Brightly Colored Ribbons

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“Poetry isn’t like any writing

I’ve ever heard before.

I don’t understand all of it,

just bits of images, sentences

that appear half-finished,

all fluttering together

like brightly colored ribbons

in the wind.”

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~ Lauren Oliver, Delirium

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Elfje:     (Cinquain)

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poetry

cannot read

between the lines

nor can it write

prose

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Haiku:

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humid air stiffles

blue skies nowhere to be seen

a summer deluge

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Poem:

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a young man lost in space
taking suggestions from everyone
couldn’t find his way to first base
didn’t even know how to have fun

made decisions knowing it would make others happy
took the easy road, jumping at the first offer
pretended a lot, always avoiding the flashy
he hid in the shadows, invariably the stalker

his life mumbled on, he didn’t grow up
a heart of stone, he was forever alone
perpetually content to be the runner-up
never the worker, just a wannabe drone

envious of the classmates whose lives blossomed
oblivious to the time which quickly flew by
never had an appreciation for the word awesome
sad beyond sad but could never cry

he died on a snowy winter morning
no family or friends to mourn him
not a soul who cared, no fan club adoring
no eulogy to be read nor a choir to sing a hymn

out of guilt this poem was written, because
every soul needs to be remembered, somehow

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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Enough

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“You do not read enough,

You do not know enough.

That is why you are not

poet enough.”

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Michael Lerian

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Elfje:

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mind

pay attention

see what happens

unchangeable laws of nature

matter

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Haiku:

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muggy already

summer mornings sweltering

noons cooling showers

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Poem:

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when you think you’re humble – you’re not
an attribute that cannot be bought
humility grows when you are thinking of others
when all colors and creeds become you brothers

the egomaniacs think only of themselves
never a kind thought to help someone else
the politician tries to straddle the fence
giving you all you wanted is their pretense

I am the best, you need to elect me
there are no monkeys in my family tree
trust me, I’ll never abuse my power
as I look down on you from my ivory tower

politicians need to take a lie detector test
promises, promises, will they do their best
can they dream fifty years from now
what will be the legacy that they will endow

naw, forget it, give me the power, give me the cash
forget the nigger, the spic, the stupid white trash
gimme, gimme, gimme, the face time that I crave
I’ll do my best to give lip service to all of the brave

why would anyone want to be a politician
is there really a soul with a humble mission
the pendulum swings from left to right
the voters will vote, it is their birthright

are these words an echo from the past
it’s not likely we’ll evade the political typecast
all history demands that it shall repeat itself
just another dusty tome languishing on a shelf

be brave, avoid the stereotype
vote for the humble candidate,
the one not given to hype
the one who smokes a peace pipe

cherish the fact that you can vote
don’t become an historical footnote
and when you can,
be the citizen who counts

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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