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 May 2013
AJ D'Angelo
~
we had dreams
when we laid on our backs
and saw the stars
for the very  first time
those tiny specks of light
finally came into focus
and those holes in our heads
finally opened to the world
our hopes grew with us
and all along we saw the world through
a ruby red tint
we were to busy to blink
oh, those long nights
spent staring at blank walls
trying to form an idea
of everything around us
and even through
the hardships and pains
we still had each other
to shield us from the world
 May 2013
Raymond Johnson
this music sends electric
chills
down
my
spine
in all of the ways
i
wish
you
would

the bittersweet refrain
of your voice saying my name
is my favorite melody in the world

the lights in your eyes
illuminate my world
like the pulsing strobes ignite the dance floor

my heart beats at exactly
one hundred and forty
beats per minute
whenever you enter my field of view

the song of my life is really only
half written
without you
help me with a title please!
 May 2013
Raymond Johnson
I look into the mirror
and do not recognize the man I see
once caged like a bird,
I have finally been  set free.

"Who are you?" I ask my reflection.
It simply answers, "Me."

I've grown new branches,
offered up fruit,
like a virile hazel tree.
Now I refuse to be chained,
ruled by any arbitrary decree.

I have risen from the dust.
Shaken off all the debris.

My fingers have become webbed,
gills adorn my neck,
and I begin my sojourn towards the sea.

Apart from any zealotry or wizardry,
apathetic to any bourgeoisie,
I look towards the future
utterly filled with glee.
 May 2013
Raymond Johnson
you were once the object of my affection
now you are the vehicle for my introspection
I used to love you, but now with every slipping
second
minute
hour
day
and week
I can feel you drifting farther away.
my once crimson heart has turned a solemn shade of grey.
 May 2013
Hastings Padua
and bowls full
of wilting basil, stewed
until the house was angry
and steamy and sweating
and i was a *****
all alone. i burnt a batch,
and cursed the garden
for its absurd bounty.
what is this? this late-august
harvest of excess. too much
for me to enjoy. but nature,
she has been good this year.
later, i watched a woman push
her cart down the middle
of the road. i could smell
the funk from her moldy jacket
and unwashed hair and the fungus
between her toes. she stared
with her hardened eyes,
like the bitter sun that burned
the tomatoes into exploding clusters
of juice and seeds. her calloused hands
squeezed rotting blankets in her cart,
writhed in some quiet strangulation
of some stranded moment.
i passed by and caught her eye.
we were equals, in blood and in bone,
trapped in some jarring expectation
of destination, in uncertainty
and in hope. she will go back
to her corner to watch the world
drive by, i will go back to my stove
and simmer, waiting for the summer harvest.
 May 2013
Susan O'Reilly
Gripping you as hard as I can

not letting go your my man

she’s become your no. 1 fan

jealousy’s her name, revenge her plan

You’ve given me no reason to feel this way

but I feed her passion every day

she constantly wants to play

always ready, your faults, to display

The time you smiled at the check-out girl

she got my head all in a whirl

whispering things, emotions to unfurl

I’m finding her hard to control

Yesterday she followed you

her actions I rue

hateful words she did spew

while making sure your in her view

I know she’ll do something and we’ll be over

our relationship won’t be able to recover

you’ll find a more trusting lover

and not have to travel undercover

I’m sorry for me

but she feels no pity

happily destroying me
 May 2013
Skye Applebome
Are you being honest?
Or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?

Do you think I just don't care?

Don't you see how much it hurts to know you're suffering?

And not be able to do anything about it?

Let me help you...

I know I've made mistakes....
And that's why you don't trust me....
But you deserve happiness....

What do you DON'T deserve is all the suffering you deal with.

I don't think you understand.

When I'm talking to you, my problems are melting away
Because I'm scared for you
And want to help you
If only you'd let me in



But then again
You'd know what's best for you

And I haven't been the best of friends
I've broken your trust and lied to you
I wouldn't trust me if I were in your position right now either.
But I still wish you did....because I care and want to help
But lately every conversation we have leaves me more and more confused about how you're doing.

*Feel better soon!
For a friend of mine who's been hurting for a long time, and has (justifiable) trust issues.
 May 2013
R
I put on that fake smile
Hoping someone would notice.
Hoping someone would care.
But the people that seem to fall into my life
Never really do.
 May 2013
JM Romig
The only thing
that can be heard for miles
is the screeching of the metal ropes
of the playground swing

and the laughter of the little boy
whose feet are just barely long enough
to push the ground away
JM Romig © 2013
Gravity:
What goes up,
must come down.
That's what Science tells us.

And though I've never felt
the need to understand things,
only people,
I find myself circling around the
concept of gravity,
and how well it plays with
eastern ideology, with death.

After the spirit ascends,
It must come, crashing, back down
to Earth.
Sparking against the surface
as a new soul, a new way of being.

I've always been told
to read between the lines,
and maybe I've been treating my textbook
like a work of fiction,
but what if gravity is just
a metaphor for obsessive affection,
and reincarnation it's very
toxic enabler?

What if we're just stuck
in limbo, until the Earth
learns how to let us go?
 May 2013
Raymond Johnson
POETRY IS NOT PUBLISHED IN A BOOK
OR SCRIBBLED IN A JOURNAL.

IT IS NOT COMPOSED OF STRICT METER AND RHYME,
STANZA AND STRUCTURE,
ASSONANCE AND ALLITERATION.

POETRY IS NATURE.

POETRY IS NON-SEQUITUR.

POETRY IS THE WAY OUR HIPS AND LIPS
INTERTWINE LIKE GRASPING VINES
WITH DETERMINATION AND GRACE
THAT IS SIMPLY DIVINE.

POETRY IS THE WAY YOU WAKE UP ON A LAZY SUMMER SUNDAY MORNING
AND LISTEN TO THE HEARTBEAT OF YOUR LOVER
LYING NOT TOO FAR AWAY.

POETRY IS THE COMPASSION AND SELFLESS DESIRE
THAT CAUSES US TO BUY MEALS FOR STRANGERS
AND TIP EXTRA JUST FOR THE HELL OF IT.

POETRY IS THE FACT THAT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US IS ANOTHER INFINITELY RANDOM MANIFESTATION OF THE UNIVERSE ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND ITSELF THROUGH CONVOLUTED COSMIC INTROSPECTION.

POETRY IS THE WAY THAT THE STARDUST FLOWS THROUGH OUR VEINS AND THE LIMITLESS POTENTIAL OF HUMAN CREATIVITY HIDES JUST OUT OF SIGHT BEHIND OUR EYES.

POETRY IS THE WAY THE WISE WINDS BLOW SOFTLY THROUGH THE TREES, WHISPERING SECRETS TO ANYONE WHO WISHES TO HEAR.

POETRY IS THE WAY THE RIVER LOVINGLY EMBRACES EACH AND EVERY PEBBLE IN THE RIVERBED LIKE A MOTHER HOLDING HER NEWBORN SONS.

POETRY IS ORGANIC.
MALLEABLE.
THESE WORDS ARE NOT POETRY -
LIFE IS POETRY.
DEATH IS POETRY.
LOVE -
LOSS -
STRIFE -
SUCCESS -
POETRY.
WE ARE POETRY.
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