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Month: July 2017

SYstEM SYphoN

Posted on 29/07/201730/07/2017 by A2Kdavis

Without a skinned nose, ostriches – the lucky ones, that reliance has not graced upon staggered lines of feet, the worm-like growing by the warehouse road front where the humble waits, and fear becomes the heavenly home you leave. Go on and roll the tints up in the window, block the embers losing glow for…

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sum

Posted on 29/07/2017 by peterlebaige

sum the sum of love is never lost though death tears the page across burns the simple symbols of its gathering tear kiss and hand the heart’s forms to ash the sum of love is never subtracted from

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You Are Not My Entire Audience

Posted on 29/07/2017 by Editor

That music is turning my brain to mincemeat, That Japanese chick screaming those lyrics, “Bee bop around you” Too much longer I can’t handle, Vomit from the eyeballs at her sound, It was going cool until she took the stage, She’s lost the concept, She was there once but not tonight, She’s lost the moon…

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The Last Bridge Home -draft

Posted on 29/07/2017 by Editor

She thought she had better race home beat the incoming storm The lightening struck her a bolt from nowhere Knocked her from her bicycle Jolted as a bucking horse does its wrangler She bounced into a car coming in the oncoming traffic Slammed in to a brick wall leading on to the bridge she had…

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The Bunkern

Posted on 29/07/2017 by Editor

Sometimes you have to lead the way Way back they went West Auckland friends best off they lived But the “funky fruit fly” and the musican go back further 250 years tunneled underneath deep deep deep He’s trapped inside a bunker Driving fruitless projects labeled a lost cause Stuck in an underground cell He is…

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Dead Rabbits

Posted on 29/07/2017 by Editor

The past is the torch that lights our way, Where our fathers have shown us the path, We shall follow. Our faith is the weapon most feared by our enemies. For there by shall we lift our people up against those who will destroy us? Our name is called the dead rabbits dead rabbits dead…

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Silver Teapot

Posted on 26/07/201728/07/2017 by john keast

Were it not for the silver-plate teapot, the sky reflected on its creased flank, you would not know the grave was there. It is just a bed of pale dirt, seed striking among the scratchings of a little bird. This, though, is a fine place to lie; where any wind makes the trees shout, where…

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hail king malcolm

Posted on 25/07/2017 by Mark Prisco

Who cares when I’m dead 50 years? I leave you nothing but benevolence. Stable government.   I’m born again – this man who holds the pen is me & doesn’t even speak my lingo.   Lingo? WTF!

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Free base free verse

Posted on 22/07/2017 by Editor

What a lot of people forget Is the left wing and the right wing come from the same bird Dinner is shared The blood of our brothers and sisters come from all of us In the distance a telephone is ringing unanswered Panthers punctures with their fangs It’s what draws the blood Feed kitty Feed.

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sleight of hand

Posted on 22/07/2017 by peterlebaige

sleight of hand at high school with an upward sweep of the arm the boy would rake his hand back through his wiry hair look a moment to the side fold his arms even tighter shoulders hunched forward before carrying on to tell the story fourty years on the man does exactly the same that…

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ode to winter

Posted on 20/07/2017 by Mark Prisco

I stop the gaps between the silences and the murmurs of another room – a baritone talks to himself or a sleeping partner stirred between the sheets. Outside, the crystal street tree- lined birds discuss the seasons So long to spring.   Since I started to think this, a man with nothing else to do…

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The Politician

Posted on 20/07/2017 by john keast

God, the elections. The empty promises. It’s an auction – for the gullible. Who will believe me? Anyone ? We’ve seen it all before. We’ve felt the fiscal screw. The numbers never add up. I saw a politician in action. He was all arms and long boots. He was at the airport, looking for a…

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