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 Oct 2013 heather
Lame Poet
I want to be a substance abuser.

I want the vapidity
of my own words
to evaporate.
I want the void
to rev itself up,
and spin itself into
a voracious tornado.

I want to extinguish
the emptiness
with this epitaph.
I want language
to bend to my will,
leaning and looming
as an entity of entirety.

If I should be so lucky,
I hope to die
of an overdose.


-LP
 Oct 2013 heather
Morgan
we spend each season,
yearning for the next
jumping head first
into salt water
wishing it were leafs,
or kicking up leafs,
wishing it were snow

we just never stop
wishing long enough
to feel ourselves grow

then one day we wake up
to a shy sun, not yet fully risen
and the windows are closed,
and the blinds are drawn,
and for one half of a second
we look in the mirror
and we have no sense of time,
no sense of season...
we're just so much older
older than we remember
and we don't know
how or when it happened
 Oct 2013 heather
Universal Thrum
The universe provides

                opportunities

Like streets for the taking

alleyways to satiate the curiosity of

        what could be

Giving a ride to the stranger

to be told         Put in on black

with fifty dollars in your hand

Seeing The Best of people at 5 a.m.

(in those moments between time where those few wake)

Early or late

Love is the currency

Take a chance on the people

Hey Brother, can I get a ride?

    Where you going?
Spoken Word Jam
 Oct 2013 heather
Morgan
we held hands through
the halls of a concrete
elementary school;
the new shoes
our moms bought
us at the "back to
school" sales at the end
of a short summer, clanked
and screeched and
skited across the freshly
mopped floors

we laughed at recess and played
too much dress up
my best friend,
he hung from monkey bars
and smiled at the ground
and I still remember the first
time he asked to play
hide and seek
with a glaring look in his
big blue eyes

we shared head phones
in squishy army green
seats on a warm yellow bus
on the way to middle school,
and rested our
heads on each other's
shoulders at lunch,
laughing hard about
the summer,
complaining about the heat

my best friend,
he hung upside down
at the edge of my bed after
class was finally over
and he said "I think I
liked that other place
a little better"

we passed bottles
around basements
and blew kisses in gym class
we sped down noble rd
in our brand new
used cars on the way
to high school
screaming songs about everyone
we'd lost and all the ****
we wished we hadn't found

my best friend,
he hung old pictures
in his locker and he watched
the days as he fell behind them

we graduated
with slumped shoulders
and shadows under our eyes,
piercing smiles
& enough memories
to last a lifetime

we went off to college
and got ****** noses
from blowing lines
and telling lies

my best friend
he hung from
an extension cord
in the bedroom closet
of his ninth story
apartment

I still remember the first
time he asked to play
hide and seek
with a glaring look in his
big blue eyes

looks like we can
all use to be found
this time around
 Oct 2013 heather
Raj Arumugam
I am one of those
who do watches
and people love to watch me -
they watch, but ironically,
they call me Watch Man

Well, for a start, I can eat watches
At a recent show
I ate 4 watches in 6 slow hours -
it was time-consuming

My wrists stretch on the touch of
watch bracelets
and so they made me wear many to see
how many I could wear on each wrist
20 on either wrist is what my stretch could take –
yeah, you could say,
I just had too much time on my hands
Last on show they made me wear a belt of watches
which was a pretty waist of time,
if you know what I mean

Look I’ve applied
to join DC Comics
Me as Watch Man
along with the likes of Iron Man, the Hulk
and Spider Man and such characters nondescript
But I’ve been turned down
Just not your time yet, I’ve been told

Well, so I content myself meantime
as Watch Man at Freak Shows
Doing the Time
before my Big Time
When there are enough time-savvy people
Who can recognise the genius
of those who do watches
...poem based on jokes I found online....I'm moving house now and may not have internet connection for a while...I've been so time-poor, I have not been able to acknowledge your responses to my previous poem and to visit your pages...my apologies....will do so after I return in the next couple of weeks....meanwhile, I offer the poem above for your amusement and reflection...
 Oct 2013 heather
Circa 1994
I've been told I'm cynical
by  a hippie with dreadlocks.
No, I don't want to try molly with you.

I've been told that cuddling is better in the cold
by a boy with an enviable smile, wearing a striped sweater.
Let's make a book of comfortable sleeping positions for couples.
With the bed as the office, and the sheets for a desk.

I've been told that I'm too old for hugs
by the contributor of half my genes.
I love you too.

People tell me things
and usually I don't listen.
But sometimes I do.
 Oct 2013 heather
Hysam Elkalban
The brim of the lip drips
Ecstasy, misery, lust

The brim of the lip drips
Satisfaction is a must

The brim of the lip drips
Re-stating its birthmark on skin

The brim of the lip drips
Just like a new born baby's sins
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