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The Song I Couldn't Write

Inside my head the tune does play
the melody so sweet
Like the rhythm of a summer rain
as it falls upon the trees
As I feel it flow throughout me
it gives me inner peace
But as I try to add the words
the pain brings me to my knees

It's not for lack of knowledge
nor are there too few thoughts
It's not for lack of love
battles won or battles fought
The words are all around me
drifting in and floating by
When I piece them all together
they come out a woeful cry

Why My Poetry Sucks (Title prompt)

Too tired
To get inspired,
That's when it happens
That my poetry sucks atoms
From the atmosphere
From my feeling ionosphere
Electrons electing Trump
Every time he gets up
To the next podium
To pause for silentium.


If Only

If only earth was free
From being possessed by us,
Yes, all these humans.

If only this were true
Terra wouldn't suffer us
And our illusions.

If only sanity
Was more than a mere by word
To buy us all out.

If only honesty
Was the only thing still pure,
We're dillusioned with owning.

If only words were real
But they're also made up
Of symbolic lies.

If only symbols
Could make masters of our will,
Ourselves alone owned.


Painting of a Ballerina (Haibun)

She is the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker. In this Christmas Season’s performance by our community ballet company, several local talents make their debut. I do a few thumbnail sketches of this dancing soloist. The lady sitting next to me leans over and indicates approval of my last sketch. She reveals herself to be my subject’s ballet instructor. Some days later, I meet the aspiring ballerina in a cafeteria.
the sugar plum fairy
in the land of sweets~
Lynda Dyanne

Rainbows in a Puddle (Titles Shop)

Two rainbows in a new plashet,
A spectrum coloured by the light,
Reflected at the day's sunset.

A puddle freshly teardrop wet,
A looking glass ~ a mirror bright,
Two rainbows in a new plashet.

And where the splash and gleam have met,
A crescent conjured so bedight
Reflected at the day's sunset.

Though quite a tiny pool, and yet,
A magnum sense of hued delight;
Two rainbows in a new plashet.


Being Unique

You are not boring, you are not weird, queer is word, discovered by the ones who fear us different birds. We are different… but not only are we not the same, we are all unique, our own selves that are loved in different ways. In this world, no one is the same, there are the groups, categorizing individuals, it’s a hierarchy of what's the most suitable. I don’t fit in that hierarchy, neither might you, but that’s what makes us unique, we're pretty mystique.

Injustice, South Carolina style, 1944

A liitle black boy
a frightened child
denied meetings with his parents
deprived of an attorney
for nearly three months
incarcerated fifty miles
away from his home and family
in constant danger of being lynched
if they tried to see their little lad.

Forgive and Forget

'Forgive and Forget'.
It's as easy as uttering the phrase.
Breathe deep! Count to ten,
remember the love that was there.
So I try.
I promise, I really, really try.

Forgive the names they called me.
Forgive the labels that stuck.
Forgive their expectations that were so high -
or maybe I had sunk to low.


Your words of love
bring me to tears
but when you speak
to me in tongues -
my body weeps.


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