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 Dec 2013 sara
spysgrandson
thirty years
since Mark gunned you down
thirty years, passed
like a long sleepless night
that ends with taunting morning light
no brilliant sunrise grandly pronouncing
a glorious new dawn of man
although that would have been your plan
with your entreaties to give peace a chance
and imagine, imagine, imagine

now I kneel in this rain gray park
like a reject from some holy ark
a pilgrim in doleful disappointed pose
after seeing what your earthly brothers chose
was not to imagine a world of peace and love
but to wear reality like a cast iron glove
making mockery of your martyred chants
proceeding like a billion scurrying ants
deaf to your childlike pleas

across the soaked soil where your ashes lay
yesterday and today…and tomorrow
I feel the soggy sorrow
that you would have felt
if you could still see
all the rage of humanity
written on the 30th anniversary of the ****** of John Lennon--today makes 33 years since Mark Chapman murdered John
 Dec 2013 sara
spysgrandson
say my name, say my name!  

you are…

you’re ******* right I am
  
I am the chemo coursing
through your blood  
pumping you full of hope  
deluding you with life’s beguiling bargain  
that pain and suffering will allow you to live
forever, if you ask nicely, and
the background music is right
  
I am the one who walks
away from the inferno  
while other souls sizzle  
their biographies written in flames
flicked to life by my match  

I am the nobody in the room
when you die alone, without the drip of morphine
your terrified eyes searching the stillness  
for a childhood vision,
hoping it will be a summer song
rather than winter’s dead bone

I am all you dreaded
all you dreamed, you
have always known me  
and followed my tracks
refusing to see me
though I was only

you
Walter White was, as most of you know, the protagonist in the series "Breaking Bad". One may have to know the story line, beginning to end, to comprehend this moody stream of consciousness work
 Dec 2013 sara
Ben
I...
     think...
                 I...
                      like...
                              
crazily chasing concocted crushes
however hasty high hopes
earnestly entangled erstwhile enthusiasm
left languishing limp lethargic
suddenly soundless stupidly selfish
every emotion enviously expectant
an abject apology absent

purposeful pleasure purportedly posed
unearthed unhealthy ungainly uncertainties
devouring devotion disgracing dogma
an accident awaiting arrival
 Nov 2013 sara
Kathy Z
Urban Forest
 Nov 2013 sara
Kathy Z
A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart
Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages
slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog,
while a father is hunched over
in the cold den, racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine.
And a child, barely 4
playing with stuffed animals on the couch
a victim of Tay Sach

A car, and a windowpane, that have both seen too much,
ragged advertisements fluttering in the wind,
advertising a movie coming out yesterday,
A burger shop ad that had already long closed,
and deals long gone.
The downtown urban forest, turned into a junkyard
full of scraps of rusted silver and infected bronze.

A bystander who can do nothing but laugh
as a boy's nose gets crushed in,
a ****** lip,
A swollen, purple eye
A boy of 18
who is still waiting for her somewhere
to see her colored smile
and eyes of glass
bitter and emotionless, glazed over with sterling silver,
who has a family, siblings,
who is now turned into nothing but a ragged playtoy for the sick, sick entertainment of others

A broken air conditioner that can do nothing but clack clack clack over and over again, metal blades spinning vainly for nothing,
while a broken family is screaming in the other room,
and a child is crying, hands to his face, covering his eyes
as a father hits his wife, knocks her against the sharp, tiled kitchen counter,
and the screaming intensifies, accompied by the hurtful insults that are thrown at each other-by the father and the teen.
and still the air conditioner goes on and on
oblivious to nothing.

A world that is so breathtaking and cruel at the same time
where little, insignificant families are torn apart without a second thought,
where the 'strong' prey on the 'weak'
Where the most beautiful sprawling cities turn into rejected second handers just because of a rumor
And,
A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart
Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages, ages ago
full of tears and stiches  
slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, searching for the most effective medicine, eyes flickering in worry
while a father is hunched over
in the cold den because
he doesn't want to risk spreading his sickness to anyone else
racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine.
Working hard to support his family because the economy is going down again
And a child, barely 4
playing with stuffed animals on the couch
a victim of Tay Sach,
dead at 6.
 Nov 2013 sara
Amal Chambers
Why does death exist?
It makes humans sad
It makes creatures sad
The world itself will sometimes mourn
It creates delusion in weaker creatures
Makes them believe that they can stop it
Or that it's alright to take anothers life
Or it makes others fall into nightmares
In which they shall not wake up
But death exists because there is life
Death exists to teach us how to live
To cherish memories
To let us know that no one is immortal
To teach that there is no eternal happiness
Death reminds us to cherish
What we have
To my grandfather who passed away before I got to know him.
 Nov 2013 sara
spysgrandson
I murdered
the last mosquito of the year    
a tiny one at that  
what was he doing drifting
in the soft light of this Sunday  
so long after the first freeze?  
he must have been a hardy soul
though no match for my thunderous clap  
I would have felt better  
had there been blood
on my hands
 Nov 2013 sara
Olga Valerevna
We spend all our time being jealous
For things that are not really ours
We beg for another perspective
To guide us without leaving scars
But we are the slaves and the martyrs
The ones who will never obtain
A simple oblivion ending
The heightening level of pain
And this be our chosen confession
The one we have kept on our tongues
"I want to be everyone else's"
*"I want to collapse my own lungs"
Breathe in deep, you're still here.
 Nov 2013 sara
Ben
the ice flow north wind
the pristine moon reflected
silent white sharp stark
 Nov 2013 sara
Ben
coy verbal foreplay
tastefully twisting two tongues
risque rhythm ...                          breathe
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