the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.

haiku

by rcribay

a tree rustles
as sunlight and wind move through:
a wasp on my forearm.

in the basement

by Julio Chapluzki

the deed finally done,
he smiled uncontrollably
as the last stone was placed,
as his work finally finished,
as his old life was buried
along with the body,
that once was his             .

justdoit

by David X. Hugo

all feeling left like falling rain
you’re in my bed i can’t complain
the thoughts in head i can’t explain
i want you here for me to drain
i want you here to cause some pain
and light the fire with the flame
you hand me dice to play a game
i’m bad at keeping myself trained
it is ingrained, i go insane
your car is still parked outside.

Considerations

by saxsquatch

I disregard the sunlight on most occasions

I hope for my sake I am not a fool,
yet I persist to act foolish

These are not wounds,
simply unplugged outlets.

Let the children watch, so just maybe,
they can learn something.

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