Our world

Has always been

Aflood, both literally

And figuratively,

And we drown

In indifference

Every day,

And everyone dies

Because of it

And in spite of it

Either literally

Or figuratively

But I cannot recall

The last tiime

It took this long

For us to see

What we were trying

Not to see,

Were we this dead,

Not literally

But figuratively?


It’s a shame there has to be a tragedy before the best in people will finally shine.

E.A. Bucchianeri

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it never goes away,

the strange feeling

of being anywhere

but where you are

at the moment,

your body separated

from your thoughts–

you can hear

the sound of blood

as it rushes

to your feet,

but they stay rooted

to the spot

you had mentally left

a long time ago;

where do you go

from here,

but more importantly,

how do you come back?


“The best way out is always through.”

Robert Frost

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Out of Sorts

There’s always someone

Sitting on the floor

Looking skyward

Not keeping score,

And it feels weird

To bring an empty cart

Out of a shopping mart,

And have nothing

On your list checked off,

And to drive around

All night on a weekend

With a stomach

Running on nothing

But pure wanderlust;

When life puts you

Out of sorts

You have to do

Whatever you can

To gather your thoughts!


We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

Oscar Wilde

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The Sky People

we have our eyes

on the sky,

at the clear blue of it,

at the sunset, twilight,

and the night of it;

our hearts forever

one rainbow away

from bursting into colours.


“They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.”
Tom Bodett

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do you still lose

even if you win?

an earthworm

worms its way

out of an anthill,

bringing it down

in the process,

the ants may

devour its corpse

one day,

but would that

absolve the worm

of its sin?


“Who you are tomorrow begins with what you do today.”

Tim Fargo

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Isn’t That Write?

Three micropoems:


Tonight I shall write

Like never before,

With my left hand,

And my right brain,

To make even less sense

Than I did before!


How can you hope

To be written into

Someone else’s story

When you are

Unwittngly writing

Yourself out of

Your own little tale?


We used to read

Because we

Could not write;

We would then read,

Because we

Wanted to write;

We read now,

Because we

Write too much!


“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”
Jack Kerouac

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it may leave

a little scar, but

we should leave

before the leaves

can leave

the fragile branches

that leave

them feeling a little

frail as well;

we should leave

it at that

before it leaves

us feeling left out

from whatever’s

left of the world

we once thought

would never

leave us alone.


“I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

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No Winners Here

Why do spider-like,

Dark apparitions

Run away scared

Only when you

Decide not to

Run away first?

When both begin

To lose at

A game for two,

It gets layered-

A layer over layer

Of profound inanity,

Until one of you

Breaks down

And loudly declares

That it is foolish

To chase after

Your own nightmares,

That it is foolish

To be chased by

Your own nightmares.


“Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.”
Ransom Riggs, Hollow City

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