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Old news
For years,a daily doseof newsof columns and debatereviews of dining, movies,films and bookshas been deliveredand devoured for breakfastalways dividedso I take the artwhile my wife take the news(her subscription — her choice)and in the evening we swapoften todaythe news are already oldbut I have maturedto columns and essays. When I moved in with herthe paper still was a broadsheetwhich made…
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Maybe futile
In vain we try to find our ways in everlasting gloom, we search tunnels for a breath of fresh air, we search, room to room, through corridors for the briefest divine intervention where can we find light In this never-ending shade, though, all hope has dwindled to despair. The elders tell stories from before when living above was still possible, when shadows were a blessing to seek a midsummer…
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Wisdom has left
Torn from its orbit the library vessel,untethered.is freeto seek out a worldwere wisdom is prizedmore than the weightof its ink blotted pulp. Free from gravity’s pull,the knowledge has leftin its wakeonly murder & greed,while humanity’s soulseeks new fertile soilunspoiltwhere balance may thrive. The library leaves us behind – ai generated art Today Sanaa hosts dVerse OLN where we can link up…
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forever if not
if not the for the thawthis midwinter daywhen sun would collapseto the toll of the bells, if not for for the snowforgotten the corpseof intentions once spreadto the wind of the organ if not for the twilightnight would stand strongagainst hope of renewalletting death to prevail if not for the wordsthoughtlessly spreadbreeze would fair betterburied at sea. if not for the hopethat tides would…
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Hunt for uniqueness
Instagrammed teensIn their shoplifted gloryseek adorationdevotion and passion byfollowing othersdreaming of influenceby likeness to likesonly to be swipedsheined and discarded,tossed into samenessbelievingthat hunting renewalin exposure to networksis the same as uniqueness. Instagram teens (AI created) Today De hosts dVerse Quadrille with the word lift. I searched for words containing lift, and…
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Bodycount
“The Old Year’s gone away/ To nothingness and night “:John Clare “ The Old Year” (ii) We never cheeredfor the oldno fireworks for what’sbest discardedburned to be forgottenlike my unsent love letters;we went to bed before midnightonly to be awakenedby frantic fireworks (iii) Nothing newunder an absentminded sky,echoes of explosionsstill remind usof present, past and futurekillings;still the…
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Tethered to its gaze
Beneath the canopies we’re tethered to an unblinking gazetorn in fear by lidless eyes,where there is fun and gamesfor some to bleed from teethforest-fear of retracted clawssnakes, disease beneathwith leeches, ticks and thorns Let’s wade through bogsbefriend the biting bugsGamble, gain for loss of livesbe bound by fever, lostwhile tethered to its gaze. Silky Owlet / Photographed in Papua New…
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monocrome
…in a state of waiting i could not care if anything i did would mean a thing, unobserved the sky, the trees and wind carried on on living while i focused on producing white noise to speed up the passing of time to obliterate the memories of what i did and didn’t do to freeze that time when all was perfect and though i don’t want time to end with my ultimate passing the knowledge of everything…
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Until it's time…
Afterwards in the temporary morguethe corpses whispered putrid storiesto the twilit void they once called home.They repeat the revolutionary versessang to a riot-geared audience, theirbutchers with cattle-prod arms. Theywhisper of a future never to be seen,a shining dream, an echoed legacythat darkly reeks inside their parlor.We wrapped the corpses, studentsworkers into records to be kept…
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No plows this year
Imagine thunder from artillerythe reek of mud and fleshthe fog-horn panic when we seeka subway safety belowwhen the war we never wantedcloses in;and I pray for ironwork of gunsfor bombs, grenades for enemies to dieinstead of us. and yet I crave for fairness and for peacefor swords that turned to plows.and deep within I knowmy foe must share my crave. Image generated from the first four line of…
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Gazed
Beneath her bangsthat sultry gazeenkindlesin my flesh and minddesire, lust and lossof plansexcept to falldevoted on my knees,beggingbeggingher to tethertightly meor forever set mefree to seekmy fortune inforgetfulness alone Generated by Dall-E using the first three lines as prompt (she shure has a lot of fingers) Today Punam hosts the Quadrille at dVerse and the word is Bang. December 9, 2024
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No Cakewalk
Far from a cake-walk, going from seasick sailors to bakers,with a hygienenot keeping pacewith consumer demands,Frasse, Janos and Hildingmade me awarethat birthday cakedropped from the topof my wishlist. With an unsavory mixof Freud, dough and snotblended with Chaplin,the “Cake”grew to a traumathat still makes me sickwhen exposedto an abundance of whipped cream. Today Melissa wants us to write…
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Tomorrow, Forever
Two AM.A sullen wind pulling the pine trees bidding farewell.Alone, as you can only be among strangers in an asylum, I hear voices from the corners. Accusing voices of promises broken from the turbulent past. “You pledged me an orchard, forever sunshine, a velvet sky were you drew stars” Around my scars the skin is bruised, voices rippling through my muscles. Convincing me to rip my bedsheet,…
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Thankfully you
… and then we danced, without a thoughtembracing a solitude broughtbeneath the empyrean skyall alone and entwined as treesin moonlight and sunshine set freeto survey with sensitive eyesalloy to one, being of twonow together alone we’re gluedforever each other untied. By Tylwyth Eldar – Own work, Public Domain, Today Grace hosts dVerse with a form new to me, the Nove Otto which is a 9 line 8…
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The predestined fall
The shallow orbit we ridethrough lesser known backwaterswith only Brodavian alloysto protect against the cosmic voidwe traverse bringing us closerand closer to the farthest pointof our journey that in fourteenhundred mondi-revolutionswill end our Portican expeditionto annihilate of the little liveswe have known. In the mean-timebetween birth and destructionwe like the robbits we sentbefore us,…
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Flowers
Within usthis flower, a willmaking better, a wantto supportto help with what’sgood. With not withoutthe casual wontto destroyand consumeto feel betterbut steal from the poor Why is it strangethat our flowers have withered? Flowers in a glass vaseJohn Constable Today Lisa hosts the Quadrille at dVerse, and the word to use in our Quadrille is with. As usual 44 words in the poem. As for the…
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Coward alone
Look at the starsLook how they shine for youAnd everything you doYeah, they were all yellowColdplay, Yellow (2000) Alone by the sea I stand, I stare and I lookat what was lost, what it took by the waves atmy feet, the sand in my socks, what’s lost to thepast when we were those two gazing at stars when, by the beach, I gaze and I lookfor you in the past in the glare of clouds. howechoes of…
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