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 Jul 2015 August
Nick Moore
There's guardians at the edge of
waking sleep

Withholding information
as dawn doth creep

I don't know what
they are withholding?
but it must be mighty
deep.
 Jul 2015 August
an uncommon aura
Luminescent is the way.
Where there were voices
that spoke in riddles.
Where there were mountains
who watched your cold shoulder.
Where there was life
and death was innate,
but patient.

You used to love the way she drove
you into the ground.
None the wiser to the inadequacy  
of sleeping through.
She spoke to you,
her breath on your neck.
How many sheep must you count,
before the Shepard loses,
Loses patience.

Where there are voices,
There is spit,
Where there is life,
There are lungs.
Where you are,
is never the culmination,
You can never seek ******.
For the moment you reach,
and finally take hold,
Whats to come will be for naught.

She is your goddess,
Let the ashes of dream
guide anew the light.
Take her block by block,
Or fly like humans can,
watch her whole, watch her becoming.

Burning shall be your dreams of fire.
Soot can be cleaned.
But a rag to reveal
That your city stands tall,
The peak grew and the skyline
represents the wind’s metaphoric lust.
She holds forever your patience,
why not, if only for laughs,
see if the wait is worth it.


 Jul 2015 August
Ian Cairns
White man got degrees
White man studies rap albums on weekends
White man still dreams on the hardwood
White man Steph Curry and Larry Bird in his head
White man be both- no problem
White man been hurt before
White man wears braces on both ankles
White man pick a new pair up whenever
White man down each aisle twice
White man throws the receipts away every time

White man left home this one time
White man always trying to help
White man night off whenever he wants
White man swears and means it
White man perpetual grin
White man still here
White man gets louder and swears no one hears him
White man silence still got a few words in it
White man says sorry sometimes, but
White man forgives himself always

White man ten ten year plans
White man why not more?
White man white lies
White man be a boy when he wants
White man lies face down when he chooses
White man love guns- need none though
He brings bigger weapons every time he leaves the house
This poem is after a poem done by Jon Sands, who followed similar patterns from Angel Nafis and Terrance Hayes.

Here is a link to Jon/Angel's version-- https://youtu.be/5lZ-GpHOhEk
 Jul 2015 August
Sara Teasdale
My heart is a garden tired with autumn,
Heaped with bending asters and dahlias heavy and dark,
In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,
The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;

Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,
And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain —
The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten —
After the stillness, will spring come again?
 Jul 2015 August
Francie Lynch
If you'll allow me,
I'll be the booming voice,
Or the low murmur,
You stiffled,
Long ago,
In your head.
But I won't allow you
To muzzle me.
 Jul 2015 August
Vernon Waring
Drew was an artist who knew
That self-portraits were easy to do
She posed nearer and nearer
To her studio mirror
And it was there where Drew drew Drew
 Dec 2014 August
Hayleigh
In the heartbeat she gave me,
would i give all to thee
once more.
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