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 Jun 2014
Tina ford
Let's talk political, why because it's critical, do ya think you fit the bill,
On the street with a beat of the multi cultural heat,
That's startin to burn up and churn up, but no one will show up and turn up,
If it's a revolution for a solution to all the pollution,
That's forced in our brain, not for material gain, it's insane, and the same,
Over and over again and again,
It's on the news, bringing blues of lies and trues,
We want fair play, a decent wage pay, don't wanna lose at the game you play,
Listen with your ear, take the words you hear, do not fear, it's clear,
We're not the bad, but we're sad, at what we could of had,
You risk it, take the biscuit, take our lives and mess them up mixing it,
We're fed up, not getting told what's up and what's said by your head, as you lay in his bed,
He's your leader, the feeder, the taker of what we need yeah,
We're cryin for a voice, a choice, someone to make a noise,
Is it me...... T, unlikely to see,
I'm not brave, but I wanna save,
Humanity from all this insanity,
I'm no joke but I choke on the smoke,
Of the cultural heat on the street,
I know....... I'm just to sweet.
Bansharee

tends cows in the field
her hairs deep wisps in the wind
her dark skin
an unfathomed mist
her perfume
rice washed
her feet
conqueror of wild grass

Bansharee...bansharee...
she tends cows in the field
a warrior in the wild wind
an autumn of all seasons
runs self willed
floats on the field
over her clouds gather
there isn't a match for her
in her cracked glass mirror
she is two
one a wild warrior
with a face only the wind loves
and the other
weather beaten
by fate cursed
but dreaming...

in some heart somewhere
for her
love is nursed!


Bansharee...Bansharee...
 May 2014
Marshal Gebbie
To…
My best friend and lover.
Protector of my lies
…You rescued me
And ****** me to my fate.

Spiralled the dopamine to brilliance
In my mind.
To spangled halls of light,
Reflective light, and calm.
A golden calm
Of energised, invincible intensity……

Addiction is thy name.
Compulsion is thy talent

Up, up the trammelled pathway
From the innocence of a ****
To the chaotic expense of ****,
Then to the dreamy, smoked Opiates,
And the scars of the needles
And magic of Coke & big H ?

And ultimately…
It’s all not enough!
The hollow inadequacy of it all
When finally…..
Nothing,
Nothing achieves flight.
Nothing attains the heights.
Nothing satisfies
Like it used to…..
No amount of money
Buys satisfaction!

Hopelessly
Into the Black Hole.

Down, down the trammelled pathway
And the body is wasted, thin
And the mind in misery,
And broke, utterly penniless,
Exhausted and spent,
Estranged and abandoned,
Alone, so alone.

Down the trammelled pathway
To the inevitable retreat
Into failure’s squalid,
numbing, bitter
End.

M.
May 31 2014
From the outside looking in.
 May 2014
Stephen E Yocum
We fumbled some,
We Technology fools.
One more new thing
to sort out, and learn.
Then there you were
looking back at me
in real time,
Your face devoid
of makeup, hair a muss,
Still Beautiful as always.

My face top right,
smaller then yours, smiling.
Looking slightly embarrassed.
Hand holding the devices,
made it feel we were at sea.

How very strange and yet
wonderful it all seemed.
Some real 21st Century ****.
Star Trekking it, as it were.
Two old "Face Time" virgins.
Laughing and flirting,
like teen age kids.
From Old Dial Phones to Smart Phones
What a world this is.
 May 2014
CA Guilfoyle
Back where I used to roam
beyond the mulberry hills
running from sudden black storms,
torrential August monsoons
soaked thoroughly through

Oh, to be a motherless child of the hills, again
quick to dance away the depths of lonely
always looking to the sea for distraction
and possibility

After a storm, I listened for life
how the hilly flowers shined, alive with bees
the birds and buzz all about the field
in a world, that was everything real to me
and made all the difference, in knowing
what it was to be free

While glints of gold skimmed the horizon
I'd dry my shoes in the last hour of the sun
dreaming to live right there, where I belonged
dreading the long dragging back home
 May 2014
Edward Coles
I am a lonely narcissist,
In a fit, in a struggle,
And straining to exist.

The almonds are sugared,
The potatoes: starched.
A hipster-dream
Of third-world colours,
Stretched out on my back,
And lamenting the distance of stars.

Bumper caravans of **** and cherry cola vacations;
They fill my mind in the coming of summer.
There’s beer bottled tears
And eyes left bloodshot,
In this fevered remission
To a life we forgot.

But change, is change, is change;
I’m listening to jazz and not heavy guitar,
And my teenage lover is a sacrificed cathedral
In the laying down of all arms.

Still, I’m looking to stay sober
For a week or so, or more.
But another day, year or era to come;
For now I’ll just get up and off the floor.

I’m self-obsessed but devoid of self,
In a rigid flow of car window reflections;
A body check to see if my shadow still exists.

How much does a shadow weigh?
But first: where can you get me some blow?
You see, I need to sharpen up my ambition,
To thaw out in the frozen snow.

It can’t be long, old friend,
Before one of us succumbs to addiction.
A ****** jaw, or a healer’s mouth;
Well, I guess that either can offer
A place for us to mend.

I think I see my life now.
Its purple light is cast off in the distance.
I am coming off chemo
For a couple weeks more,
I am combing the meadows,
And I am asking for more.
c
 May 2014
K Mae
I took me to the ocean shore
let the wind blow through my core
hollowing to hear the tune
empty as I watched the moon
questioning all that I knew
darkening to black and true

— The End —