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 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Gary Muir
you are birdsong
you are moonlight
you are white snow
you are rippling cornstalks
you are rolling hills
you are the sun setting behind the mountains
you are morning air, and dew
you are a ripple in a quiet lake
you are refracted light in a flowing stream
you are a bed of lilacs warmed by the sun

you are beauty
beauty is you
for emma
They used to have a routine
The two of them
Every day at ten past one PM
They’d sit in the fourth row
Of the classroom
Side by side
She’d listen attentively
To the teacher’s lecture
And he’d wander through his
Thoughts; listening to his mind
His massive arm would drape
Over her petite frame
Her dark corkscrewed hair would surge
Till it lay atop his free hand; a color contrast
But the routine changed
As did some feelings
Everyday at ten past one PM
She’d sit in the fourth row
Of the classroom
All alone
She’d listen attentively
To the teacher’s lecture
I would slowly work up the nerve
To slide into the lone seat beside her
Her dark corkscrewed hair surged
Till it whipped around as she could see
That is was me
That I was not him

She smiled
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
dj
tunnel vision life
everything happening far away
backwards telescope
high school prom
pink & blue balloons

I walked through those doors
off the devil's wagon
like a poltergeist I was either
invisible
or a painted blood red target

Alone in the hallways
they laughed at me
a wasp-like
******
entombed in toilet paper
spit & magic marker
they didn't hate me,
they got me to hate me
everywhere I went their
gummy bioengineered shadow stalked
it was stuck on me all those years

like a bucket of pigs blood to the head
that I could never wash off

but I'm not that loser anymore
Don't worry, dea  r
Lo ve me.
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Jack Turner
This is Southern California - the land of surf, sand and sun -
But since things went south between you and me
All of that has been replaced by the rainy and grey.
This weather system that rolled in has been
Hanging around like the memories of you.

You said I meant a lot to you,
But the way you pushed me away and let me go
Despite admitting you still had feelings for me
Has got me confused and I'm reaching season lows.

Things weren't perfect, that I do know,
But I had hoped having this winter break respite
Might allow us the time we needed to make the turn around,
To make things all right.

Now I sit and think of you.
I hope that winter's been treating you great.
I hope you've caught up on sleep
And aren't losing it up at night thinking of me.
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Jack Turner
I think my favorite subject is me.
Simple,
Humble,
Me.
I can think of nothing and no one else more worthy of writing about.

Y es, I know it seems a little narcissistic, and
O f course, some people might take it the wrong way, but
U nder the circumstances, who else would I really want to write about?
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Jack Turner
India   MikeIndiaSierraSierra   YankeeOscarUniform,   AlphaNovemberDelta
India   WhiskeyAlphaSierra   Alpha   FoxtrotOscarOscarLima.
YankeeOscarUniform   AlphaRomeoEcho   PapaEchoRomeoFoxtrotEchoCharlieTango
AlphaNovemberDelta   EchoVictorEchoRomeoYankeeTangoHotelIndiaNovemberGolf
India   CharlieOscarUniformLimaDelta   EchoVictorEchoRomeo   WhiskeyAlphaNovemberTango.

Now why couldn't I just come out and tell when I had the chance?
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Jack Turner
A pelican glides by
Making a long, lazy slice through the air.
The look of an ungainly and awkward bird
But a more graceful glide and flight
You will not find.

Catching the updraft right off the surface
And that pelican rides along
With barely a movement.
It is effortless.
Inches from the blue-grey waters.

It pulls up and lands on a rock outcrop
To watch as a lonely boat cuts
The water of the harbor
Heading out to sea.

Five knots in the entrance channel.
Soon it will gear up and find cruising speed
En route to who knows where
In this weather.

I hope they get there before
Those rains on the horizon arrive.
Because alone at sea in a boat
Is no way to ride out a storm.
 Apr 2013 Angie Sea
Jack Turner
This white has been beautiful.
Sometimes so much so that I would say
I have never seen anything so pristine.
The way it drifts down from the sky,
Coasting lightly down to the already snow-covered ground.
It might land upon the branch of a tree
Or possibly on a nearly covered bush.
And the way it deadens sound,
How it eliminates all the extraneous,
Adds to the aura of perfection.

But I'm ready to go home.
I have had enough.
I'm ready for all of the smog, traffic, congestion and sound,
And I'm ready for my ***** sand beaches.
Those cold, dark waters provide
Stark Contrast
To those endless slopes of the purest white.

But I am ready to go home.
I'm ready to go back where I belong.
Home.
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