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 Nov 2014 Bell'Alta
Taylor Stein
I used to think love was all in the dramatic
Life films made from memories found in the attic

But now I'm not so sure
And I'm hoping that means I'm just more mature

I don't want to lose the allure of love
But I also wanted to see it in reality, not just from above

Love can sometimes be screaming matches and passionate kisses
Running, hunting for each other like the church for Salem witches

But now I'm finding what I want most
Is quiet afternoons, long bike rides, and morning toast

For I've had enough drama to last a lifetime
And I haven't been on this earth for a long time.
 Nov 2014 Bell'Alta
Ashley Browne
dad left
for his second tour of duty
on my third birthday

mom kept
a jar full of jelly beans
on the living room coffee table

every night
she gave me one to eat, saying
"when these jelly beans
are all eaten up,
dad will come back home"

sometimes
i would sneak another,
to help dad come home sooner

one night
the phone rang
and i watched mom
wipe away a tear
as she filled
the jar
back
up
On this Remembrance Day, I think of all those who have served, with a special thought for Dad.  And though she has no medals, I also think of Mom; every tour of duty Dad went through, she went through too, taking care of us on her own.

*** Edit: Thank you for all your kind words!  Due to a recent outpouring of sympathy, I feel it necessary to clear up the fact that my dad did in fact make it home from this mission; his tour had simply been extended for an additional 3 months.  Still, it isn't easy being part of a military family - and that's what I meant to show. ***
 Nov 2014 Bell'Alta
kaye
i've tried making poetry
spinning silk from cobwebs
sitting in the corners of my mind
trying to sew them
into sweaters that smell like you
so i could sleep at night

ever since i met you
i've been swallowing ball point pens
so i could spit out poems
everytime you cut me open.

there's ink in my veins
and i can't get them out
i can't quit this now, it's too late,
i've become addicted to your mouth

i painted my cheeks red;
you painted it black and blue
you turned me into art right?
i don't understand
why they kept telling me to leave you.

you tell me you don't love me,
and i keep saying i don't care.
i've felt it in your kisses
there's never been a spark in the air

you ask me why
and i tell you:
you're my favorite kind of pain.
not to be cliche, but i'd like to die
whispering your name.

my friends say i'm a fool,
"if it's an addiction, then quit"
but honesty is the best poetry,
and i'm getting pretty good at it.
This morning I figured:

(1) The reason I'm so thin is because sadness kills my appetite; I'm a love poet.

(2) I keep thinking about how, in order to complete the aesthetic of a damaged artist, I need even longer and even messier hair and a never-ending supply of cigarettes. I want to be the black Albert Camus.

(3) I'm obviously very, very bored because I've never smoked anything in my life.
La vie.
When your heart remembers

When the heart remembers
What you want to forget
The pain felt inside
Is not over yet

You push it down
And say it's not there
It grows in your heart
And you say you don't care

But the hurt is still real
Not just in your head
The sorrow is seen
In tears that are shed

When your heart remembers
What you want to forget
The pain felt inside
Is not over yet


Carl Joseph Roberts
 Jun 2014 Bell'Alta
Francie Lynch
We're still stars
Running track:
Leaning forward
Glancing back.
The timer's thumb
Is poised to press:
I'll run with you
'Til my last breath.
Across our path
Like a finish line,
Wait all the loves
We left behind.
Editted and re-posted.
charcoal.

yes

a soft substance

easily crushed,

manipulated.

must ensure,

i am not

sbm.
She
She must be able to see what I see
Feel what I feel
Hear what I hear.
Does she blind herself?
Does she deafen herself?
Does she deaden the pain somehow?
I scream inside that this is not you,
you are worth more.
Love is not a slap
Love is not staying
Love is not hearing over and over words such as *****.
But, she is not me anymore, she has chosen a path.
A path I cannot follow, but follow I must,
for she is me I am her.
the physical me switches me off, just before
the blow, just before the scream.
© JLB
12/06/2014
 May 2014 Bell'Alta
LETITFXRING
blue
 May 2014 Bell'Alta
LETITFXRING
I ask her to describe her mood
By color
& she said*  *"blue"
& I asked her why she's sad
She responded


*"I'm not,
I just love the way the ocean makes me feel
I love the water
So therefore I'm blue"
Defining colors in a way it's different
 May 2014 Bell'Alta
LETITFXRING
I'll wake up
&
I feel like
I'm still
Dreaming
10w
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