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 Jan 2015 Alazella
Steele
Recipe
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Steele
Confession: I have no idea how this whole challenge thing got started.
Whoever it is, I hope you like my contribution.
For your reference, I'm made of different things than when I first arrived.
Back then I was broken hearted,
writing retribution.
But just when I think I'm getting ready to move into the next chapter of my life,
The man I was before comes in and the recipe is ruined.

Ingredient the first is of course the man I was before.
I'll admit, he wasn't all that bright, and a bit of a know it all and a bore.
but according to every guide who helped him open newer doors,
"He has so much potential!" So let potential simmer for about a minute before you add in Life. But be honest for a second. Life's a cold, disdainful *****.

Ingredient number two was life, but it's far too large and full of emotion,
so grab your knife and cut a smaller portion,
mince, and mix it with a few one night stands.
Sprinkle in some daddy issues.
Add a dollop of fairy dust, and prepare to bring the tissues.
Next comes epilepsy, pill bottles to your eyeballs,
death, and loss, and missing parietals,
cheating, beatings, midnight meetings
with guys who will sell you memory loss for a few hundred bucks.
Caution: This recipe calls for zero *****.
Add them in at the risk of ruining the mix.
Let it simmer and boil with rage,
and eventually your mixture will break it's cage;
He'll run away, start over fresh somewhere, and lie about his life to all who ask,
then slowly, he'll open up to strangers over the internet, and bask
in the complements his poetry gets him.
Then he'll get a job like a real person,
and his cold dead heart will begin to tick,
like clockwork, which he'll be obsessed with,
and he'll start clocking people for money instead of kicks,
and be paid for it.
and get laid for it.
(because come on, why else do people become athletes? To get ripped.)
His life will, briefly, be a fairy tale,
and he'll believe for a moment that his old life has called it quits.
This is a crucial moment, don't **** up the recipe like I did
Because then...
if his old life finds him.
his runaway streak is over.
See, if it doesn't cook all the way through, food poisoning is in order,
and he is poisoned once again but that cruel *****, Life,
and his life becomes again a game of "Pick-up-sticks"
as his old life comes crashing back, and then, stage left, ENTER *****!
She finds him.
and before you know it too much Life was added to the mix,
he says "**** it" once again,
opens up for just a moment more,
***** up his rhymes, and moves out of his apartment,
packs his bags, says his goodbyes, and pays his rent,
then leaves to close more potential doors, lost and disillusioned.
Too much life came back too soon, before he was ready to be served.
Too much life was added in, and while you totally can say h'orderves
without saying "*****", life's a *****, so you add too much more,
and the recipe is ruined.
My life on a page. Bye guys. Time for me to disappear again for a while, and move on. It's been fun.

Addendum: Nevermind. :)
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Hayleigh
Untitled
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Hayleigh
Me?
I reached for a star
and came back with the moon.
 Jan 2015 Alazella
em
January
 Jan 2015 Alazella
em
December came and went
without notice of your departure.

but when January rolled around and fruit cake and sparkling lights no longer littered my home, it felt empty and i remembered how full and intense your presence was and how i longed for what we almost,
but never fully, had.
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Joanna Oz
charity
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Joanna Oz
if I am to love you,
I will love without expectation
of return
or reciprocation-
neither acknowledgement
nor honey sweet affection.
I will love despite
brutal response
or dismal absence,
regardless of wounds and abscess,
and with no regret.
I will love every part
radiant and rotten alike,
leaving no portion of you out in the cold of night.

if I am to love you,
I will love with conscious intent,
not based in fleeting emotion,
but grounded
in purposeful action
and ever-evolving
spiritual awareness
of the pure metaphysical essence
of you-
and I-
as One.
I will remember that love is a garden,
and not an avalanche.
I will love in understanding
and trust that
there is nothing that separates us,
transcendent soul
immanent in each bone.

if I am to love you,
I will love in tranquil tracing,
in tender waves -
ascending and
receding.
candid caressing
peacefully pulsing pace of peeling
back layers
of my self-skin
to return to
the egoless origin.

if I am to love you,
I will love in humble gestures,
sacrificing all before me
not for moral glory,
but to recognize
shared sacredness.
surrendering desire and attachment,
equalizing all extensions
of the
you-me matrix.
I will love stepping over
self-interest
and dancing into harmony in singularity,
entire generosity
sharing all the puzzle pieces of me.

and,
if I am to love you,
I will love wild
true
and free.
letting the universe
continuously
wash my eyes in new clarity.
opening further
each golden morning
to share the light it has gifted me.
I wrote this after reading an amazing passage on charity, or pure spiritual love, from The Perennial Philosophy by Aldous Huxley. I am finding that I have so much to learn about interpersonal love through the concept of divine love: what it is, how to live in it, share it, embody it, and accept it.
I am a burst of wind interrupting the gentle breeze
 Jan 2015 Alazella
Jamie King
Standing still
Crushed rampaged
  metals collide the face
  splashed with guts of the
      masses Massacras being
            routines in all routes the
                   scenes are blinding
                        as light flashes
                     before the eyes
                  like angry skies
                in  darker nights

           The day is reborn
      the face wiped with
  cloths of sorrow black
bags already gone but
  not forgotten, pardoned
     only when the bones have
           cracked and the body
           can no longer stand the
             pain, with holes deep
             enough to be filled
                    by the rain.
So there I was walking on the road and I'm thinking what does it feel like for people to step on you and walk all over you at every turn in your life.. and so I wrote this poem
Tonight, my hand sways over a blank sheet
It matches the rhythm given by the time
Rumbles and croons over the lyrical past
Keeping the things that are worth to keep

Inch by inch, my life was changed by your intimacy
I was in loved with your fondness
I was moved by our endearment
I would like to keep the things we used to nurture

The warmness suddenly abated
Like the flower which suddenly died
Everything was adequately managed
However you realized that the time was in mess

I miss the curve at your face
I hanker after our lovely moments
I crave for the affection you once gave
Hoping that those things would come back

Tonight, I tear a part inside of me
To put these feelings into expressions
To tell you how this poem was made
And to tell you that:
"I write because of our love that once existed."
I’ve listened: and all the sounds I heard
Were music,—wind, and stream, and bird.
With youth who sang from hill to hill
I’ve listened: my heart is hungry still.

I’ve looked: the morning world was green;
Bright roofs and towers of town I’ve seen;
And stars, wheeling through wingless night.
I’ve looked: and my soul yet longs for light.

I’ve thought: but in my sense survives
Only the impulse of those lives
That were my making. Hear me say
‘I’ve thought!’—and darkness hides my day.
 Jan 2015 Alazella
blythe
Even the most beautiful flower
Needs to be daily showered with water
For it to grow lovelier
Or else it will wither.

Just like our dreams and aspirations,
We need daily inspirations
For us to keep going
Or else our hearts will stop hoping.
Let us make our dreams come true. Gather every bit of inspiration we can get so we can still pursue and fight for what we really long to have. Don't give up, don't lose hope! :)
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