Alex Krivtsov shoots

Michael Marrotti writes

"Buried And Forgotten"

This breeding ground
of resentment
has grown in width
to contain the decay
of social relations

Another verb
as fast as a bullet
Another noun
as sharp as a cleaver
Conversations
that should have
never been spoken
The disruption of vibes
a tidal wave of emotion

This chapter
it haunts me
All I want
is to get even
The short end
of the stick
is placed
within my palm 

No compromise
in hatred
I'm steadfast
in my beliefs
Scorned for my
standards
It may be in the news
But decency is
minding your
own business
The good times
of the past are
buried and forgotten








Two colliding bullets from the World War I battle of Gallipoli.

Paulette Spescha-Montibert writes

Lord

Aren't You tired of the world
sometimes

the world is tired of You
at times

the world believes 
You are good
all the time
and
trying to be good
all the time
is very tiring

Lord

Arlene Corwin writes

After Brexit

          Circling Round Self-Interest 

I watch the news.

Scotland refuses.

Wants to go its way and wants

To stay in EU. 

It’s an issue.

Everyone has something that they want to clinch

And will not give an inch or forfeit.

How to beat what eats the issue

Makes you blind and binds you.

To defeat self-interest is the issue.

Take the long-gone League of Nations,

Its creation to end war - post World War One -

Did some good, but still it failed.

World War II was on its tail.

Came the UN - still extant. 

Now the EU, is it canting? 

Things start out with good intentions.

Nature’s thing is to evolve:

Grow, contract, break down, dissolve,

Replaced by new forms and conditions;

The self-interest’s hidden skeleton. 

Political by unintention,

Few convictions, few opinions,

I see pure idea and spirit,

Reason true and what's behind it,

What is missing and what is.

In this case what is, is always

Circling 'round, you guessed,

Self-interest.

 

Robert Lee Haycock shoots

Blow Your Raspberry

 

ANTIKARMIC

Ah! Those lovenotes I sent—
Valentines back I get,

all addressed OCCUPANT

--Duane Vorhees

Monica Oswal writes

Heirloom

My mother's bangles
do not fit my slender wrists,
they clink as I
take them off everyday
for safekeeping
and they clink
when I put them on
day after day.

My daughter,
a pink rose,
her eyes shades of gray and green
is born today...

I am a mother
to a would be mother,
her tiny wrists shall wear them
one day,
the heirloom passes on.
 
Rose -- SayuriEyes