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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2250010-The-Last-Recluse/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/2
Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2250010
Isolation and the many other feelings associated with a 21st century global pandemic.
Pandemic-inspired items.

-mental health
-isolation
-loneliness
-discontent
-politics
-wonder
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October 25, 2021 at 2:39pm
October 25, 2021 at 2:39pm
#1020099
10-8-21


I see cars and trees
and birds and bees
on flowers. Church towers
with bells ringing on the hour
sing to me the time
with every prescient chime
but mirror, as honest as you be,
why can't I see me?
July 29, 2021 at 3:38pm
July 29, 2021 at 3:38pm
#1014715
7-29-21


I woke up in a cold sweat about
something I forgot to remember to forget.
Pacing the walls of this room
         before a Zoom call
I didn't wanna do is like
         impending doom
but I always do what I gotta do
and if I come off as soft, well,
         that's you.
This made me up as I went along,
on and on, like an earworm song.
I keep trying to be the best I can
while you're trying to turn The Band
         into Steely Dan
but listening to my accomplishments
is like hearing complaints from the unrestrained.
Fingers snapping don't quiet themselves;
another audience I can't seem to help.
I rode a rainbow straight through
the middle of Hell
         when I crashed into you
just to find myself and instead
         I got fooled into
thinking everything was okay.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
July 29, 2021 at 3:25pm
July 29, 2021 at 3:25pm
#1014713
6-11-21


Who's wrong? Who's right?
There's more than two truths in sight.
I can't fight what I can't believe
but if you can see, then I can see
that this is stronger than make-believe.
And when you see it coming it's easy
to perpetrate deviation of the unseen.
If you're not ready I can't help ya
when you think the world's Helter Skelter.
Grab your mask, grab a flask, take five;
feel unasked to be alive.
This isn't how we planned it
so reroute the course of misunderstanding.

         read the message
         breathe the evidence
         teach the method
         kill the messenger

There's a simple kind of solution
         (that's right) that some look at as pollution
but the population still deals with unrest
like every day brings a new distress.
One wrong turn and you're gone.
Miss a breath, miss your song
being sung by the wrong jury.
         Hurry, hurry! The public scurries
when too many truths are mishandled
and we don't need more scandals.
How many lives don't have to matter
until the scatter values more than chatter?

         read the message
         breathe the evidence
         teach the method
         kill the messenger

There's not much left you can't endure
when your time is spent insecure
of how your life circles.
But living isn't swirling and twirling.
Make sense of the chances
or chance sense making you ashes
in a pit your destiny disbelieved.
You underachieved and now you're a seed
hopefully for someone's knowledge,
which you refused to acknowledge.
Ride hard and be unspoken for
while we all move on perpendicular.

         read the message
         breathed the methods
         choked on the evidence
         messenger killed

Signature for those who are nominated for a Quill Award in 2021
Long Poem, Free Verse

For the Quill finalists
Best Biographical
July 29, 2021 at 2:52pm
July 29, 2021 at 2:52pm
#1014712
4-22-21


The confusion was palpable.
I heard your internal monologue
in slow-mo and it still sounded like
you were born without thumbs
as a method of communication.
My brain tried to jack it off
as a random occurrence, but
sometimes ignorance is thicker than
the most submissive truth.
You'll call it what you want in your
discretionary, arbitrary new
language of resentful discontent,
and we'll relegate you to the end
of history you rightfully deserve
to be on. The only thing perhaps
you'll ever be right about.
July 29, 2021 at 2:46pm
July 29, 2021 at 2:46pm
#1014711
4-22-21


Snow falls like birds of prey
and the town has whistled to a stop,
saying "It can't be us!" but
         it can and
         better than we know.
We've become clusters;
an isolated public of
eyes minus faces and
heads without brains, thinking
we know everything and many do
         about nothing.

To say I haven't done much recently
isn't saying much; it's just that
now I've got better excuses
and more people to say that to.
It's been a long time since my better days,
whatever that means, though maybe
you can't tell the difference as much
         as I can.
Is it a product of the times, or
the timing of my productions?
Each time I look out the window
I lose track of how much time has passed,
and it feels like I always end up
         back where I started.

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