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 Jan 2013 Storm
Tim Knight
What did you do to your hair?

It is not fashion or regarded as a
good sight, for sightseers whom fight
for the best sight to see.

Nor is it complementary to your main meal face,
no condiment would ever accompany you,
let alone a boy in a start of the month, moon-a-new,
relationship-race.

It is not natural, nor be it an attempt to
blend into your surroundings at large,
as a red and blue fringe
will never be camouflage.

So, what did you do to your hair?
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
So you've dared your girlfriend to write you a poem
Detailing why she loves you,
So what shall she write?
Perhaps that she imagines your kiss will be ambrosia to her,
And that she so easily trusts, and talks to you.
But the point of this poem is why she is in love with you
And so I think she'd say this;
I love you because you're so crazy, and different, and that's so right for you
I love you because you're so kind and sweet to me and other people
I love you because you've got awesome taste, in music and movies and the arts
You're a poet, artist, genius and I love you for it
I love you because you challenge me, and you appreciate intellect
I love you because you don't act excessively proud of what you've done, even though it's really great
I love you because you're quiet, unlike what I am most of the time
My list could go on for pages if I wanted, I've got so many reasons to love you
I love the way your hair covers your eyes
And when it gets ruffled up it's so cute, and reminds me of a flustered bird's feathers
I love how you use words and graphite to create beautiful art and gorgeous depictions
I love you, and pretty much everything about you
And you've got this sort of air, an aura one might say, about you
One that I can only describe as irresistable and curious, curious in both senses of the word
I love how you don't put me down, and are actually so supportive of me
I love how you comfort and understand me so quickly
I love you for talking me out of all sorts of depression, cutting, anorexic tendencies, and still loving me despite my craziness
I really truly thank you for that
You're an incredibly fantastic best friend and boyfriend,
I'm still so amazed at how I got lucky enough to get you, and that you feel the same
The only thing I don't love about you in this moment is that you aren't here
Because I miss you more than life right now
And I love you so much
My love dared me to write him a poem, and so this is the result
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
Lonely god
Sailing in your blue ship
Come and take a rest
Put your feet up for a moment
Grab some tea, and a banana
Then of course, dash away from this peace
Back into your wild exhilarating fray
Lonely man
Why all the adrenaline?
I think you fight and adventure thus
To escape your loneliness and sadness
The adrenaline rush just exists to distract
I think you search and wander
To gain vengeance on wicked evildoers
Because they stole your family and
Wrenched your hearts apart
But now picking up the fallen pieces
Pasting them back together
I think they gave you a motive, a purpose
And some extra strength
Your eyes burn with a fire
Irresistable to all
And fatal to some
But usually just a playful, longing spark
Only wanting the best for those you love
And trying your darndest
As you sail with no direction
But the ebb and flow of the tide
On the ocean of pain and trouble
 Jan 2013 Storm
Byongho Lee
I have a great story to tell

It all starts with a boy, young and bright
His family was poor, with three other mouths to feed
He never stopped dreaming, and writing, and reading
Until he found himself the words to plant a Dream Seed

Now what is a Dream Seed you ask?

It is conjured from our deepest desires
Our greatest thoughts, our greatest belief
But like a plant, a Dream Seed can wither
From our greatest pain, our greatest grief

Now back to the story

His Seed contained one single dream
To become famous and to be well known
He left that night, a burden to his parents
no more, with only himself roaming alone

He tested challenges of entertainment
Braved through insult and rejection
Why was he never good enough?
Why couldn’t he reach perfection?

A stormy night, he cried to the sky
The rapid winds and frosty rain answered his call
A lone figure brought him inside
And from there, his future was unfold

Read this passage, do it as dramatic as you can

“We never had to do this Emily, we never had to leave”
“I only wanted what I thought was right.”
“Don’t leave, you can’t leave me.”
“Don’t leave me here alone in the night.”

I applaud you, that was superb

He signed within the week and ventured to his dream
The seed blossoming in ways untold
Finally he was famous, finally he was well known
His signature was sliver, and his smile was of gold

Now read this script and get into character

“I am not a creature, I am a man!”
“Why should I take this child? I shall recant!”
“He isn’t mine, throw him in the street!”
“I…I…I-I can’t.”

