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 Jan 2011 Alliesaurus
Shawn
lost.
 Jan 2011 Alliesaurus
Shawn
i'm lost without you....
not lost as in a
lost soul
or a metaphorical endless search
that i now find myself on.
i'm not aimlessly wandering
through an abyss,
the darkness of which
is only matched
by the black of your hair...
no.
i mean,
literally.
like you knew,
directions really well,
and would always remember
where i parked my car,
and you'd hold my hand to
guide me through a crowd
towards the
right cardinal direction.
that sort of lost.
pragmatic.
where do i go
from here?
Copyright SMK, 2010
A lonesome trumpet tells a tragic tale,
(One might say a tragedy)
That echoes the emptiness of teeming streets.
From the orange-blue skies, to the red rooftops of Madrid, I hear a cacophony of voices
Telling me to eat, **** and ****

God is still crying.
And as rain grinds the streets into dust,
I only wish to see the sun.
Read this poem over the first minute of Miles Davis' Concierto De Aranjuez. That's how it was meant to be read.
you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.
 Oct 2010 Alliesaurus
Amir
i think about
a lot of things
and most of them
don't stay for long
but if i had to
sum it up,
for you,
i think i'd try.

i think about my memories
and replay laughs
and lessons, kisses
and the first time seeing
people who i now know well.

i think about the near future
and try to tame expectations
and try to focus on the now
but sometimes it
gets tough.

i often feel like
dipping in and
out of life like
something rolling
back and forth
along the wave break
resting now and then.

but mostly i just
think of that
which is before me
like a map or
flower or a shadow
or whatever form i find.

so when you asked me
what i think
it at first seemed
a riddle, for
i'm not sure
i think at all
now that i
think
about it.
Amir 2010
 Oct 2010 Alliesaurus
Kai P.
I often wonder if hope still exists,
That if I prayed enough,
Good things would suffice,
And great things would abound.

I often wonder if faith was ever real,
That if I crossed my fingers 'til they cramped,
Lucky stars would count themselves,
And love would get prescription lenses.

I always think about you,
And wonder what's inside your brain:
Whether music notes have taken over,
Or rather the nicotine that you inhale.

Where you've got music notes,
I've got daisies.
Where you've got nicotine,
I've got hot air.

So let the music notes blow wind over my daisies,
And let the hot air and nicotine commingle to create smoke.

We both enjoy a good cigarette in the daisy field.
Don't we.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


translated by W.S. Merwin
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