nox May 14

i found god in you
i found salvation in your smile
i surrendered into your embrace
your words and love are my miracle

i have worshipped your hands
found my religion at the sound of your voice
fought temptation when you looked at me

my god, my god
i am going to hell
my god, my god
you will be my undoing

Monika May 13

As it fell out on a long summer's day,
  Two lovers they sat on a hill;
They sat together that long summer's day,
  And could not talk their fill.

"I see no harm by you, Margarèt,
  And you see none by mee;
Before to-morrow at eight o' the clock
  A rich wedding you shall see."

Fair Margaret sat in her bower-windòw,
  Combing her yellow hair;
There she spyed sweet William and his bride,
  As they were a riding near.

Then down she layd her ivory combe,
  And braided her hair in twain:
She went alive out of her bower,
  But ne'er came alive in't again.

When day was gone, and night was come,
  And all men fast asleep,
Then came the spirit of Fair Marg'ret,
  And stood at William's feet.

"Are you awake, sweet William?" shee said,
  "Or, sweet William, are you asleep?
God give you joy of your gay bride-bed,
  And me of my winding sheet."

When day was come, and night was gone,
  And all men wak'd from sleep,
Sweet William to his lady sayd,
  "My dear, I have cause to weep.

"I dreamt a dream, my dear ladyè,
  Such dreames are never good:
I dreamt my bower was full of red 'wine,'
  And my bride-bed full of blood."

"Such dreams, such dreams, my honoured sir,
  They never do prove good;
To dream thy bower was full of red 'wine,'
  And thy bride-bed full of blood."

He called up his merry men all,
  By one, by two, and by three;
Saying, "I'll away to fair Marg'ret's bower,
  By the leave of my ladiè."

And when he came to fair Marg'ret's bower,
  He knocked at the ring;
And who so ready as her seven brethrèn
  To let sweet William in.

Then he turned up the covering-sheet;
  "Pray let me see the dead;
Methinks she looks all pale and wan.
  She hath lost her cherry red.

"I'll do more for thee, Margarèt,
  Than any of thy kin:
For I will kiss thy pale wan lips,
  Though a smile I cannot win."

With that bespake the seven brethrèn,
  Making most piteous mone,
"You may go kiss your jolly brown bride,
  And let our sister alone."

"If I do kiss my jolly brown bride,
  I do but what is right;
I ne'er made a vow to yonder poor corpse,
  By day, nor yet by night.

"Deal on, deal on, my merry men all,
  Deal on your cake and your wine:
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day,
  Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine."

Fair Margaret dyed to-day, to-day,
  Sweet William dyed the morrow:
Fair Margaret dyed for pure true love,
  Sweet William dyed for sorrow.

Margaret was buryed in the lower chancèl,
  And William in the higher:
Out of her brest there sprang a rose,
  And out of his a briar.

They grew till they grew unto the church top,
  And then they could grow no higher;
And there they tyed in a true lover's knot,
  Which made all the people admire.

Then came the clerk of the parish,
  As you the truth shall hear,
And by misfortune cut them down,
  Or they had now been there.

This is one of the best poem I´ve ever had the opportunity to read... NOT MINE!
Shae Nicole May 12

In what realm of possibility
Can I find solace in my actions?
None that I can see,
Though regret is not an option
For life is too sweet to allow matters
With quick resolution
To find refuge in the crevices of my thoughts.

Alas, I feel an immense guilt
Not in the summation of what was done
But in my rampant desire to experience
It all again. The adrenaline
Of the moment like a long lost drug
My hands and feet were tingling to feel.
The fear in saying no, but
The passion in saying yes anyways.
His hands resting in the small of my back
Creeping up to my shoulders, crossing
The threshold of my vulnerability
And touching the parts of my heart with
Real emotions, all lust aside.

He has a beautiful mind and
We interact in a beautiful way,
But one accompanied by an insurmountable
Amount of guilt.
Catholic guilt, he calls it
The way he feels thinking about me.
Does he think about my mind as I his?
Does he long for a body I cannot give?
Perhaps the same applies- the adrenaline
Too much for anyone to resist.
Perhaps the drinks gave him courage
Just as they caused me to feel a stronger pull
In the scent of alcohol on his breath.
Either way, a love forbidden is a love lost
When one is too tied by guilt and commitment
To pursue the other-
such is for the best.

