What is holding you back
by MargaretNet

Comment:
Rib cage, skull cap,
funny bone, silly hat,
Daddy's smug dismissal,
sarcastic wolf whistle,
walls and ceilings,
thoughts and feelings.

Freedom
by bobnospum

Comment:
I practiced for hours,
studied the techniques of others,
imitated movements and postures.
This was not the freedom to pursue happiness,
this was the happiness of pursuing freedom.

walk slowly when your path is dark and you will reach the light
by Abra

Comment:
unless you're in a tunnel and losing air
unless there's a tsunami
unless you come to understand the blindness inside of you
that makes all darkness irrelevant

look up
by jmritz

Comment:
1. face heaven
2. find the meaning of something
3. do both at once

Life is a Roller Coaster
by DCrest01

Comment:
You're strapped into a narrow vehicle of flesh.
Any divergence from a predefined course is met with terrible consequences.
When you figure out how to enjoy it, it's over.

Yes of course it hurts when buds burst.
by Mona

Comment:
I tried to explain my garden to my cardiologist.
I wanted to walk him through the affinity of species
on hand-placed stones. I cried about caterpillars.
The seasons meant more to me than a mortality clock.
Entire existences pulsed out and back. I guided life,
mostly watching and weeding, occasional touches.
I wanted him to know what my heart was doing.

Conflict!
by dtremain

Comment:
A heron eats, a salmon dies, there is no conflict here.
A nation goes to war, its people puff with pride,
then try some rituals of grief, then tire of killing,
the same as the other side. No conflict, only truth,
only the violence of pianos being played, perfectly tuned.

"Funny Shop"
A Poem of Great Worth
by Lydia

Comment:
Leaves made of silver filament
glimmering down from a pewter tree,
John Lennon's eyeglasses,
purchased but never worn,
banana bicycles, painted grapes,
the Rolodex of Zsa Zsa Gabor
with names angrily scratched out,
blades of toy helicopters,
tiny gods with broken legs,
suicide notebooks, gilded ziti,
and one item so precious
you'll never find it
among the dust and noise, even though
you came in with it.

And in the Summer Haze
by vawendy

Comment:
two fishermen sail out,
decks full of hope,
empty of envy,
among a million fish
who dream of sky and trees,
lacking only the hook of it.

Ghosts Love the Smell of Lemons
by skewsme

Comment:
Nobody knows why. Is it the rind?
Do they remember the yellow?
Does the sourness purse them back
towards life?

Of course, every ghost is a story,
unique, though not told,
but all are over, and maybe crave
a palate cleanser.