he dives under the covers
escaping the noises and laughter
why do people make fun of teddy bears?
do they not know he has feelings?
he stays covered, hoping they do not see him
MEDIA ATTACK
COURT SAYS WHITE HOUSE LET THEM BACK
TRUMP REIGN STARTS TO CRACK
They called us witches to keep us silent,
our words curling in smoke. They held
our heads under water, tied feet to a stake;
judged those without children or mark upon
skin. They accused us of misleading children,
that poor crops were due to our sin. Crone and
whore, bossy and loud; battle-axe and tart,
frigid and shrew. They called us witches to cover
our screams, they called us witches to hide
our power. They called us witches to spread myth,
they called us witches to dispel our magic. Strong
and independent, courageous and true; brave and
united, nurturer and proud. They call us witches?
A name begets importance. We call them, nothing.
At dinner today,
My Mommy and
My Daddy
Were being weird
Instead of them
Usually being tired,
They smiled a lot
Too Smiley
And also
My Daddy made
The food today
Mommy is supposed to make the food
The food didn’t taste yummy
The food tastes yummy always
Mommy and Daddy
Are starting to be
Kinda
Sorta
Just a little
Scary
At night
When I got up
To tell them
I had a nightmare
They were not asleep
Mommy was just
Sitting on the couch
Wide awake
Daddy was smiley again
Too Smiley
Daddy and Mommy
Are starting to be
Kinda
Sorta
Super Duper
Scary
I don’t think
That Mommy
And Daddy
Are the right ones anymore
I saw them pouring
Saltwater on my
Flowers
The ones I got from Mommy
I’m scared
This Mommy
And this Daddy
Are not my
Beautiful
Mommy
Kind
Daddy
Where did they go?
Where Did They Go?
WHERE DID THEY GO?
I want them back
They still want us to suffer as if we have left
The residue at the bottom
Maybe doubting we finished that cup yet
The drink wasn’t supposed to taste awesome
They keep treating us rather sternly
Even though we are still miles apart
Maybe happier than it was meant to be
Taking suffering as the high art
Of those who remember better than us
The garden with apple tree
But living each day as if it were our last
We’ve done all the drinks, haven’t we?
The strongest rise with
Echoes behind them; no
Legend ever truly won alone.
Every victory carries
Fingerprints of those who
Refused to let them fall; no
Won alone.
When uncertainty tried to rewrite
Their name, someone
Whispered strength back into
Their bones; they never won
Alone.
Even giants leaned on quiet
Warriors, the ones who held
Them steady when storms won
Alone.
Greatness is a rapport, not a
Solo; every step forward was
Carried by hands that won
Alone.
Michaela speaks truth to legacy:
No hero, no survivor, no Legend
Even won Alone.
Falsete and Fach
---------------------------------
octaves play a crucial
structural and
stylistic role
lowest notes fall below
the 20 Hz threshold
of human hearing and
can only be
measured with instruments
12 semitones
Sound frequencies range
from about 20 Hz to
20,000 Hz, which covers
roughly 10 distinct
octaves of audible sound
There are 7 full octaves
plus 3 extra low keys
, totaling 88 keys that
span about 7.25 octaves
------------------------------------
Mastretta De Sa' Sopranista
------------------------------------
-E per quanto riguarda le possibilità
passando a un approccio
basato sui problemi?
traditions start somewhere
doing things for a reason is
often the right thing
to do
looking toward
our goales
budgeting our endeavor
profiting
and profit sharing
to create healthy
long lasting
relationships
that are meaningful
and complimentary
-----------------------------
they were as always
those sycophantic spirits
are you awakened ?
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • September 7–13, 2026)
The patriot platform, have come to the fore.' In England, making an impact
Of that i am quite sure' can they bring
Co-hesion? Lift a country of of its floor.?
They say they are non-violent, and shy of
Politics/law..I can't see an easy road at all.'
So many promises have fallen through.'
Can they steer clear of the banksters
Usurious; fell and foul.that is so true" Then maybe
Just maybe? they can get their land out of
The hole its entered, with right actions and stromg hands , to the plough. They
Need to be, and stay as people centered.'
Scars
remind us
that the pain
was real
Memory
hardens
what time
can’t heal
Ingrained
within us
they serve
to warn
The past
unheeded
is soon
— reborn
(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)
I'm tell'n you bloke, it ain"t no joke,
specially if he's a big and red, and a
Joey's dad..who got him quite
Already mad! Ya may well think when
He's hunkerd down, real low against
The ground, just munchi'n on veg
But geez he's got some edge' so if
You think to applick.? To his ribs a stick?! I advise ya nooo! Do not do that Joe.!!!
Some stand at eight feet nine.' And when
They are in a bind.??? First they tilt the head. Left eye, right eye..Just to sort'a say- see' what'cha do'in ta me.? Then its
Up he'll come skin tight like a drum.' And even
If your name is fred.? Well its now to late to get
To the shed..Its time to ( suck it and see.!)
Immediately...Just in time the earth quake
Happened.' All the bloody roos; just wen't scatter'n God always comes in time, ya know? even saved on a dime, as it goes '
All the people who are gone
All the ones who learned to fly
They all flew on passed the sun
They all were too young to say good-bye
All the people that have died
All the people that passed the moon
We all try to wonder why
Why all these people have died too soon
Were there lives just meant to end
All the people who have gone away
Why isn't it us instead of them
Was it just meant to be that way
All the people that we loved
All the people that we knew
They were all too young to have to die
When they said good-bye to me and you
Some were family, some were friends
Why did they have to pass so soon
Why'd they have to pass the sun
And why'd they have to pass the moon
All the people who are gone
May they rest in peace where they lie
All the people that have passed
They were all too young to have to die
You ask if they care and I laugh at you
You ask if we’re there and I scoff at you.
Belief in a system that covertly oppresses you.
Belief in a freedom that covertly profits from you.
Hidden files lost in time tied up in front of you.
Lies, deceits, corruption, ‘eyes only’ facts that’ll never be seen by you.
Statistics on lists that govern you.
Statistics on lists that threaten you.
Statistics on lists that control you.
Statistics on lists that kill you.
You ask if they care and I laugh at you.
¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ today
A leaf I tear;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
Without a care.
And ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ gentleness of June
Will ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ fly
¦¦¦ I will greet the ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ moon
Of ¦¦¦¦ July.
Beloved months ¦¦¦ soon ¦¦¦ pass,
¦¦¦¦¦ I see
The ¦¦¦¦ sand silvering the glass
Of Time for me;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ midwinter woe
I wait with rue,
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ I grudge the days ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦
They are so few.
A ¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦ gayful thing
To grace a room;
¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦¦ with joy of life I sing,
With ¦¦¦¦¦¦ gloom
I add this ¦¦¦¦¦ month of May
To ¦¦¦¦¦¦ past,
Thinking each page ¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦
May be my last.
(Blackout of My Calendar by Robert William Service)
Once upon a time,
they lived,
happily ever after.
Or did they?
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