JMack: Favorites

Mar 2014 JMack

E. E. Cummings

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

Nov 2013 JMack

Whispers Through Static

Nov 2013 JMack

Jaymisun Kearney

Whispers Through Static

. . .

Late at night
In what some might call the witching hour
Close your eyes
Let waters fall lightly on your neck
Under heat
May you feel
What screams you think are screamed dissipate
Feel, only
Hear no words
No words will trespass the line
Separating you and I
So two hands will have to do
Phantoms of time lost touch you
Do they remind you

Of the one, most haunting?
No ill will, no poison
Deletes love
Faith, I ask of you -- I manage whispers
Through static
Open your eyes

Tomorrow
While running around your day to day
May you find
The forever in love gone that's saved
As your fear
Palpitates
Warm memories flood through Winter's grave
Breaking peace
Into your war
Close faithfully forlorn eyes
Their dark delivers our tide
To our hidden coast again
Mute words from the black ocean
Written in the sand

Of the one, most haunting?
No ill will, no poison
Deletes love
Faith, I ask of you -- I manage whispers
Through static
Open your eyes

Can you
Keep the void connected and still move?

. . .

Nov 2013 JMack

Nonexistent

Nov 2013 JMack

Ava Cook

Nonexistent

Every night she would lie in bed and finger the stars
Pressing her rough cherry lips to the moon.
Sometimes it seemed as though
Everything was attacking her.
The expectations of the world pressed down
With coarse intolerant hands.
But nights,
Nights seemed different.
Her eyes would bathe in the sadness of the moon
And her heart wouldn't be attacked.
Sometimes
If she urged her mind into the sublime
She could feel small.
Just as she had always dreamed.

— The End —