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 Oct 2013 spahrkling
Ana Leejay
my mind is a football stadium
filled with sports anchors
hallowing our conversation
in class
the other day

did I say this right?
did you mean your laugh?

i am nothing but a child!
mazed by a fable or
some sort of
fairy book story

i imagine the other day in
class, wanting it to be
all days
all moments
in different aisles of hallways
different shades of walls

i am still a child

picking on my mind
like a sunflower on valentines day
"will he like me"
"will he not"

and you have nothing to do with this
but you are everything to blame

my poems are just passive voices
asking you questions without saying your name
indirectly

it is 10:03 I am
lying between the covers of my bed
pondering when you told me you like music

i am listening to the
same song
over and over
each time,
thinking of you
differently
 Oct 2013 spahrkling
Lucy Tonic
People don’t say hello to me
But goodbye comes easily
I see children playing in the street
But they don’t smile or wave-
I’m alone in my tree
And the highs and lows stream naturally
They come and go but in actuality
It’s impossible to know who you are
When you’re not allowed to be
No one needs to tell me-
I’m alone in my tree
 Oct 2013 spahrkling
Lucy Tonic
In a sense,
Some of us haven’t lost our innocence
Despite mistakes and age
Some of us still want to play
But by our own rules
Not the government’s or schools
Who want to exorcise our right
To exercise our freedoms
When we want the right to declare
Responsibility as sin
Instead of toiling in exchange for trouble
While the capital letters keep snooping and swooping in
We blow bubbles and dive in the mud
They can’t imagine our life story
Cause they never lived it
Someone must protect our soaring souls and wild hearts

In a sense,
Some of us have lost our innocence
But despite mistakes and age
Some of us still want to play
 Oct 2013 spahrkling
Emmalee Jane
i run
and i do not stop.
i run from everything
i am ashamed
of myself.
i have been knocked down
so many times
i become afraid
of heights
just from standing up
for myself.

and so i run.

hurtling around corners
and slamming into walls
my body breaking
and soon
i will have to stop.
stop this madness
stop the constant beat of my heart
pounding in my chest
trying to break out
like a prisoner in jail
for a life sentence.
i do not think anymore
i simply push myself
harder
farther
faster.

i started running
so long ago
i barely remember why.
i ran from people
people who hurt me
i couldn’t stop them
so i ran.
i ran from people
people who loved me
because i didn’t believe myself
deserving of their love.
i ran from the world
the world that shattered mine.
the world that took my heart
and dropped it onto the rocks
to be pounded into fragments
by the persistent waves
that plagued the cliffs.

they told me i could stop
wait up
catch my breath.
but what they don’t know is
every time i stop,
my past catches me
i curl into a ball
sobs rack my body
and life stabs me in the gut.
so i do not stop.

i am terrified
terrified of what memories slowing may bring
bubbling to the surface
crawling along the floor
crouching in dark corners
waiting to pounce.

perhaps one day
i will be able to stop running
someday,
a person might come along
who can grab my arms
sit me down
and tell me,
“stop. i love you.
you do not need to run.”

i run
and i do not stop.
but maybe,
that could change.
Something draws you in and you reach out a hand.
Don’t know why, it just happens that way sometimes.
You make a statement and get a response. The smiling kind.
So goes the give and take of acquaintance but there is more.
Sometimes there is a special connection, something you see,
Something the other person sees, feels that builds a friendship.
Laughter is easy, fun. You are you and they are they.
You see some of what indicates so much more.

They see enough to want to learn more, share more, listen more, tell more.
Friendship is a smooth and gliding road; times of great speed and times of coasting pleasure.
We like the ride as we pedal along taking in the warm sunshine,
Delighting in unexpected moments of fun.
Sometimes there are bumps in the road and we even fall over a cliff but there is that hand; that friend’s hand.
The hand that belongs to the person who understands, who cares and tries hard to make us reach up and grab hold.
That friend is a special friend. One who doesn’t give up.  
Sometimes we don’t see our friend a lot or sometimes they are a new friend but a true friend nonetheless.
And sometimes they are a friend we have never actually met but we are close in spite of that.

I am guilty of sometimes not making sure my friends know I value them.
We all let the moments slip by. We have busy lives and we don’t always think.
We don’t always think of how much our friends give us and that to keep the bond strong we have to give back too and make sure they know how special they are to us.
My friends are like my family only better. I didn’t get to pick my family but I picked my friends or they picked me and I am so glad they did.
Whether meeting by accident or by design we have been thrown together and I am so glad we have been.

Way back when, my Grade 1 teacher wrote in my autograph book;
“Make new friends
but keep the old.
One is silver,
The other gold.”
 Oct 2013 spahrkling
John
From the dimples in her cheeks
The way her lips move when she speaks
And the sway of her hips
The gentle security of her lips
Everyone's love is the love of all loves
Everyone's story is Romeo & Juliet

The way he looks when he's just woken up
Even if he knows, he still asks "What's up?"
The wrinkles in his forehead when he laughs
The calmness that takes over even after a crash
Everyone's love is the love of all loves
Everyone's story is Romeo & Juliet

The way time seems to just come and pass
Neverending and flowing through the water like bass
How the troubles seem to come to an end
Whenever you're with that one special friend
Everyone's love is the love of all loves
Everyone's story is Romeo & Juliet
KMR
She's eloquent
and wonderful
and  always manages to be just as beautiful at the crack of dawn.
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