"I am": the shortest possible sentence, succeeded closely by "I was".
Heart, oh heart, hold me down; when this cold hard life throws me round— It's so hard, so hard to hold on now. So heart, old heart, hold me down. --- Adapted from some lyrics I wrote in the back of my copy of Desert Solitaire. I have a chorus and a bridge but I need verses; we'll see if that goes anywhere.
Since this is hubski, I’ll ask “why do you unilaterally hate the police,” instead of commenting that this is a vapid extrapolation of the generally accepted noun, “police” (as in cops) compared to what happens all around us every day, which includes societal corrections that could be termed “policing” but really just serve to align people to a general accepted norm; aka, a lot of behaviors that are diagnosably considered unhealthy (deliberately injuring oneself; deliberately failing to properly take care of oneself) are generally managed through social “policing.” In other words, the societal management of behavior expectations is not unilaterally harmful and it is, at best, immature to view such corrective actions in that light. Your response to the idea of any kind of pseudo-collective authority implies massive issues with such :) have you heard of NIMBYism?
who was loved upon a time where the meadow nestles in the shadow of the old crumbling wall, Roman wall decrepit; aquiline but bent sweetly picking the bluebell and foxglove humming melodies with no name anywhere taut grass, scent of spring and youth dreaming in argent, as queens do where now are bright stars? where now are ladies' favors? where now is flaxen hair? only ghosts remain, imprints of footsteps no chiming voice to wake his soul to a vanished song, a once-proud company in the twilight of an autumnal life his years pass without her his years pass without her innocent as hypatia, heart in heart's palm where now are burnished shields? and the rough stone is cold to touch
Flighty bird, Rarely seen but often heard. Stand still for just a tick? I need to get a decent pic. Come here, rest on this branch. Please. Please. Give me a fighting chance. Just for a moment come out into the light. NO! NO! DON'T TAKE FLIGHT! Screw it. That's it. You freaking won. I'm going home, I'm freaking done.
Abreast, our vessels converse tepid soft waters. Like oceans, we part. Nerves hurl heaving thoughts hounding; As yet, my heart’s still pounding. How little time measures our meetings; What’ll it take to grow old without retreating, To bathe across sun-kissed skin unyielding. 1 Haiku4You 2 (Not-quite-a-limerick)