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 Feb 2015
Nat Lipstadt
read a thousand love stories,
pause, rest awhile,
read ten thousand more,
and then deny equality.

If you ask for no more than you can give,
you ask for not enough

love is imbalance not an equation,
with a single solution

love has both constants and variable factors

so you write of tribulations and tributes
so you write of lamentations and liftings

you think you are on the same page
perhaps
but do we not all read at different paces?

one of you is solid, one is dotted and dashed
one of you is straight, one is bent, forever curving

when you think you are
in balance
in the same place
in syncopation

perhaps you are for a moment
a calculus of one point on a trajectory

and you say I can only ask for what I give
and am given
and no more,
you have miscalculated

this flux
flummoxed
when the old terrain is flayed flat
but thru the windshield you see the
plateau ends, the geography unknown,

when you see unknown
when you seek the unknown
when you give from places you did not know
you had to give from
when you kiss a hand
for  twenty minutes more than than the one minute you intended
when you give more than is asked
when you ask for more than you can you think you can give
the imbalance is the only concert
the imbalance is the the only constant

how do I know this?
what are my credentials?
you are not a teenage girl,
what matters of what you know of these matters?

I am who I am
a diversity of man and manner
I am past prime and in decline
but this I know
for having failed ten thousand poem times
you must ask for more than one can give

but that's not fair!

silly one, still wretched confused,
even after one hundred
thousand poem times

you must ask of
yourself
more than you can give
and ask no less
demand no less

a body in emotion is not a body in rest
when the imbalance is too great or insufficient
then you write a poem
look in the mirror that cannot lie
and move
on
or
move
off

and begin to ask
yourself
to whom may I give myself
more than is asked
then you have finally asked
the correct solution to the
unsolvable equation
 Feb 2015
SøułSurvivør
^¡^    

                    ^¡^


^¡^                              ^¡^

as we floated
over the high desert in
New Mexico the color splayed
out like river deltas and sunshine
collected in the hairs of our arms
so high were we that Sandia Peak
couldn't graze the bottom of our
gondola. Then we saw it. A
wee butterfly lost on the
updrafts! Trying to
catch it I almost
fell out of the
\     \     /     /
\   \   /   /
gondola
all I saw
was a flit



of wing
and she was gone.
I've never experienced the
Thrill of being up in a
Hot air balloon

This is a 'flight' of fancy

^¡^
 Feb 2015
Joe Cole
The anvils rang and the hammers rose
To beat out bright blades of dwarvish steel
These were blades for elven kings
For soon the wars would rage
The Mordor hordes were marching
From the blacklands they would come
Bringing death and desolation
To the green and pleasant lands
But the elven hosts were marching
Alongside dwarves and men
And the eagles circled above them
Eyes searching every vale and glen
Bright were the swords of the elven kings
Tightly strung the bows
Heavy the axes and hammers of the mountain dwarves
Long and fierce the spears of men
The horse lords rode there on the flanks
And also in the van
They would be the first to fight
When the orchish hordes came into sight
Orc riders the target for their spears
Wargs the targets for their swords
To buy the times for the elven kings
To form their battle lines
 Feb 2015
Joe Cole
I walked out to my patio for my last cigarette
On my lawn fluorescent lights in perfect silhouette
This can't be right I told myself
For in winter mushrooms do not glow
But I watched in stunned amazement
As the ring of mushrooms grew
And then I heard a tinkling sound
Music sweet to the ear
And at that point I realized
That the faerie folk were here
The mushrooms glowing in the night
Their shelter from the cold
Their simple songs of peace and love
Were simple songs of old
I knelt transfixed by what I saw
Those dancing faerie lights
But all to soon this magic beauty
Vanished just like the Northern Lignts
There is magic in the air, you just have to believe

— The End —