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 Feb 2013 John
Man Lee
How to Love
 Feb 2013 John
Man Lee
There were no sounds
When I walked.
There was no breath
In the cold air.
There was no moon,
Just the light
Of a phone
And a cigarette half done.
With the revelation
Of my solitude:
Stinging, soothing;
And in an attempt
To find the noise
That in silence
Left a while ago,
I sang a song,
The only one I knew.

“I have loved
And I have died.
And they’re the same
The pride, the shame.
I have prayed
And I have laid
In the biblical sense
As my penitence.
But no man has ever
Told me more clever
Jokes or tales
Over cold beer and ale,
As my papa, the Lord
Of my room and board.
He gave me a home
For only me to know
With a bed to love in,
With a head in the oven.
So mama lay me down
Take off this old crown
No more guesses
No more addresses
Return to sender
This old fender
Oh mama, help me!
Tell Atticus to shoot me,
For all the ashes and embers
Have made me remember:
I have crawled about
I have clamored to shout
I have begged like a dog
I have prayed to some god
And mama no man has come
To give me some
Lesson on how to love”


There were no voices,
To deliver my choices,
For the cruel night,
Was callous and blithe.
The frost in the air
Cut off my hair
To make me a Samson,
To make me the real son,
As I walked home alone
While no moon shone.
© 2011 M.Lee
 Feb 2013 John
Shomu
In The Corner.
 Feb 2013 John
Shomu
There are things I know.
There are things I have forgotten.
There are things I know I have forgotten.
Happiness, Anger, Contentment, Jealousy;
Keep moving like a train.
OH! the coffee is on the stove.
Trying to live through it all.
 Feb 2013 John
Haley Freedman
Death held me in his arms last night.
Cold fingers stroking my lively and soft flesh as he whispered all the world’s secrets into my ear.
Wolves howled on the hills while doves cooed in the dancing silver gold moonlight.
His sweet breath covered my body as he murmured kisses down my spine,
chilling me to my bones, goose bumps rising on my skin.
He asked me to be his Queen and rule over the dead with him,
wear a crown of gems and stone, my throne made of the ******.
My heart shuddered and grew cold at the thought
and I turned from him, avoiding his endless gaze.
I rose from my bed and ran,
far and away into the fields of another day.
I can never run far enough from him, he hunts me down,
dragging me down to his forbidden depths, his Kingdom.
There I stay, staring into the River Styx eating pomegranate seeds,
dreaming of Life, of warmth,
of tomorrow when I am freed from this cold dead prison.
 Feb 2013 John
Matteo
Looking through my window
and with each tree passed
I think deeper and deeper
to the reasons as...

To why my thoughts often stray
and so often they may
be irrelevant to the conversation
contemplation,
hesitation,
join in formation

I surrender my white flag
and choose not to speak
cause the words i say may not be as affective
as the words and thoughts I think.
Softly whimpering through recurring dreams
thoughts flood his head
its all what it seems
arms of lead
soft murmurs gives way to screams

Deprivation of the purest thing
silent torture on an expressionless face
cynical thoughts worn like a ring
peer into his eyes and see his mind race
all the memories shall forever sting

— The End —