Written Relief

I'm a mutt, and a poet. There's a lot of people out there like me, who feel there alone. Maybe my words can prove to them that they're not.

[thoughtkick]

“I love you like a child looking at the stars without being able to touch them.”

— Unknown

[perfectquote]

“Dear mind, stop thinking so much. I need sleep.”

— Unknown

[wilwheaton]

[buttonpoetry]

HOPE YOU’RE OKAY, AND EVEN IF YOU AREN’T, YOU CAN JUST BE by L.E. Bowman , from their book Shapeshifter.

[wilwheaton]

“It will not be enough to simply reverse Trump’s policies or unwind his executive orders when a new Democratic president takes office. The next administration must commit itself in addition to purging the aesthetic rot of Trump’s second term from our national life. Detrumpification must be celebrated as an act of victory and an exercise in joy.”

—

The Immanent Joy of Detrumpification

Every single person who voted for him, every single person who supported him, must be forced to wear a scarlet letter for the rest of their hopefully miserable lives.

Never, ever, let them forget what they did, and make them pay.

[coolcomicbookcovers]

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

[nickcook]

Note to Torre 2025

Do you remember back,

back when I was the boy who blocked his own shot?

You were the happy emo

Sitting in your car till 3am talking and singing

Taking back Sunday at the top of our lungs "It's you I can't deny"...

Back before I went "Counting crows" and you went EDM,

There was "Sick puppies" (white balloon) and "Boxcar racer" (there is)

We were a couple of kids,

Who thought we were Cory and Topanga,

With no clue we would crash and burn later

Despite that we stayed close,

Neither of us wanted to become strangers

Now you're on the other side of the continent,

I'm still here,(making my own way) your biggest fan, separated

Only by distance,

I see you out there doing your thing,

And absolutely killing it.

[nickcook]

Seeing your face as I shut the door

Happy or sad either way

Untitled 2024

It kills me every time I have to leave,

Because I know what it's like

To be left behind, to sit there

And feel so alone,

I don't like the idea of time together

Being nothing more than simple

Messages on the phone, accompanied

By quick little chats about nothing in particular

Yet here we are, I'm on the road,

Heading away from our home,

And it's dark out here,

Headlights and rain drops in front of me,

But that's not what I'm seeing.

In every light filled droplet,

I see a memory, and a possibility,

You see, in the future selflessness

Is a must, it's not about me,

It's all about us.

[lisamarie-vee]

[sonofshermy]

Big Mama Thornton with the Muddy Waters Blue Band, photo by Jim Marshall

[leonardospoetry]

I used to write as a way to fill this void.

This emptiness.

But now I write to feel it.

To put my hand through it,

grasp and bring back what I can.

It is my muse. This ever present

absence.

Pay attention. Can you listen

to the silence?

The mother to all music.

Can you feel it? The promise of

a birth.

An echo of a present

still unseen, still

unknown.

[fairydrowning]

Jean Cocteau to Jean Marais, 1939 / E. E. Cummings / A Warm Day by Louise Gluck / "Looking East" by Sara Linda Poly / "In the Stillness" by Sara Linda Poly / Debasish Mridha / Picture is from the Pinterest / Albert Camus / Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup by Emily Dickinson

[syntaxandsemantics]

I've left love on the kitchen counter, next to the odd-shaped sink below the window, light streaming in, soaking warm and slightly rotten, soft and bruised from all the fingers can't help but feel the gentle flesh, imagine the taste and leave it sitting, waiting to be claimed. i'm sorry we couldn't keep it, fresh and ripe we loved like a promise slipped from lips to floor, saved just enough to be forgotten next to the breakfast dishes by the morning glass bright and still, life creeping in atop the bench, love left, I have.

[nickcook]

Good bye for now

I just started to text you,

The usual "good morning I love you"

Then remembered there would be no answer.

Three bad weeks, 12 hours in the ER,

A single 4:30 am drop-off,

And a few tears in my eyes,

In the parking after saying good bye

My body hurts, I've been up 24 hours now,

Empty stomach, and I need sleep.

Still, this is nothing,

Compared to what you're going through.

I cant imagine what it's like to be you.

Feeling broken down, and alone, tired of fighting.

Wanting rest, feeling like giving up,

Or giving in to your past, the negative thoughts.

No visitation, and very brief phone calls,

You're getting help though, proper meds,

And professionals to talk to.

I am still here, waiting, hoping for the phone

To ring, and your voice saying I can come get you.

I hope by then, this poem is buried deep.

So far down in you're feed, you never see it.

You dont need to see this,

Its just something I had-

To get off my chest.

It was breaking me down.

I think I'm good now.

[beyondthefield]

Anxious Beliefs

You could've left; you could still.

I was so busy convincing myself you no longer loved me, loved us.

I was actively building scenarios and capturing snippets of your guilt.

I looked at those around me and pondered thoughts of letting go, thoughts of leaving you.

I am not ready, nor should I ever be.

You have not only loved but blinded me with patience, illustrated recollections, promised me of healing.

True love is not romance. It is the insomnia of two hearts and intwined lives never sleeping.

You could leave, as could I, any day from here.

But no one would know me as you have known me.

L. Southard 12/09/22

[wordrummager]

Almost Lapland I watch you work. Snow swirls outside. I brew coffee and open the tin of shortbread I made the other day. It’s so quiet, my thoughts are loud in my ears. Yesterday mingles with the almost-was and there is wonder in how we got here, with little worry of what may be. I’m too far south for the cold that often grips me. It’s terribly cozy just inside, so I move slowly, as if to hold onto a moment with you.

[sanders1665]

I went walking with old friends today,

joking and laughing,

and remembering some of the good times,

back before all these crazy days,

and separated by distance,

just me and the guys,

having playful and innocent fun,

heading back to the old family home,

seems like I had found that place again,

when it was just my little piece of Heaven.

We headed off to the park,

the one with the swings and giggling girls,

we found an old football in the bushes,

and played around to impress the girls,

Tommy said, "I like to play by my own rules,

so, you guys go ahead,

I've found my piece of Heaven".

We walked down the old river embankment,

and a few solitary grey haired old men were fishing,

one old timer said to Frankie,

"Would you like a rod and reel",

Frankie smiled and said,

"I love the quiet and my solitude,

so, you guys go ahead, this is my Heaven".

We arrived on the busy and noisy high street,

and the old bicycle store was open,

we stared with awe,

at the shiny and new racing bikes,

with 10 and 15 gears,

Billy said, "I love racing and thrills,

so, you guys go ahead,

this is going to be my Heaven".

Next door was the old dusty book store,

we whispered about those scary old stories that would come alive in our minds,

I said "Don't believe everything that is written",

and Eddie replied "The real world has already

broken my mind and soul. I prefer to live within these pages,

so, you and Stevie go ahead,

my heaven is in every book".

At the end of the street stood the old haunted house,

we stared at the broken windows,

and it seemed like there was movement behind them,

Stevie said "I can hear them calling,

leave me with the ghosts of old and voices in my head,

this is my fate and I accept my piece of Heaven".

I was alone when I arrived at the old family home,

my father was stood at the old rusted gate,

his shoulders were slumped and his eyes were misty,

containing nothing but sadness and loneliness,

I said "I'm truly sorry for being away for so long,

when we are called to our Heaven, we have to go",

he smiled gently and nodded with understanding,

I asked, "Where is mother",

he raised his head and looked up to the sky and said, "She was called to her own place in Heaven".