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 Sep 2012 Day
Janette
I drink in His midnights

Lips parted to taste the rich darkness
Washing over my tongue, that begs
to caress rapturous shadows
Soothing my thirst within the twelfth hour
Catching prayers in palms, lapping the secrets
that I hunger for in quiet repose

I bathe in His moonlight

Soft, winds trace my skin
where southern breezes bring the crave
To hear intimate commands to limbs and heart
Adorned only in delicate sighs,
Tethered, to the beams of Lunas jealous glow
surrendering my desires to nights
silken absolution
Moaning my truths
through silent pleas
for nocturnal deliverance

I breathe in His twilight

Filling my chest
with the names of eternal passion
Woven through my breath
******* heaving, as I gasp
at the stars primal ******
Bringing me to my knees
in overwhelming clarity
of this nights worship to sky

He has become my expression of want

Where fingers trace the wet I create
every time hands grasp tender my submission
My body is given raw, laid for feast and pleasure
prepared for the communion of liquid embrace
Becoming immortally bound to euphoric whispers
dancing forbidden verses
over what has become His, alone......
 Sep 2012 Day
SWB
I often wake up shivering
under the thin excuse
of a tapestry
I use as a bed sheet.
My naked body curls
its bones in a weak
attempt to make heat
for itself
by itself.
As my sleepy brains
struggle to freeze the week,
to make the morning gape.
Eventually I lift myself
and stumble over to the
roaring ac unit
and turn its knobs
At ease!
only to wake up within the hour
smothered in my own sweat,
my feeble solitary sheet
now a cheese cloth
and once again I stumble
over to the *******
and turn its knobs over again.
I play this game often
here in my simple apartment
in the midst of monsoons
and torrential brain storms.
To keep score would drive
me mad- make a poor sport
out of me.
Nobody ever wins anyways.
it's worse when I am in my bed
and not alone,
but so is another game
I find myself playing.
Too often I play a game
I like to call  "just one more cigarette"
-this game has a definite loser
and it's always definitely me.
This game keeps score without me:
the first one to 20 loses.
 Sep 2012 Day
Tom Orr
Happening
 Sep 2012 Day
Tom Orr
Weathered, waxy layer in wind and rain,
Droplets detour, dividing on the earthy ground.
Autumn peaks - the skeletal structure begins to emerge;
Crispy, frail webs of skin become brittle and break.

Released from the branchy cage,
The voyage begins with ebb and flow,
Rocking like a pendulum -
Momentum builds ceaselessly.

Time passes, and sand seeps
Through the hourglass,
Like droplets of glassy tears,
Shattering. Salty pools percolate
Through linen sheets.

Wind whittles aimlessly through
A boulevard of undergrowth.
The robin settles and observes,
Twittering sweet hymns
Amongst the wooden cathedrals.

A new leaf is turned.
The renaissance of Autumn awaits another year.
 Sep 2012 Day
Jon Tobias
There must have been at least a couple hundred pounds of it
All trash
All things to let go

I find pens
A glittery black heart shaped paddle from Halloween
Old poetry
Stories
Photos
A set of drums

This how you body-bag your excess
Give your heart fat a proper burial

It is shedding weight

Take what you need
Take what you need
Enough so not sticking around is easy

I have a runaway pipe-dream
That in the telling
I have whiskey lung
And a voice like carnival gravel
Like semi-ground teeth in a bag you hold on your tongue

A comic strip hobo
With a stick and a red rag

Fresh starts imply shaking dead weight
That includes people

So much **** gone
**** I never needed
And was never going to use
But I was living with it
 Sep 2012 Day
Samuel
our house lights dim, a
hush spread thin as a whisper
caught on your tongue embraces
eyes, hearts, calls them closer

to the passionate vibration between
mind and string from my
girl across the world, it seems a
symphony of indelible impact,
vocalization
to sympathetic heart-drum as
I close my eyes

once more dreaming
for two hands in the dark
(hold this for as long as you like)
 Jan 2012 Day
Ellie Stelter
Doors
 Jan 2012 Day
Ellie Stelter
I stumbled through the world at midnight
And every door I came to, I knocked
Who are you, what are you doing here?
Questions from sleep-slanted voices,
Their light casting shadows over me.
I told them I was studying.
What are you studying? they always asked
Life, I said. I'm studying life.
You can't be here, they would say
You have to go, study life somewhere else,
I'm trying to sleep. And slam the doors.
Meanwhile I was really just looking for the door
Whose inhabitants would ask me to stay a while
But so far, no one has said come in, you look cold,
Study life somewhere warm.
And so finally I have resolved
That if ever someone comes knocking on my door
Not looking for anything- for food, answers, or a place to stay,
I'll let them in.
Even if it is midnight and they spew some ******* about studying life.
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