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 Dec 2011
William Alexander
Love, last night you walked
Into my room and peeled off  your skin
For me, a sigh still clinging to your throat,
Waiting for the forceful
Expulsion of your exhale.

Peel it for me.

You hung your fears on my pleas,
Whispering the words I mouthed to you,
Mouthing them back onto me.
Lights off this is you
At your finest.

I love you, at your most nervous.

Last night you wrote on my skin
With your tongue, the words still cool
On my warm body.
Only the tips of your fingers remain,
Scrawling your name on my back as if you
Could tattoo the permanency of love with touch.
 Dec 2011
William Alexander
Lazarus

The night blew darkness into me
But you, you whispered my name,
Splintered apart these eyelids
Let the syllables wrap themselves
Around me, carried me back to you.
Awaken you said, and so I did and you
Let the words Come forth drip down
Into my ear drums, and so I did.
I came back to you, uncurled my body
To the sunlight peering itself
From behind you and I knelt,
Knelt for your touch, knelt for your words
To awaken more than just this,
This limp body, give me reason for being,
And so you did, you took this skin
And struck life through it,
Taught me to roll my tongue, to own
Your language, and you pressed
Your forefinger to my forehead and said
I will take you home.
 Dec 2011
William Alexander
A Familiar Wound

The doctors slit your belly
To get to your spine
And cushion the disks
That slipped from you
Like soapy plates
From frail worn hands.

I was ten when you asked me
To wipe the stitched opening
With swabs and gauze
and to make sure that
The staples would not pop
From their place, exposing you.

I bent down next to you,
My knees denting craters
Into the carpet, and cleaned off
The stapled wound running
Perpendicular to the scar
That opened up years before
To place me in your arms and hear you
Whisper my name into being.

The pills slurred your words,
Your tongue undulating lazily
Heavily weighted in your mouth,
Rolling out gracias mijo
And I blushed, realizing
What a small gesture this was
Nursing the same belly
That held me inside years ago.
 Dec 2011
Misnomer
Sometimes saltwater taffy
stretches me and gestures
in sticky state, beckoning
each slip of sand beneath
my callouses of callouses.

The grandiose sweep of droplets
collect as an exhibition, mirrored
facets of mischievous personas,
each angled at the brighter side.

I wonder if the sun tilts its beams
in further reconsideration
when she stares at the trailing water.

Must you perceive me in
that way?

Are my tendrils trembling
with a locked spring of green sea foam--

truly?

She skipped her duty today,
a blush of gray flocked
larger than last night's geese.
 Dec 2011
John F McCullagh
Since I have poetic license
and don't get out much at all.
I sometimes think of words as people
- it beats talking to the wall.

So I had a chat with "Friend" today
after one or several Brews
Thanks to social sites like Facebook
"Friend" is often in the news.

"Friend" you're looking tired,
Exhausted, overused.
People have abused you
like they'd treat a rented mule.

Folks who'd be acquaintances
back in the days of yore,
are now best friends forever
and we have them by the score.

Our brains are not hardwired
to handle friendships by the score
Our mundane lives no longer private
either "liked" or, worse, ignored.

"Friend" has  suffered from inflation
like the dollar now and then
Both seemed once to have value
comparing now to way back when.
 Dec 2011
Misnomer
The cube of your quirk
swaddles the malleability of each
gap, whistling bones in your mouth
sensing each flicker of the tongue,
where the start of commas halt,
and periods huff their first breath.

When you pause,
the temperature of Chicago's
bittersweet icing shivers once more,
good-bye's of sodden mittens
lacking any human warmth.

Let me tremble again,
an aura a sense of plowed gratitude
that reaches the confinements of
wingless teachings.

If your pupils would embark
to the shameful crumbs of soil,
passageway to mass of mind,
I'd delve deeper to blinded chambers,
the cooing a menacing siren.
 Nov 2011
K Balachandran
If you sit quiet a bit and think
you will be dragged  in to this doubt;
is it  a dream, all  that we think real?
Doesn't it look like you take refuge
in a traveler's lodge for a day or two
then silently depart?

I had this secret always
in wakefulness and sleep
kept close to my chest
" I am made of dreams
that were extracted
from the patches of realities
of centuries, that has to do something
with valorous men and beauties"

I searched in the dark corners
of my psyche, many many times
but the real secret eluded
like an apparition turning in a moment
to a whiff of thin smoke

One day I had this dream
I was in this museum
the time has come, I reached there;
in the vacant lot near the deserted museum
was lone olive tree, a cryptic  marker,
there she stood,
Cleopatra with the deadly cobra
at the last moment of her life
"I was waiting for you
the oracles never go wrong"
then she held me close
and planted her last kiss
the most searing ever ,I could guess
like poison dissolving in to blood
it got mingled with my psyche
turning it in to a blood colored wound
then and there
I fell in to the time warp.
O
 Oct 2011
The They
Now I will sing you this lullaby
About a man who could not die
All around him the world did pass
Like an endless hourglass:
He roamed the beaches throughout the land
Counting every grain of sand,
While in and out flowed the sea
Like another passing memory
And every night the sky grew dim
The ocean always sang to him
And lulled him to uneasy sleep
Troubled by his lonely keep
But with his final conscious breath
He’d always whisper his wish for death
I was compelled to get out of bed in the middle of the night to write this.

This was found originally on http://the-they.blogspot.com/
 Mar 2011
Bellis Tart
that voice of yours
at the bottom of the stairs below
takes my breath to places
i do not know
but my muscles don't flinch
nor do i outwardly show
though my heart beats so fast
out my chest it will go
like a ghost through the wall
i feel your voice flow
and it calls not my name
for you i no longer know
 Feb 2011
Bellis Tart
some people write birthday cards
but there is no mail delivered where you are
so a poem to wish you the best on this special day
no matter if you are near or far

Happy birthday to my big brother
this day of yours is like no other
for this is the day the world was blessed with your grace
though you were taken too soon from this place
another year passes as we miss you more and more
and will write you birthday poems, till you answer heavens door
where we'll meet with balloons and your million dollar smile
and we'll have a birthday party like we haven't had in a while
we'll toast our glasses to our reunited family
while we recant times passed cannily
but till that time comes brother dear
know that I hold your memory ever so near
along with every cleverly placed dime
that I know you've dropped just for me to find
so in closing, all I wanted to say
was I miss you so much, and
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
(c) 23/02/11
it's not till march 25, but I've been thinking about you lots lately
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