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 Nov 2011 Der Ganzumsonst
Zoe Ray
I don’t know if I can ever love you enough
Because my love is tainted
layered and smothered
by the eyes
the heart and mind
the soil
of a land that I love
more than myself
I am a creation
of her
I am a puppet
of her
I am a preacher
of her
The words on my tongue
are the alphabet of her
the only language I have known
The sore in my back
is the hurt of her
The pain in my eyes
is the sight of her
So deeply engraved is my heart
in her land
that I would give you up
I would settle it once and for all
I would lay down my rights
to your comfort
your friendship
I would cover the void
that you leave if I leave you
with the tears of her children
the dirt of her ground
the songs of her heart
I would cover the nameless
faceless whiteness of the void
with India

(c) Zoe Johnson 2010
Crouched between the table & the wall
with his eyes in his hands
& his mouth in the shape of a small
barren island in the Atlantic Ocean
he waits for the blow to fall

Opposite him in the angle formed
by a filing cabinet & a drinks dispenser
a tiny furry creature does the rat-fink-a-boo-boo
its eyes blinking furiously
its ears revolving like an out-of-control radar station

Somewhere a radio plays
& a voice gabbles something about moonshine
& binge drinking & little green men out of Upminister
who are SERIOUSLY NO SERIOUSLY GONNA F--- YOU UP MAN

Later there will be music & lights & long legged
lovelies will strut their funky stuff across the walls
while a siren sounds in the street below
& the woodentops come calling
cudgels primed for some ******* ultraviolence
 Nov 2011 Der Ganzumsonst
Maci M
Magic Marker Mistakes.
Hop-Scotch Hurts.
Tick-Tack-Toe Troubles.

In the world of the shrewd there was the land of innocence.

Candy Heart Cares.
Playhouse Problems.
Silly String Scars

But the young grow and the innocence dies.
What we had was just a chalk outline of love that washed away with the rain.
The shadows are dark,
A contrast to the moon's cold light.
What secrets hide within the darker darks
That go deeper than our sight?

The smell of the fallen leaves
And the fires that keep us from the cold;
The smell of wood smoke in the air
That  make us think of things of old.

What did they do in those times that went before?
What songs did they sing?
What tales did they tell
Back in those times of yore?

Do the skies of evening that come so soon
Make you wonder and ponder
Of times gone by and the songs sung in an ancient tune?
Do they make you think of  ancient rhymes
Does the smell of wood smoke bring up dreams
Of elder, ancient times?

The moon with her light
Makes the shadows seem to hold
Ancient mysteries in the night,
In the moonlight so cold.
Copyright 2010, William Michael Winegar
She plays softly by the moonlight
In mournful solitude surrounded by mist
With the moon listening to the violin's song.
The notes caress the stars at night
As the violin sings with her tenderness.
The night carries the music along.

She comes alone at night to sit by the lake
And pour her heart into the violin's strings.
The violin's voice haunts the nighttime air.
She plays a song of longing that makes her heart break.
Her spirit weeps as her violin sings,
While into the night rises a song of despair.

The moon and the stars lend their ears
As the solitary maiden comes to play
And the mournful notes take flight.
They listen until the sun's greeting nears
And the tune finishes with the birth of the day,
But will be started anew when her violin sings at night.
Copyright 2011, William Michael Winegar
I have lived on our capital's streets,
And spent the days begging at everyone's feet.
They won't help you up when you're down and out,
The only way back is to scream and to shout,
And hope that your pleas will fall on the right ears,
And that someone will see through the dirt to your tears.
During this time I learnt a lot,
About the people we are,The haves and have nots.
How some of them care and some of them don't.
The way some people help and some people just won't.
Sometimes you are angry and so full of hate,
That you think the world owes you it all on a plate.
But other times when you are mellow and calm,
You realise that people don't mean you any harm.
Some people won't look you straight in the eye,
Because if they did it would make them cry.
They would see the sorrow that's in your face,
And wonder what's wrong with the human race.
Like Christmas lights on the lawn in May
We don't belong to each other.
No, not anymore.
I stopped keeping score.

I think your hat is in my sock drawer.

We lit too many candles,
filled too many balloons
before the recorder started
we were singing all the tunes
and I stayed a little later
and you drove too fast for me
now I'm staring at the wreckage
and you're looking for your keys.


I've burned everything we had
And I can see for miles.
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