Don't blame the snake
That's the easy way out
Don't blame the woman either

Would you rather be trapped in a garden
Where ignorance is bliss
Yet even in the day you're in the dark

Good little Catholic girl.
Say your prayers,
Love your neighbours.

But not that one.

Ignore the luscious fruit.
The slithering whispers in your ear.
The juice, inches from your lips.

The temptation.

Eyes that entrance you.
Little touches.
Hidden blushes.

Keep it secret.

No one can know
That he isn't a
Good little Catholic boy.

Your curves speak to me in ways I can't ignore,
Your eyes tempt me so bad it's hard to look the other way,
Your mouth seduces me,
Whenever you open it...
All I can think of is closing it,
Because I lust for a kiss.

Your beauty is relentless, you bring me to my knees...
Oh, I hail to the almighty queen.

kb Mar 26


they say you give flowers on a whim.

on a regular day, i would message you
pictures of flowers i’d want
to come from your own hands.

but you stand on a platform.
i sit still on a chair
waiting for your orders.

you are different from a regular tuesday.
your usual pink button downs,
they’re now just a pink shirt.
you look just like us.

stepping out from the door after i called you,
the sun suddenly shone brighter.
it illuminated your distressed jeans,
glaring glasses,
flawed face,
awkward posture.

you do not greet me with a pick-up line;
but i can’t help but smile.

oh, how easy is it to get you to come?
how easy can i have you?


secrets can be made in public.

we’d talk for a few more minutes,
sitting down on the steps.
we refuse to call it school.
we are immoral.

until you complain about the heat
creeping up your skin
the brighter sun feeling you. you hate it.

i’d take the blame if it was for the sun
only to make you stay.

your bag now hangs on your right shoulder.
you look back at me to see if i follow.

i grab your wrist,
breaking every rule there is.
you continue to walk,
not minding what’s pulling you back.

when we get to the emergency stairwell,
your right hand grasps the handrail,
and my hands are still on your left wrist.
i pull harder now.

you put more force to walking up.
my hands slip from your wrist to your hand.
i am taken aback, but
i hold it,
it’s not supposed to be like this.

but if you give flowers like this,
it is what it is.

written for a confessional collection of poems for our literature classes.
Nora Mar 23

Darling, dearest,
Come out of the dark,
And into my heart
The sun has set,
The crowds are gone,
No longer I ought to pretend
That you’re only just a friend

Brent Kincaid Mar 18

I got off the bus
At Eighteenth and Vine
Everything in the window
I wanted to be mine
Beautiful shirts there,
Suits, shoes and hats.
But I couldn’t buy them
No, I couldn’t do that.

I was the wrong color
For Matlaw’s, He said.
That place was for coloreds
And rich pimps instead
Not a tow-headed white boy
What hasn’t got much sense.
I went there that one time
And, I haven’t been since.

But, oh I wanted that suit,
With cranberry hat and shoes.
Even though I had no place
To ever wear it, I knew.
But, I love that store there
On eighteenth and Vine
Even though I knew nothing
In that store could be mine.

The bus went by there
Every day I passed it by.
To this day, I grieve
And never understood why
A Caucasian market
Like I represented
Might go there inside there
And be soundly resented.

It wasn’t a good thing
It’s just how it was then
Before the civil rights thing
Would finally begin.
Yes, I never knew colors
They way others did.
But, what did I know?
I was just a young kid.

But, oh I wanted that suit,
With cranberry hat and shoes.
Even though I had no place
To ever wear it, I knew.
But, I love that store there
On eighteenth and Vine
Even though I knew nothing
In that store could be mine.

Pink Queen Mar 5

Tell me, if you please,
a lie
Although the truth is forbidden,
Anyone noticing what you and I do secretly.

Just one second is enough,
To love you
And dream with you
All the life.

In my life only you metter,
With a smile you fill my world
of light;
I want to love you
And just love you.

You and I also are looking for the forbidden,
You give her your heart,
But you know very well that I am the only
Who owns your skin.

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