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 Dec 2014 Ally
mf
her
 Dec 2014 Ally
mf
her
but you look at her
as if you just found
your new favorite thing
in the whole world
(i look at you like that too)
 Oct 2014 Ally
Tom McCone
Because you slay me with every pinnacle of triumph and ruin, oh mechanics. You rewind, even in progression; you tell me all the words to say, in which sheet set to lay. You hold my severed head on display, for the entire universe to witness.

And my demons are like butter knives, not sharp enough to draw blood, but that still doesn’t stop the hurt. Or, worse.

Spent summers beneath the trees, winters beneath the weathers, years amongst all that which I will never understand. So, when you gave me your hand, I said ‘aye’, for I was never sure anyone would want to realistically be mine, never convinced my tiny heart was anywhere somebody could draw their line and say “Stop. You don’t have to say a word.”

As good as asleep in the crowds and mobs and downward cast eyes, three abreast in some channelled breeze, the main streets are the ones that mostly step on the tender part of your foot.

You know where I am, though, at least in body. There’s always the mind which never follows, which instead chooses to wallow in ‘what-if’s, vague references to reverence at its darkest moments. Because blind faith will get you nowhere and I have no reason to believe in anything, save the fact that I have this idea in the back of the recesses of my most null-set mind; and did you let the angels tell you lies?

That you’re not coming home tonight?

Well, you could rest in these sheets of mine. I guess they’re not the best, but I won’t tell any lies. So don’t
cry, don’t cry. The saline runs through all the gears in my chest, and over the season you’ll keep pulling what’s left, ‘til all I have is not an ounce of this mess, this beating arrhythmia I try hold dear ‘twixt my ribs.

So call me accountable, I can shoulder the blame. And ‘cause I’m never quite sure if anyone else would want to do the same, all I ask is that you remember my words anytime you hear my small name; just remember my lips and love of rain.

For some god built me on plans it kept locked up for so long, as it never did quite figure out where it went wrong; and so now flows through my lips as I utter my songs, as penance for all moments in which I am never strong.

So I keep confessions locked inside my book, I keep its wry disregard at length of arm’s crook, the broken blood carriers and my eyes it shook, said “Son, don’t you worry, for today you are your own hook” I replied: “Oh, wonder and majesty, I’ve done you oh-so wrong, and for what? The sake of singing sad songs?” “I knew there was no answer before you came along, I knew not of your virtues nor the day, eternally long.

So, don’t you dare take not a single of my words, for whatever I call mine is already gone to the birds,

to the birds,

to the birds.
Oldish, semi-rewritten.
 Oct 2014 Ally
Harley Hucof
Summon your sorrows i'll take them away
Give me your emotions i'll absorb the pain

Life is hard try to understand
Even if i don't know you i feel the same

Maybe i need help more than you
but it seems that this is what i was born to do


I'll shed a tear for you
Your tears are to be mine

But

Could you shed a tear for me every once in a while?


Words Of Harfouchism
 Oct 2014 Ally
Jack
Forever promises
 Oct 2014 Ally
Jack
~

On this silent beach,
sunset emotions filter a bashful skyline

We watch…poetry written in the sand
slowly eclipsed by a drowsy tide,
sea foam whispers erasing words
of deepest love

Minute granules float somber
neath aquamarine sighs

You fill my arms
upon moistened shores,
velvet lips satisfy my thirst
as warm salt water tingles
gently frame our bodies,
drenched in the moment

My eyes immerse in this beauty
which saturates me

Two souls, a lone silhouette
casting waves of rhythmic
yearnings on a desolate strand,  
passion glistens
of moonbeam blushes
and forever promises
*are kept
Dreaming...they can come true...right?
 Oct 2014 Ally
David Patrick O'C
You can pour love completely
into a wine glass body
Write heart wrenching verse
pure soul poetry
but when you are beat,
dead,
done,
exhausted
weary
the lover beside you
becomes dismantled
and arranged into parts
of burden
temporarily.
Pointy elbows drilling into spine.
Rock hard knees buckling thighs.
Razor sharp toenails
scour
ankles and calf.
Sprawled limbs
invading your bed half.
Thieves of warm sheets
and cosy duvets.
Gurgling,
snorting roars
snoring,
snoring,
snoring away.
Or teeth grinding
piercing anvil,
hammer and drum.
When extremely tired
Only then your love isn't as fun
as and hour ago
when limbs, torso and flanks
eagerly woven
discarding blankets,
But that was then.
Sleep has a stronger lure
and retorting with your own elbow
or *** shunt
just can't end the snore.
Crying for snoozeville,
you can't take any more.
Suddenly,
a choked snuffle
then blessed silence
as they roll back onto their side
And you sigh, “I love you,”
But grateful for the stop
Better off with bunk beds,
one can still go on top.
 Sep 2014 Ally
Seán Mac Falls
In wilderness, I wait for her—
Flocks of wildfowl are landing,
I watch the sun as it saunters,
Ice starts to form on cold lake.
By smoldering fire, I cannot keep
Warm, embers die in plain night,
Only dreams are comfort as I lie
And when I wake the sun is gone.
 Sep 2014 Ally
Samuel
Scrah-dee-dah
 Sep 2014 Ally
Samuel
it's not often my thoughts stop
     whispering like hummingbird wings
     flitting in and around and out to you

only for a moment and I am once again reminded
             why you continue to impress me
              
         (it's the way you know so much
         and use that to learn more)
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