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PS Rowland Dec 2015
Imagine the peace and love
that comes with
the truth.
No need to plan
and devise, just be.
©All Rights Reserved P.S. Rowland
King Panda Aug 2017
a crocus opens and
closes with the stream of
midnight moon.

the playmate of exhaustion
crosses the room
in his heavy, black boots
to close the curtains.

goodbye, light.
goodbye, pride of lions
and boy transformed
into a werewolf.

a scratch
of larceny,
the cuddle of
maple leaves rotting,
the magnet spinning
in rocket-ship orbit.

all secrets held in
in hair compounded
into strings of
black opal,
and limbs stenciling
comets around
five feet of woman.

nothing in the talk
can suffocate—a quick
and easy birth of
ecstasy and the emotional
sidestep into the dark
of slumber,
seemingly feminine but
dreams strong as
barbed wire.

when to sleep?

a question finger-written
on my chest.
Terry Collett Jan 2016
It's Sister Lucy not Sister Bridget
who's the crush on the young priest
Father Joseph Magdalene said,

Mary said is she the one? as she sat
on Mags bed listening to music
on her record player I thought
you said the Bridget,

Magdalene sitting beside Mary
passed a glass of lemonade to her
and said nothing certain
you understand just the rumours
I've heard but don't tell
the parents or my ****'ll
be slapped for spreading the rumour,

have you a ciggie?
Mary said
putting the lemonade and glass
on the bedside cabinet,

Magdalene poked under the mattress
and took out a squashed pack
of 10 Woodbines and said
open the fecking window
or Ma'll know we've been smoking
and she'll have a moan
and passed the packet to Mary
who took a cigarette
and put it in her mouth
and went and opened the window,

Magdalene took a cigarette
and stuffed the packed
under the mattress again,

Mary sat down and said
have you a light then
or are we to fecking **** on air?

Magdalene took out
of the pocket of her dress
a box of matches
(liberated from the kitchen)
and struck a light for them both
and put the matchbox away again,

they inhaled and sat in silence,

the record played( Billy fury)
and they tapped their feet softly
and nodded their heads,

so what are you doing
about Brian Brady?
Magdalene asked,

what'd you mean doing about
I'm doing nowt with the ******
it's him who thinks I'm going
to be doing things the soft loon
Mary said,

you seemed to be encouraging him
the other day Magdalene said,

ah was fun only I'd not let him
near me in a serious way
no more than the holy Joe himself
Mary said,

smoke filtered ceiling ward,

a car backfired from the street below,

Magdalene leaned in close to Mary
I'm your best friend
and I get jealous of the likes of him
being too near to you,

O he's nothing to be worrying yourself
about him Mags he's just a loon
as boys are Mary said,

Magdalene held the cigarette
a way from her lips
and kissed Mary's cheek,

Mary sighed and said
he's nothing I just give him
the tease he'll get nothing
from my ****** money box,

they both inhaled and exhaled again
and watched the smoke
rise ceiling ward,

the sound of Magdalene's ma
downstairs singing along to the radio,

Magdalene's hand went on Mary's thigh,

a bright sun in a blue Irish sky.
I don't know whether
is it love or jealousy
but whenever
someone unknown
try to talk to you
i feel like killing them.
Nassif Younes Feb 2016
That’s it.
Give it to me.
Oh yeah.
Just like that.

What happened?
Are you getting nervous?
Do I look like a ******* mirror?
You’re going too slow
And it’s giving my stomach time
To stretch.
You’ll never be done at this rate.
You’re creating a monster
And you won’t like me
When I’m like that.
You’d better give me something soon
Or else
I’m going to scare all the women out of your bed
From under
Your bed.

Oh, come on,
Is that the best you’ve got?
Are you a skylight
In a blind man’s house?
Do you live in a universe with padded walls?
You have to let go.
You have to
Let your mind lose you.
If that pencil lasts long enough for you
To memorise the serial number on its side,
You’re done.
If you aren’t getting caught in a web
Of sharpenings
When you try to stretch your legs
You’re done.

It’s just the two of us now.
My lines are the bars
Of your empty cage
And whether or not there’s light in between
Is entirely up to you.
You think everything you say will be wrong
But there’s only one way to know
And we both know
That there is nothing more wrong
Than doing nothing.
I will make that perfectly clear to you.
If you do nothing
I will stare at you with my blank, blinding white
Look of symmetrical disapproval
Until your eyes burn out
And all you can think to do
In your helpless, hapless malaise
Will be to strike a match
And burn me black
Making sure we both hit the dirt
At the same time.

We don’t want that, do we?
So come on, my darling
Let’s go somewhere quiet
And you give me that
Rough and careless touch
You know I love the most.

I may never laugh
And I may never cry
But you will.
Ray Ross Jun 15
I'd love you in the nighttime,
But you stay too far away.
I'd love you in the daytime,
But it's all harder to say.
Come climb into bed with me,
We can dance the night away.
Through your window, morning at three,
I'll climb in and kiss you someday.
Bring to my sleeping prince, some way,
All the words I had meant to say.
Nassif Younes Apr 2016
The winter breath is winded
It's icy teeth are filed into a smooth breeze -
Warm but not quite that kiss
From summer's steamy lips
And I'm hardly ***** enough
To call this Spring.

This, my friends,
Is the nothing season.
The slugglish March
Into April.

The nights are no longer cold enough
For people to fake romances with each other
Just to have a spoon
And this is not quite the heat
That makes people hook up
To prove their summer body
Was worth the effort.

This is just
A time so desperately dull
That I'm stuck here alliterating
And talking
About the ******* weather.
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