That wasn’t the line, read the line again

He read it again and perfection was obtained.
But something lurked underneath his satisfied soul
He was changing, was transfiguring
But why? He had reached his goal

Just pretend, don’t worry about the part

He pretended and lied to his heart
It wasn’t just the worry, he was believing
That maybe, just maybe, he had lost
Something through his deceiving

Are you alright? Do you need some water?

He looked everywhere, he knew it was there
He smashed the jar where he kept his seed
He leaped for joy and opened the lid
And cried when he saw the weeds

What does that mean? What weeds?

His dream was now corrupted, his view no longer pure
Could he ever find who he was that day?
When he had one dream and one seed
Where his choice was black or white, not grey?

What happened?

He lived his life, weeping through his parts
Silently, he mourned for his soul
He was not the same, never plant more seeds
His heart too greedy with all the gold

Now I have told you a story, now I must rest
“Excuse me sir, a boy is requesting for you.”
Not now Ari, in the morning perhaps
**“But sir, the boy has to tell you something.”
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do,
while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius.
One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself.
One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed
and easily embarrassing.
One friend is the previous friend's brother,
and crushes on me while never saying enough.
One friend is very intelligent and geeky,
and detests wearing skirts even more than I.
One friend is really in your face and dramatic,
pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him.
One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite.
One friend has hair of constantly changing color;
blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown,
but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice.
One friend has a thousand faux laughs,
but guards his true one from the light.
One friend has a mocking joke for everything,
and you can't help but laugh with her.
One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love
and understanding from a kindred spirit.
One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life.
One friend has a meme for everything,
and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters.
One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice
as much as me and explains everything beautifully.
One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature.
One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect
and hides behind her glasses.
One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs.
One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way,
and wears her square glasses in the best way.
One friend longs for a love that is loyal
and hide s behind his temperment
So... this isn't *quite* as silly as I initially intended... I am posting this before it's completely finished though, so there will be more added later.
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
Why bother with math,
When English is more exciting?
Why do the same old thing,
When English broadens your horizons
Imagination is set free,
Leading to plentiful ideas
That will expand into our future,
Effecting our daily lives.
You say math is the basis of life,
But that is a lie.
What is math without English?
Without ideas, math is nothing.
Numbers go to waste,
Science would never be put to the test,
History would be long forgotten.
English is the basis of life,
Nothing more.
For without ideas,
Where would our world be?
I emailed 'math and numbers' to my friend and this was her first response, the beginning of a brief poetry debate... quite interesting as she doesn't like writing poetry
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
Math is no more a single stagnant
Stationary idea than english is
Why not bother with math and science?
The world revolves around them,
We can not live without them
English was created as was history,
Math and science were merely given names
If the claim is that english alone
Expands horizons, then that is a lie
Science is the obtaining of knowledge and exploration
How can one not expand horizons
And encourage imagination with science?
Ideas and english are not synonomous
Though you may think so
As for history, it need not be writ
Only in english
English is merely one language
And knowledge may be written in pictograms
Or hieroglyphs or symbols
English and ideas are not the same,
Ideas are simply usually recorded
In english.
My response...
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
magik
 Jan 2013 Storm
Lucky Queue
Magic
Force of old earth
And one to be reckoned with
Neither benevolent,
Nor malevolent by nature
The purpose determined by the user

Dark and light,
Good and bad.
Used by the wrong person,
It causes peace and happiness,
Or death and destruction.
A force to be reckoned with indeed.
But also to be used with care.

Yin and yang
And salt and pepper
Balance the decision with great care
Walk the edge of a razor to channel it
And think before every move

Unstable as it is,
Delight is brought.
Tricks of the light, perhaps.
But perhaps not.
An unending fun for those who use it
With great care.
Those who don't...
Consequences shall be suffered.

So when dealing with magic
Keep in mind that
No matter how simple
And innocent it appears,
It is more complex and old
And you are just a channel.
So beware of the path
That you choose to send it down
And remember: have fun
Cowrote with a friend who claims to **** at writing poetry(she really doesn't)
Jan 3 2012

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