I imagine the witty hooks
of young ones in love.

He tells her, "aren't you a strawberry
looking like a cherry on top!"

"We're in this jam together,
light of my eye my Sunjam."

And how with a loaf of words,
he'd end with,

"I'll let nothing get in between us;
but be between two slices of bread."

                                              Turning cheeks red and sweet.

Your gender roles
don't go very well
with my anxiety jam

Love is Coco Jam
And I offer it to you,
My brown faced darling,
The Warm days it pursues
I split the bread in half
Like we split the rest of days
In folders, files of living ails
And laughter for us two

Love is Coco Jam
For I'll spread it side to side
As equal measures did we seek
In Geometries of mind
You dip yours in your coffee
Like we dip our hungry Souls
Toward each day's living basket
That we carry in a stride

in the time that you see this i will be asleep in the bed all ******* in my thoughts like you said that i would and you always have been right that eventually i wouldnt stand in this fight and thats always been true thats always been you and you know what to do to make this all go through so just say those "nice" words to the back of my head sleeping soundly on top of my pillows of dread dreaming that the sounds like my heart would be
dead.

i dont want to hear it anymore i dont want to hear it anymore i dont want to hear it anymore i dont want to hear it anymore
i never wanted to hear it anymore
and thats why i blast the music until my ears bleed
to drown out the noises you keep sending raging after me
and i want to be free
see the world
see the free
and be me
but you keep chasing after the ends of my sentences begging to be apart of some world together
like this will last forever and that you have to fit yourself inside before the page runs out of lines to include us both in the same half a centimetre space
connected with no room to move
no room to breathe
no room to be free me or just simply be

so by the time that you see this hopefully i will be asleep and you will be asleep and you wont come to tell me your "nice" words again and wake me up to your screaming and we could all just go to sleep once without a fight of whos right and how youre right and new and true and how my blue is too much to live and breathe and
bloom.

Success!
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

We need our children to keep us humble
between toast and marmalade;

there is no time for a ticker-tape parade
before bed, no award, no bright statuette

to be delivered for mending skinned knees,
no wild bursts of approval for shoveling snow.

A kiss is the only approval they show;
to leave us—the first great success they achieve.

I wrote this poem after fixing my son Jeremy some toast and getting a kiss in return. Keywords/Tags: children, success, parents, toast, jam, marmalade, skinned, knees, kiss, approval

A glass of milk
in the dorm
with you
tastes like being nine
at the seaside
in my aunt's house
after a long 7 pm sea swim
in the yard
making waffles,
one with chocolate
second one with uncle's peach jam
third one with cherry jam
topped off with a glass of milk
I had to hold with both of my small palms.
A glass of milk
with you
tastes like nostalgia.

How can your soul
roam across this world

while it holds no care?

Drinks jam out of its jars
And sleeps in a bus shelter

Behind the toothless grin

and the dreams of the Boulevard

Your cherry coloured lips used to
bring the coral blush on my cheeks.
But now it boils my crimson within,
leaving my face all scarlet with rage.

You were the apple of my eye,
as precious as ruby to me.
But now, wine and water seem the same,
and jam never tastes as sweet.