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 Jul 2014 allison
Carl Sandburg
I could love you
as dry roots love rain.
I could hold you
as branches in the wind
brandish petals.
Forgive me for speaking so soon.

    Let your heart look
    on white sea spray
    and be lonely.

    Love is a fool star.

    You and a ring of stars
    may mention my name
    and then forget me.

    Love is a fool star.
 Jul 2014 allison
Cali
Enigma
 Jul 2014 allison
Cali
You were like the flowers
dying on my kitchen table.
Wilting away, and even so,
gifting me with flashes of color
and the unceremonious bloom
of a forgotten bud.

You were like Billy Holiday
at 3am on my busted record player;
just the slightest hiccup
in your melancholy.

You were an insufferable
embodiment of self-doubt,
nearly tangible in the
sun-starved days of winter.

You were an enigma,
plain and simple,
as nondescript as the fog
before a sunrise in September.
I wage not any feud with Death
For changes wrought on form and face;
No lower life that earth's embrace
May breed with him, can fright my faith.

Eternal process moving on,
From state to state the spirit walks;
And these are but the shatter'd stalks,
Or ruin'd chrysalis of one.

Nor blame I Death, because he bare
The use of virtue out of earth:
I know transplanted human worth
Will bloom to profit, otherwhere.

For this alone on Death I wreak
The wrath that garners in my heart;
He put our lives so far apart
We cannot hear each other speak.
Love is and was my Lord and King,
And in his presence I attend
To hear the tidings of my friend,
Which every hour his couriers bring.

Love is and was my King and Lord,
And will be, tho' as yet I keep
Within his court on earth, and sleep
Encompass'd by his faithful guard,

And hear at times a sentinel
Who moves about from place to place,
And whispers to the worlds of space,
In the deep night, that all is well.
There is a change—and I am poor;
Your love hath been, nor long ago,
A fountain at my fond heart’s door,
Whose only business was to flow;
And flow it did; not taking heed
Of its own bounty, or my need.

What happy moments did I count!
Blest was I then all bliss above!
Now, for that consecrated fount
Of murmuring, sparkling, living love,
What have I? shall I dare to tell?
A comfortless and hidden well.

A well of love—it may be deep—
I trust it is,—and never dry:
What matter? if the waters sleep
In silence and obscurity.
—Such change, and at the very door
Of my fond heart, hath made me poor.
 Jul 2014 allison
em
3:30 a.m.
 Jul 2014 allison
em
71 days
since you looked
at me
clenching your phone
as your knuckles fade
into the brightest of whites
& water droplets consume
your bottom lashes
71 days since
you told me
she wasn't going
to make it

68 days
since we sat in my car
silent
tears crawling down your
sweet cheeks
outside of that place
they call hospice
& we call hell

*55 days

since you called me from
school and begged that
i pick you up
so i did
and we drove
we drove aimlessly until
we found a diner to
eat at
a diner that held no
significance
no memory of that
sweet woman you knew
you were about to
lose

51 days
since you told me
"i want her to let go now"
"she needs to be free"

50 days
since you said your
good-byes
you told her you loved her
and all she could
manage
was a tender
squeeze of the hand

48 days
since your father fell
asleep for
three minutes
holding her cold hand
and within that
short
one hundred and eighty seconds
3:30 a.m.
she slipped into her
next life
dressed in white, i'm sure
leaving behind this
family of
now
only
4.

47 days
since my mother
watched a shadowed
figure leave &
disappear from
my little brother's room
at four a.m.
as he slept

it was her, i'm sure*

42 days
since i stood next
to you
looking down at
a body no longer
full of
life
draped in pink
holding your hand

33 days

24 days

16 days

9 days

3 days

&
last night
all i could say
was i'm sorry
as i held your
trembling hands
soothing your rapid
repetitive
breathing &
promising those
swollen eyes that you
will
one day
be held by her again
instead of me
as you
dance with her in the sky
in loving memory of one of God's
newest & most beautiful angels
beth ann bradbury
 Jul 2014 allison
Miranda Renea
I grew up in suburbia-
With picket fences as white as the faces
Who say they're godly enough to save babies
(As long as they're not queer)
Because we don't have to live with the fear
Of corpses lining the sidewalks
Of our perfectly landscaped yards
We have no guards firing on peaceful protestors
Because our children are filed into orderly lines
Laid out for them at birth
But for what it's worth, we teach them of racism
From a white textbook that lies about founding fathers
Where segregation is just a word and
Oppression is hardly even mentioned.
Our children, who play at the age of 6
And lose their innocence at the age of 16
Suburbia is a life of it's own,
Gangly arms and legs
Like the teenagers who starve themselves
And steal their parents liquor
Just to get drunk quicker
Ignorant of those on the streets dying of hunger
No wonder I yearn to be far from this hell I call home.

Allen Ginsberg once said
“America I’ve given you all and now I am nothing”
The Wonder Years once said
“Suburbia I’ve given you all and now I am nothing”
But I’ve found fallacies in both of these,
I feel it’s more like
Suburbia I’ve given you all
And now I’m an awkward 20 year old
Who doesn’t know how to talk to black people
Suburbia I’ve given you all
And now I’m way too confident walking around the city at night
Because I forget there are communities
Where people actually have to lock their doors,
Suburbia I’ve given you all
And now I have a 16 year old brother
Who thinks the word *** and **** jokes are funny
Suburbia I've given you all
And now my father hates that I'm for gender equality
Well dear daddy,
I hope this offends you.

Because I am offended
By a community that tells **** victims they were asking for it
I am offended by a community
That tells my best friend Liam
That he's just confused, that
His love for Adam is an abomination
I am offended by a community
That offers equality as thinly veiled oppression,
With houses decorated in the decadence of degradation,
All the while their perfect sons and daughters
Are dying of depression because
The hilt of a gun is so much quicker
Than the drugs of their addiction

Suburbia, you are the seed of suicide
Feeding off of your violent silence,
Your white fences slice our tongues
And leave us mindless.
Suburbia, you have betrayed us.
Taught us ignorance is bliss with
Algebra instead of how to do taxes,
Spent more time worried about
Girls' shoulders instead of *** education,
Taught me not to speak unless
My hand was raised as if praise
Is given to authority without question,
Funny how they forgot to mention
Our country was founded on rebellion.

But suburbia, I forgive you
And so I humbly ask of you,
Find the keys of compassion within the heart and
Shed the lock of ignorance that grips your mind
The door may be rusted but it can open with time
Suburbia, I beg of you
Join us in the war of love
Let us all raise our fists and
Paint peace signs on our wrists,
We are disobedient dandelions swaying in the sun,
Words of kindness rolling off our tongues
Like pacifistic shots of a gun
Firing respect instead of rounds
And burying hate instead of bodies in the ground.
***This is a group piece. The lovely Mary Hamula is the other writer that worked on it with me.
 Jul 2014 allison
Miranda Renea
The idle ghosts of innocence
Dance sweetly in a silhouette of sun;
Teasing tiny palms, they shimmer
As tempting gold specs of treasure,
And as he plants these small seeds
I sometimes sense Time seethe --
*Fickle is man if he cannot see,
Of remembrance, dust is currency!
 Jul 2014 allison
Amitav Radiance
Poetry is like gusts of fresh air
Harbinger of the soul’s catharsis
Flowing emotions through the pen
Concealed pain written across the pages
Healing the pain which was long buried

— The End —