Y the inhumAnity?
WhEnce the pathos, the morEs
HItherto our sanIty
Whence ethOs inventOries
Actualization misUnderstood?
.
PrActice grows the cActus prickly
Thoughts amplify in bubblEs quickly
That come from those when boIled sickly
Y duplicitOus apOcOlypstickly?
Praxis made from troUbles' brotherhood.
.
MAn is a frAgile creAture:
Woman his bEst doublE fEature
JoIntly, theIr best teacher
Of what they knOw as dOuble creature
Volatile Union, stability... toward.
.
Take A bow
For the lonely vowEl
Insist all constantly
Spice them cOnsOnantly
SoUnd the Ümlaut when yoŪ shoÜld.
.
And Y
Each Y
Is Y?
Or Y?
PhoneticallY, introspectivelY.
About the Creator
Gerard DiLeo
Retired, not tired. In Life Phase II: Living and writing from a decommissioned Catholic church in Hull, MA. Phase I: was New Orleans (and everything that entails).
https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/
email: [email protected]
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More stories from Gerard DiLeo and writers in Poets and other communities.
28 Timeless Sentences on Love and Relationships
You can’t make someone stay if they want to leave. You can’t make someone who’s pretending to be asleep wake-up. If someone misses you or cares about you, they’ll reach out or show it. If someone truly cares about you, you can feel it even if they don’t say it. If none of these things happen, they probably don’t need you to worry about them because you can’t force love. People who contact you are less likely to care less about you. If someone breaks up and quickly finds someone new, it’s often not about that person being better, but about moving on. True love means staying faithful and not falling for excuses. If it’s meant to be, cherish it; if not, let it go. You can usually sense if someone likes you or not. Sometimes, even smart people deceive themselves. Don’t make promises you shouldn’t and don’t force love. If someone doesn’t fit in your life, let them go. Don’t keep calling someone who doesn’t answer; those who care will call you. Don’t chase people or things; your time is precious. Act with a clear conscience and accept that not everything is meant for you. Love can’t be rushed; cherish it when you have it. If you have love, give it your all; if not, live a fulfilling life on your own. Meeting someone is rare, but leaving is just part of life. Act with confidence to attract the right people. Be kind to others, but don’t fear making mistakes. Unhealthy attachment after a breakup isn’t love; it’s reluctance. If someone takes a long time to reply, they may be busy or with someone else. Love isn’t complicated; falling in love is. Loving someone is more important than falling in love. It’s scarier to love the wrong person than to be single. Life is neither as perfect nor as terrible as we imagine. Find the right person to love or love yourself if you don’t.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharinga day ago in Poets
Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Fantastic, original and oh so brilliant!
You never fail to amaze with the topics or concepts you choose for your poems! This was fantastic!
Great wordplay and letterplay.