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JR
Jane A. Rug Jun 02, 2026

Extreme anguished agony courtesy cyber smokey and the bandits

accursed hellacious fate
only death be not proud can vanquish
shredding tapestry of my struggle
pessimally functioning
since birth wrought warp and weft,
hence the following
screams PayPal virtual theft
high and dry finances of mine
finding me tempted
to sever ties with the living
by exiting stage door left
impossible mission to summon forth
adequate escape velocity with ample heft
courtesy the following
stealthy and effed
up embarkation finding me
plunging ever deeper
wordsmith into a black hole son

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wpcpioneer22 Jun 02, 2026

Chapter 9

yesterdays ago

I saw long haired hippies in black and white

religious groupies squatting everywhere

telling fortunes under Shaman trance

drop a bit of change into the center of the tambourine

and watch them twirl like marionettes

on every corner of Mister Rogers make-believe neighborhood

 

she took me winter shopping at the mall

a Nostradamus at every entrance

Salvation Army Santas ring their bells like

Lionel Hampton

so grandpa use to tell me

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freddie.buijn Jun 02, 2026

My Dearest Sister

Please, let me take your hand again,

and lean back the years of our shared childhoods - 

When the days bled - oranges and tangelos,

and we gorged ourselves black - with berries

running our bodies dry with laughter - 

in our mad, headlong dash to the sea.

……………………


Do you still remember the sea - that day?

Her ice-cream blue tongue, licking at our hands and faces.

And you, your white knuckle-bone body - 


melting into pools of summer - 

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flj011278 Jun 01, 2026

The dogs of war

The bombs fall with the dawning of the morning light , shattering the hope of a new day , beneath pitch black clouds of soot and death 

Newly orphaned children wander through the streets of rubble as the fires smolder through the night 

The bloated bodies of friends and neighbors litter the sidewalk as the mourners come to collect their dead 

The wind now carries the echoes of empty promises , fatal lies and the betrayal of words unsaid 

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patrickgadoury Jun 01, 2026

Hungry Cat

On Monday I pack up my bag
and haul my week from flag to flag.
Two houses wait on either street,
with different rules for tongue and feet.

At Mom’s, the kettle starts to sing.
She calls me cher for everything.
I answer soft, I answer slow,
in half the French I almost know.

At Dad’s, the game is on too loud.
He keeps his worry in a cloud.
He says, ça va? I say, I’m good,
and we both knew where that stood.

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patrickgadoury Jun 01, 2026

The Frenglishman

I have English in my heart.

I know how that sounds for a frenchman. Like betrayal, maybe, until I hear what English kept from going quiet. English got the poems, the long thoughts, the little jokes I used as splints.

French is not in my heart.
It’s dans mon corps.

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devoejack24 Jun 01, 2026

A Requiem

I hear through our tears

a litany of  twisted betrayal,

your smooth wet cheek

flushed pink—salt tears

on crumpled cotton sheets.

Candle lit shadows three

A requiem vigil for two.

 

 

 

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juliemakhoul3458 Jun 01, 2026

Born from a Comet's Prayer

There's a flutter in me made of butterfly wings-

It hums when the stars lean close.  

I sip moonlight from chipped teacups,  

Trade secrets with unicorns who forget they're not gods.

 

Every time I walk barefoot through clover,  

Mother Earth remembers my name.  

They say I was born from an exploding nova  

That formed ice draped in pink and lavender skies and lullabies.

 

They say I was born from a comet's prayer,  

Draped in teal skies and lullabies,  

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crypticbard Jun 01, 2026

dutch revisions

"Dutch Revisions"

 

They called it Dutch courage,
as if a heart needed a bottle
before it could face the storm.

Yet I've seen courage sober—
steady as a dike at midnight,
holding back a sea no one else noticed.

They called it Dutch comfort,
meaning consolation thin as paper.

But comfort can be practical:
a lamp left burning in the window,
a chair pulled closer without a word.

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flj011278 May 31, 2026

Idolatry machines

Sitting in my chair, my heart begins to race as my vision distorts and the room slowly melts away.

Am I awake  and dreaming or dead And remembering?am I still here? Should I reach out? Can anybody hear me?

Holding on to what I thought was real. As the pieces crumble before me.

Suffocating , fear like the vacuum of outer darkness , feeding on my consciousness as the void envelops and swallows me whole.

I focus on the clock as the gears of time. Twist and turn before me like a living soul.