Winter Allen Jane: Favorites

I only wish to hug you
Like lips **** a cigarette
And inhale your scent
You’re the fire I desire
I need badly to be lite.

I want to smoke you
Until my lungs ache
Until my chest caves in
With toxins and sin
drugs **** me,
but gets me high
Loving a bad boy
Is my cancer
With him I live
For him I’ll die.

#drugs #bad #boys #ill

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

War Poets

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

Christopher James Heyworth

War Poets

Poulton Library and
Adele & I are here to
share with whoever
arrives some thoughts
concerning War and
Literature. Linda sets
us up with chairs and
table, and first here is
delightful surprise: Pat
who I taught thirty years
ago - there will be no
need for me to dig a
trench and put on a
jacket bullet-proof
with tin hat on my
head - Philip Larkin
Alun Lewis, Sassoon
and Wilfred Owen
give staunch support
to Jon Stallworthy's
World War One tome
Anthem for Doomed
Youth: Twelve Poets
but doomed not us
this century later.

(c) C J Heyworth June 2014

Through an Arts Council Grant organised locally here on The Fylde Coast by Adele Robinson of Lancashire Dead Good Poets, there is a continuing series of events over the Summer labelled Walking on Wyre, Wyre being the River Wyre which bypasses Poulton at Skippool Creek, and joins the Irish Sea at Fleetwood.
Poulton Library invited us to discuss War Poetry in particular with interested locals.
Pat who I used to teach and her husband Stuart were the welcome first arrivals and were soon joined by three additional members of Poulton Writers Group who were very prepared to join in and and make the discussion flow. A further husband and wife couple joined us after an hour or so and overall the event proved to be a productive and enjoyable get together.
Once like-minded and amiable folks get together the conversation can gel splendidly.

#poetry #war #women #sailors #soldiers #wwi #industry #suffrage #aircrew #munitions

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

ghostly

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

nichole r

ghostly

hearing useless chatter
feeling gusts of breath
seeing bleeding ink
tasting bitter loneliness
smelling puffs of stale air
being a g h o s t .

#sad #lonely #desperate #alone #ghost #descriptive #ghostly

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

Bones

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

Carl Sandburg

Bones

Sling me under the sea.
Pack me down in the salt and wet.
No farmer's plow shall touch my bones.
No Hamlet hold my jaws and speak
How jokes are gone and empty is my mouth.
Long, green-eyed scavengers shall pick my eyes,
Purple fish play hide-and-seek,
And I shall be song of thunder, crash of sea,
Down on the floors of salt and wet.
Sling me... under the sea.

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

Virginity

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

Amanda

Virginity

There is nothing as free and passionate as your first time
Nothing as innocent
The nervous giggles
The panicked breathing
Touching someone's body
Just to learn every bump and crater
on the surface of their warm skin
The rush of pain
The desperate moans
Nothing as intimate as your first time.

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

And you as well must die, beloved dust

Jun 2014 Winter Allen Jane

megan catcher

And you as well must die, beloved dust

And you as well must die, beloved dust, And
all your beauty stand you in no stead; This
flawless vital hand, this perfect head, This
body of flame and steel, before the gust of
Death, or under his autumnal frost, Shall be
as any leaf, be no less dead than the first
leaf that fell this wonder fled. Altered,
estranged, disintegrated, lost. Nor shall my
love avail you in your hour. In spite of all my
love, you will arise upon that day and wander
down the air obscurely as the unattended
flower, it mattering not how beautiful you
were, or how beloved above all else that dies.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

this is NOT WRITTEN BY ME.
It is written by Edna St. Vincent Millay,

I just thought it was beautiful.

#poem #dying #beautiful