Mr. handsome stranger
He’s coming after
Desperate like a last request
Frantic delusional lunatic
Unhinged fragile losing what’s left
Self serving sadomasochistic
Easy on the eyes but doesn’t quite fit in
Playing it cool in social situations
His intelligent banter he claims as his own
With somewhat smart comebacks he practiced at home

Trying so hard that the sweat beads down
Onto his stressed wrinkled furrowed brow
the stories he skillfully misdirected  
Carefully darting  unwanted questions
Mr. Indiscreet can’t blow his cover
Disarm the girl of his unrealistic dreams
How quite average and normal he can be

Mr. Stalker walks over to the Girl
works up the courage and talks to her
Strikes up a witty conversation
With his movie star smile and education
Using the words that he pre rehearsed
Says all the right things and compliments her
Looking past his rather peculiar behavior
And when politely asked gives up her number

He rings her up the very next day
With a romantic scenic picnic date
Under the shade of a lush green tree
Upon a blanket with wine and cheese
Playing the part of the handsome boyfriend
Gains her full trust and faith in him

Joking in a effort to make her laugh
To put her at ease and follow his plan
Jealous of her ex boyfriends
Knowing their names and full address
And when he drops her off at home
Tracks and follows her every move
Knows all her weekly kept routines
Threatens and blackmails all her friends
Studies everyday mundane errands
Unaware of his decent into madness

within numbered days
left til i celebrate christ's birth
i saw the darkness in your eyes

i knew that you were dangerous
how could you do this to me
you destroyed me
you keep me in chains

i cannot escape
a terrible reality
a different hell
set by the one
i'd love to die for.

The trains running past,
the buses too slow to catch,
ever-shining street lights
and people's eyes no longer bright --
let's throw it all away,
if it'll all be taken from us anyway.

Let's call it home -
my breath, steady over your shoulder,
you shirt, damp from my tears,
a million hugs and compliments,
the ringing of laughter.

It's all going to fade away:
A house to an apartment to a dorm room,
desperately, hesitantly, found safe havens.
But this --

Let's call it people. Let's call it connection.
How about we keep it?
Hold it tight, keep it close - hold on, and don't let go.

Someday, when Google finally blackmails us,
there's going to be a dozen chats,
on half a dozen forms of social media.

And someday, when this is all history,
and the internet's long since collapsed -
they're going to trace postcard after postcard,
letter after letter.

When I go bankrupt, I'll blame post-stamps.
I'll blame living a few too many countries,
a few too many oceans, few too many continents far away,
to see you all in person.
I'll blame needing to write Love you, miss you,
because this is the girl who thought everyone was going to leave,
and now she doesn't want to give you any excuse to forget her, see.
And I'll still smile at every text message,
Still grin unabashedly at every piece of mail I get back.
Still be so, so freakin' happy, when I get to see you in person.

So let's call it friends, let's call it family.
Let's call this home.

I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.

I found myself in Putney
after many stupid years.
It was a worthless day
before spring comes with all its biting powers.
There was nothing there in Putney
but that February hearse
and all the villainy of incredible memory
born out of pointless love and hope that blackmails.
There was traffic there, that endless vicious fume
of noise; and litter blowing pointlessly;
savage parents; hard and worried kids;
the thundering mess of London all around;
a hop of sparrows on that pointless ground.
I found myself in Putney
where I lost myself so many stupid years ago,
and by that withered house a withered love arose.
“Ah, love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
“You acknowledge me?” she said.
“Of course,” I answered.
“Put your arm across my breast,” she said.
“Touch my still hair. Weep plentifully.
“Let your poor heart break. Strike here across my cheek
“To know what you have lost.”
“My love,” I whispered, “why have you arisen?”
(From the withered house the years were toppling.)
“Stupid questions from a stupid man.
“You loved me and you lost me.”
Then the roar of London hurt my head.
I saw a man go down a street
Where no street was, where no man was.

I believe in never speaking the words,
‘Should have’ and ‘would have’, enemies
Of the Self.

Though many were the times
I should have, would have known
Better,

Life treated me well. Bad moments
Acknowledged as necessary paths,
To becoming who I am.

Now I am asked to ponder and find
One thing I would do
Otherwise.

I know exactly what it is and I’m ashamed
To confess: Say ‘No’ all the times I said ‘Yes’,
Unwillingly.

A chronic violence to myself,
To please others under emotional blackmails,
Fake rules of good behaviour and respect.

I should have, would have liked
To love myself more and find
The ****** courage to say ‘No’,

All the times I said ‘Yes’.

BY MARILYN L. TAYLOR*

A reflection on my students

They are so beautiful, and so very young
they seem almost to glitter with perfection,
these creatures that I briefly move among.

I never get to stay with them for long,
but even so, I view them with affection:
they are so beautiful, and so very young.

Poised or clumsy, placid or high-strung,
they're expert in the art of   introspection,
these creatures that I briefly move among—

And if their words don't quite trip   off the tongue
consistently, with just the right inflection,
they remain beautiful. And very young.

Still, I have to tell myself it's   wrong
to think of them as anything but fiction,
these creatures that I briefly move   among—

Because, like me, they're traveling   headlong
in that familiar, vertical direction
that coarsens beautiful, blackmails young—
the two delusions we all move among.

Just that you know
I wrote you a special song
Wait! Hold up! Not what you think
It wasn't easy my Dearest
But I prayed for the grace
The grace of goodbye

I am finally over you
For the emotional blackmails
Assaults in different shades
I finally got the *****
I heard all you said about me
I forgive you already

In you I saw tomorrow
A tomorrow that now will never come
Don't worry about me
I will cry for a while
But I'll be strong
You just became history
A story of once upon a time

Who says men are men
Men have emotions too
Truth is, we tear too
We just do it differently
Behind those smiles  
Lays buckets of water
Only legends can identify with this

I tried alcohol and cigarettes
But hangover got the lot of me
The problem never left
I tried painting and singing
But I could only hear myself
All these meant nothing
To what loosing you meant to me

Why do we hurt the ones we love most?
I've been acting like a ****
But this tragedy will pass
And my sun will rise again
Because I am an incurable optimist
I know I will fall again

When you stopped calling daily
When you stopped dropping by
And cut off emotional support
Like algebraic permutations
I knew you were done like done
But life abhores vacuum
An Angel will fill that void

A Lanister always keeps his words
I promise you I will rise again
But just that you know
The music doesn't sound the same
The walk now seem lonely
For all its worth
The food has become tastelessly tasteless

If you have ever been dumped
By the one you truly love
I've got bottles of beer
With Kenny G at the background
Please gather here my friends
Let's cry together
Love hurts...