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 Feb 2013 oh me oh my
Julia
Bravery is the disease
that leads men into
their graves.
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
 Jan 2013 oh me oh my
Jae Elle
someone will be tired
one before the
other
that's just the way
it is

I wait for impatience
in my lighthouse of uncertainty
& doubt is diverted
through sunlight-kissed waves
nearly the precise hue
of his eyes

someone will be tired

how could you love anyone
with such a hidden
temper?
the kind who stalks herself
through the night
never fully satisfied with
destination or
decision

she wakes, inadequate
& improperly
rested
the day is a haze of
unpaid bills
empty cabinets
& her rebellious toddler

don't be her

don't be tired

don't say a word

the imaginary harbor of hurt
shall subside with the
rush of
tomorrow's tide

& she'll still wonder when he'll tire
remember darling,
that you will never
be able to taste the salt of the sea
or smell the flowers in the garden
or feel the worn pages of the books
or hold the hand of the one you love
when you are busy hiding under the blankets
-
There once was a boy who felt hollow
The hole inside him grew and swallowed
He filled it with flowers
For hours and hours
But still, deep in pain he would wallow

There once was a boy who felt empty
His troubles he thought no one else'd see
Locked away he'd cry
Til the day that he died
And never saw, next to him there, me

There once was a boy who felt alone
He wore himself right down to the bone
I did all I could
Loved him more than I should
If only, if only he'd known
© 2013 Jene'e Patitucci
I'm allergic to
the flowers that grow
in your brain
© Daniel Magner 2013
 Jan 2013 oh me oh my
Anne M
I was your antithesis
when your fragrant flagrance was
brash.
.












                                                   ­                                                     run








­





                       quietly















                                          ­                                       feet













                                            thr­ough











                                                 ­                                                                 ­                     wind















                                      o'er cheeks













                                             ­                                               o'er earth












                                    green stuff cloven


















                                        ­                                                                 ­         run













                                   mutely














                                            ­                                       crushing













                                         hulking silence

















                                        ­                                                           run













                                                ­      feet













                                         ­                                                       leaving


­













                                                   ­   the













                                             ­                                                            air



















                                        to­ breathless hours shorn





























                              ­                                                                 ­                to fetless hours worn


















                                 by treading sunlight







































                 ­                                                                 ­                        in loose warmth


































                        ­       of muscles extremely






































                 ­                                                                 ­      run
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