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 May 2016
Akira Chinen
Memories and poems
Leaving the bad ones
Lying with the good
Writing out of habit
Lackluster of passion
Stirring letters in the soup
Sculpting metaphors
Painting words
Yawning in my sleep
My life a month ago
Was more just a dream
Of nothing much
But past lovers
And regrets of
What might have been
Made up stories
Or truths of rage
Trapped living the lie of freedom
From the saftey of my cage

Then was it by fate or chance
Or coincidence
I really could not tell
A harmless message
Sent forth then back
A single image
And a voice
Words both written and spoken
With such beauty and such grace
My curiosity wanted more
And shyly I feed that cat
Another message sent and read
Inspiration whispered to my ear
Then heart
Then soul
Was it flirting or simple kindness
Maybe a little bit of both
My curiosity wanted more
And In truth so did I
I feed and feed the cat and I
The cat grew fat
And my heart grew found
Each new picture seen
Each new word read and heard
Unexplainably
Unplanned
I slowly began to fall
And in falling
Through the darkness
I quickly found
My heart giving into
Madness

Now I start dreaming
Before I fall asleep
And keep dreaming
After I wake  up
Dreams so vivid
Dreams so real
Dreams of falling
Through the madness
Of this love
You have never been in my room
But dream after dream
You have already shared my bed
We have never kissed
But my heart is convinced
It already knows the intimacy
Of your fingers touch
My soul spread with fire
Has burned your image
Upon my eyes
My pillow no fair substitute
For your head
But it knows every secret
Love and lustful whisper
I've wanted to say to you
And I know I shouldn't
But I cave and give in
Because it feels so good
And my senses
Say impossible
How could I have fallen here
Fallen so deep and quick
Into the blazing temptations
Of the devils smile
And the promised comforts
Of arms of paradise
The dark songs
The wailing warnings
The monsters beneath your bed
The devils waiting in your chest
I have fallen still deeper
Wanting all of you
For the delicate warmth
Of your smile
For the sweet songs
That beat in your heart
I would sit with you through
The blackest day
And hold your hands through
Every storm
My heart would want nothing less
Than all of it
To fly next to you
Be it forever
Or just one day
It's love for you
Will never fade
 May 2016
phil roberts
Here I go again
Dubious footsteps
Questionable motives
Perusing the dark and restless past
Changing as perceptions change
And perceptions change with
The tolerance of added years and distance
Creating the uncertainty of honesty
Turn black and white
Into grey elusive shadows
And there
Amidst the darkness of my past
And all my pointless journeys
For the first time ever
I see a small white light
Constant and unblinking
And I am aware deep inside
That this is the long awaited
Birth of peace

                        By Phil Roberts
 May 2016
Stephen Purcell
Dancing in the wind, quite literally.
In the beginning, you danced in the rain,
Your fire doused by the weight of the world.
You spluttered and your glow was crushed.
The expectations of society held you down.
Your movements were feeble and your light was dying.

It began with a touch of innocence, that harmless naiveté that age withers away.
Such a fragile essence of youth is pounded by the harsh reality that is life. Broken.
This acidic reality consumes all; Innocence, hope and simple idealism.
Maturity is a merciless awakening to a ruthless existence.


She drowned you in standards of beauty and perfection.
Did you not realise we are all beautiful?


The moment stops, stands in turmoil
and caustic, sarcastic scepticism.
It builds, climbs and crashes around you.
You fall, die and are swept away.
Only a spark remains.


‘A will to shatter stars.’
Your mind snaps, is reformed and strengthened.
Apparently, “what doesn’t **** you makes you stronger.’


The darkness of your father’s death;
and the morbid beauty contained within that blood-stained image is glorious.
It drives you to new heights and drags you to more depraved depths.


Passion unblocked, and lo, it lies on lofty heights.
Luminous, boundless, binding.
Your smouldering coal bursts into flame anew.
A curious desire for life is born;
Its candle flickers alongside a raging inferno.


A rebirth ensues.
Complete eclipse of restriction cycles from new moon to full.
The lunar light darkens shade by shade, shadows lengthen and the sky descends.


Lightning arcs though strong clouds.
Pulsing energy razes the heavens in its purest form.
This is the ultimate representation of your freed mind.
This chaotic rolling mass of fury, built up over years of restrained frustration.

Inexorably intertwined, our threads on fates tapestry weave over and over.
A ghost of echoing sentiment remains, one that must be guided, lest it is forever lost.



Gently nurturing a recovering mind is a tedious process.
Great perseverance and patience are required to preserve both its sanity and your own.
‘Tis a far reaching and noble goal, yet one of the most arduous of all to pursue.


This explosion of your psyche and subsequent downfall leaves a dangerous dilemma.
A block, if you will. A redeeming light remains from your rapid release of consciousness.
The key, is in finding that light.
Unlocking this matrix of memory produces a spectacular result.
This web of twisting thoughts spins in the air.
Dancing in the wind, quite literally.
I hear the beauty of melodies sung by winged ones,
as darkness descends.
Birds sing their sweet songs
at dusk once again.
Their lovely voices ring out
in the quiet of the night.
The darkness does not fill them
with fright.
Birds.
Among the black branches.
Singing their songs at dusk.
To my heart a message they send:
May I also sing along with them
when darkness descends.
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