FLOW, FLOW!, and FLOW?

“Harvey says Enthusiastically” Rene’- happily states.

It feels good, Let’s do that again- some unremembered quote.

I heard their conversation from the beginning,

Imagined it half way through,

could see their smiles

the wrinkle of the their eyes.

 

It had been a good Sunday-

Cleaning up. Disregarding the old by letting go,

a bomb shell of activity

stuff falling through the air

IN THE TRASH

ON TO THE GROUND.

Boom

————–Boom.

Boom.

 

Finding old contacts!

Photos!

“Remember that dog, Jack? When did we get hi?”, “OH, we had May before him didn’t we?”

“No, Jack came first, Why do you not remember?”

 

Louis Settner’s book sits on the table watching us talk.

We had good memories that day.

Just as good moments.

Writing this as we listen to our parents talk.

Did the dog wag his tail?

Did the oil spitter out, up, and away!

As Harvey turned the heat up heating up the sauce.

Like

a bouncy bounce on a kids TV, the detail is there,

That is Not the Question-

The Question is DID YOU NOTICE?

HONING IN-                         SEEING IT ALL?

I did

Was not even in the same room!

 

Was the pasta good?

Don’t really care.

 

Who knows,

We Haven’t Even Eaten-

Super high quality, said the sister.

last week.

when she brought it over.

Just eating it now though.

 

By Sam Sutlive, written on January 7, 2018 between 8:00ish and 8:40ishpm. Posted 6:45-6:57am on January 8, 2018. Edited slightly the ands and thes and spaces on January 8, 2018 at 6:45to 6:50am.

P.S. The pasta was amazingly delicious! Plain and with the sauce!

 

 

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The subconscious Act.

Knife’s Computer

 

slice the words

 

distract the mind.

 

The images on the side

 

keep you preoccupied,

 

Do you still want the

potatoes?

 

Just like you liked the

 

chopping of the mind.

 

 

By Sam Sutlive, written on January 6, 2018 between 6:26 and 6:29pm.

 

 

Good Souls Can Be Dangerous Too. (For April 10, 2017).

The Old Soul crept by,

No one noticed

it was so kind.

 

It was a good soul

helping others,

feeding the homeless,

listening to Bach and Beethoven.

 

That soul had been around

It had seen the world

been back again.

 

It helped the helpless

fed on the weak.

It opened the door for one

stabbed the other:

watch out if it doesn’t show both hands when one is meeting this good old soul,

it knows its politics.

It once, with George W. Bush told some nameless country it cheated on their spouses, all in a wave. (This actually happened. George W. Bush was visiting some country and waved in such a manner that meant to the locals that he was messing with their wives. I looked and couldn’t find the actual instance I am referring too.)

 

At night the good old soul roams the streets

looking for a new victim

thinking up a new scheme.

You may see it as a nice soul

You may see it as a dark soul

You may not see it at all

Until it is too late to see at all.

Weak rhyme at the end with the two all. Sorry about that!    🙂

 

Written by Sam Sutlive on April 11, 2017 between 11:10pm and 11:30pm for April 10, 2017. Posted 11:25pm on April 11, 2017.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

April=POETRY

May have been posted.

3

Ocean waves
dancing with tiny
people’s dreams
in
lonesome
town where
no houses sit
no chairs rock
the air only knows how to forget.

Written by Sam Sutlive November 12, 2016 rewritten here April 8, 2017 at 11:06 pm and posted April 8, 2017 at 11:07pm.

The Unseen Holds You

April=POETRY

Level Of Elevation

                                                                                                                                         Floats                                                                                                                                           Up And Down 2.

Bad shall not

Acts moving on

unseeing others

pass within your yelling

You cannot see how your voice pierces the air

I fall backwards.

Silence or nothing

on the thickness of the air

makes you fade

Eyelashes shattering such as strings resonating for the last time.

April=POETRY

Level Of Elevation

                                                                                                                                         Floats                                                                                                                                           Up And Down 1.

Bad shall not come from this.

Badness shall pass,

Acts moving on to other unseeing victims.

Shall pass within your yelling

yet not before you cannot see how your voice pierces the air

coming as a smack.

Silence or nothing

on the thickness of the air

makes you fade

Eyelashes shattering such strings resonating for the last time.

April=POETRY

An Extra Poem.

The Unseen Holds you from  you Yesterday cannot to move Today. forward.              

You want to fall backward

                          Hearing “if your stuck fall forward”

“it will fix itself.”

you know it will not.

What they see as better:

“Falling Forward”

is my face value

of a personality they cannot see through.

 

Level Of Elevation Floats Up and Down 2 Written by Sam Sutlive on April 6, 2017 and April 7, 2017.

Written on April 6, 2017 between 9pm and 11:50pm

Written, edited, and rewritten on April 7, 2017 between 2:24pm and 2:56pm

Level Of Elevation Floats Up and Down 1 Written by Sam Sutlive on April 6, 2017 and edited and tweaked on April 7, 2017.

Written on April 6, 2017 between 9pm and 11:50pm

Written and edited on April 7, 2017 between 2:24pm and 2:56pm

Extra poem written on April 7, 2017 between 2:24pm and 2:56pm.

All Posted on April 7, 2017 at 3:03pm.

Waiting For The Next Day.

April=POETRY

The bad shall pass As I dream.

The wind lulls me to sleep,

as I write this to beat the clock.

A poem not quite formed.
Yet no time.
So there is this.
The bad shall pass is a truth,
just in another context for another poem that there is no time to write here now.

Written by Sam Sutlive on April 6, 2017 between 11:54pm and 11:59pm for April 6, 2017 post. Posted 12:02am on April 7, 2017

FAMILY DYNAMICS.

April=Poetry.

Resounding rebounding voice—

 

Family sighs,

Grandmother or mother or

whatever is dead.

Boy,

now a dad cries a little,

Most of his tears staying in his head.

 

He is the Christmas baby. Wanted to be loved.

discarded for another.

PAUSE

 

Daphnees. Cries. Are. of joy.

 

Daphnees voice—

 

I Likes chips and cheese,   she is known for saying,

What is the food order she’s asks, can’t get enough of that.

Need a strainer for a string to hold up my apron,

You got money?

We’ll need it for the burial.

 

 

Resounding rebounding voice—

Johnny’s still sniffling,

What’s he going to do now?

 

Big H don’t care no more,

He hurts of course but you won’t see it even you look,

 

Remember he’s the one that wrote 7 ways to kill your parents.

 

Electrocute, drown, stab with a 15 foot shore spike, chloroformed left in a burning house, arrow to the head, multiple gun wounds to the stomach, buried half alive among tree debris in a gully.

SILENCE.

 

Written by Sam Sutlive for open mic.

Written on April 5, 2017 between 4:00pm and 5:28pm posted 5:31pm on April 5, 2017.