shema for them

OMG Poetry, Joseph D. Robbins, you
have inspired me to remember my family
and our close knit tribe, inscribed in history;
carted away to die in chambers filled with
Xyklon B, at the hands of the Nazi Party-
tethered together in infamy,…

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really living

you don’t realize that
you’re not really living
until you start
to live again.

your lungs gasp
when you start
to breathe again.

your feet trip
as you start
to stir again.

when you toss the past aside:
the future opens wide, alive
beside the…

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Your words, written in my book years ago
Reading them now I can’t help the feeling
That we knew then what we now seem to know
All the more it helps me with my healing.

You’re fading with the passing of each day -
You promised me you would, and you were right.
A special memory we are today –
Cease has come to our pained, lingering fight.

And in my heart, the best of us remains
In hindsight we glow the brightest of all
A lesson from our past my soul retains
Sometimes in love, the best thing is to fall.

Nothing can taint us now, story in stone.
Our future’s apart, with joys unbeknown.


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I write sonnets on sticky notes at work

While waiting for daily reports to load.

I’m just a lowly inventory clerk

Problems and discrepancies I decode.

We all have got lives outside of our jobs

Though some are unlucky and unemployed.

Outside wall street some of these folks form mobs

The image we’re force fed as kids: destroyed.

I silently revolt with my trite verse

Getting creative on company dimes.

The poetic form I like to rehearse

Searching for syllables, meter, and rhymes.

Still, a job is a job, and I’m lucky.

Doing nothing all day gets so yucky.


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