Francesca Stamps
Nov 12, 2012

LETTERS

Letters are written,
Written in blood;
Letters are written,
For those whom we love.
(They are) written with grief
And written with pain
Wanting some love,
And craving for gain.

Letters are written,
With many a furrow;
Letters are written,
Containing much sorrow.
Created with care,
For a loved one to give.
Blooming with love,
Is how I want to live.

Letters are written,
With joy and faith;
Letters are written,
Despite our wraith.
Wanting us to stop,
So we might suffer with him;
But when looking back,
He appears quite dim.
With the same old tricks,
And the same old lie.
Do you think yourself
As better than I?

Letters are written,
Not in hope of profit;
Letters are written,
So we would not regret it.
To rue the oath,
On which we swore;
To concede defeat
We have never before.
Through thick and thin,
Through blood and sweat,
To succeed, we try
And we haven't failed yet.

This was not written by me. This was written by my brother Nicholas Stamps <3
Can you mail a sandwich by putting food stamps on it?
ᏰέƦẙḽ Dṏሁ

Can you mail a sandwich by putting food stamps on it?

#food   #mess   #forward   #make   #ship   #stamps   #feed   #mail   #address   #post   #trending   #pay   #square   #spread   #feast   #snack   #lew   #beryldov   #dispatch   #route   #eats   #settle   #transmit   #refreshment   #banquet   #send   #chow   #fare   #grub   #refection   #victuals   #consign   #payment  
Can you mail a sandwich by putting food stamps on it?
ᏰέƦẙḽ Dṏሁ

Can you mail a sandwich by putting food stamps on it?

#food   #mess   #forward   #make   #ship   #stamps   #feed   #mail   #address   #post   #trending   #pay   #square   #spread   #feast   #snack   #lew   #beryldov   #dispatch   #route   #eats   #settle   #transmit   #refreshment   #banquet   #send   #chow   #fare   #grub   #refection   #victuals   #consign   #payment  

break the seal of the envelope
to view the sender's pity on paper
but please rush to open the letter
because I want to talk to you
for a while, if only one-sidedly

-cj

Francesca Stamps
Mar 11, 2012

All this pain
How can you regain
What you gave away?

Tears rolling down,
Feel you can’t go ‘round town
After what you’ve done
You wonder, “What have I become”?

They come, they go
Don’t let your tears flow
Until at night when your all alone
You feel ready to die, but no one can know

The one is here, right now
But after all the others, you don’t understand how
Why does he love you?
Doesn’t he know?

How can you believe?
Isn’t it easier for him to leave?
Now the tears fall down
It hits you: he’s been here, he knows


He’s seen your tears
He knows your fears
He knows what you’ve done
He doesn’t believe in what you feel you’ve become

He picks up your chin
Looks into your eyes and he says:
"Hold onto me
I’m not like those guys
I’ll be here for you
I’m on your side"

You want to runaway
But your pounding heart says to stay
Should you go? Escape maybe another stain?
What if you stay? Could he help break the pain?

He loves you for you
Not what you feel you have to do
He says:
“I love you. I’ll always be here for you. Forever”

Wells Brand
Wells Brand
Sep 19, 2012

You sent me the sweetest thing
In that package, grinning
up at me on my step-
had my name on it and everything-
how thoughtful! What a surprise!

Ok, I lied-
no package,
but now you know a desire of mine,
and it didn't cost me anything-
not even a stamp.

Samuel
Samuel
May 21, 2012

You're right, let's
see where this will lead
and in an hour I'll concede to
spending all my afternoons the
sun rising and setting with you
reliably

like after-hours swimming pools, we
lead the way and make our own rules
bollocks to the ordinary, bring on
hula hoops and sherry

I'll send my heart wrapped in a letter,
hope that it will get there over shimm'ring
sails and stormy weather, hope that it
will find its way to you

i collect butterflies and stamps
david badgerow
david badgerow
Feb 5      Feb 6

i am a house with a door
a lighthouse with sand around it
where a man takes a piss at night
away from his friends

i am a cold accidental touch
of the false pinky finger of
a janitor at work at a high school

i am burned to death in my apartment
flipped out on dirty coke
sold to me by a tampon salesman in
an envelope marked "Kotex $$"

i am disappearing into roots
a rusted out minivan in a trailer park yard
that no one drives
filled with fast food bags and baseballs

i am a glimpse into a  lifespan
but only the part of the road that you can see
from your apartment building

i am an adventure
a warm wet raindrop
landing on your face
as you walk out of the door
onto your lawn in springtime

i am not a voice or an expression
like the quiet tattoo of a boat
you keep hidden in your brassiere

i am the cool dry pillow that you dream into
i collect butterflies and stamps
and old shoes from unconscious men
in the alleyways behind bars

and that's how i've decided to make a living

I mix up all the stamps,
Gemma Hitchcock

Obsession fascinates me,

Like a compulsive disorder.

I mix up all the stamps,

Then put them back in order.

 
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