i cannot separate and
rooms instrument clamps me   pressioned still          
                         and inflates me like a berry
my vision is expelled                      
my teeth pop out    my ears whine and whistle
my pores fire out tiny dirt pellets                    
                    and my friends duck for cover

all the bombast and sonic din that entered
and all the gases combust from within                          
         I go from ‘surprising’ and ‘absurd’
                                to full on percussion and detonation

what did they do   to deserve a friend like me ?
it’ll be some time    before they enjoy a good meal in company
one without p.t.s.d.   revulsion
and  (without a choice)  in memory of me
Rew Mar 22
Though the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed      
it made its nest among sharp cacti plants    
then caws out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
On return to his nest ***** and proud,    
to bill and coo to find then squeak, " I can't "    
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed...    
    
So he lived, celibate, not on a  cloud    
no Ma to confide, no sis, Pa, or aunt      
tho' he cawed out oomegoolies very loud,    
    
And no mate to mate that he could've wowed    
his world lacked even a sniff of talent      
tho' the Oomegoolie bird was well endowed,    
    
That's why you'll not see these flock like a crowd    
and twitchers sightings are now somewhat scant    
tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud,    
    
Wrap him stiff, at last, in his spiky shroud    
There was no hope for this would be gallant,    
Tho' he cawed oomegoolies very loud    
The Oomegoolie bird was well endowed.
Aaron Beedle Mar 17
Tuesday: **** was black and smelled of sulphur.

oh wait, this is my **** diary.

For those of you interested,
I'm indigested. Well, I suppose we're all indigested.

I'm off the water, on lemon and lime
and wouldn't you know it combined
with my strange state of internal affairs
to create a concoction that's up in flares.

They found undigested
gum and erasers
an unopened packet of quavers
several loose fillings
and an unopened pack of heavy duty nasal razors.

Alright I might be embellishing the truth a little
the situation's been fickle,
but my research mostly finds that
eating is the issue.
About: Lifelong irritable bowl syndrome. Yup.
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