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 Jan 2013 Z
Caytlin Rae
Sometimes I wonder…
What if I was my teddy bear?
The one with the brown fur that
With me, has gone everywhere?
I think I’d remember the name
My girl gave me.
The moment she brought me to life…  

Yes, the moment she made the wish
On that heart, and put it
Straight into my chest.
She doesn’t remember that wish,
But I do
And I’ve tried my best to make it
Come true.

The happy times when I
Was brought everywhere,
Dancing in her room,
Or brushing her hair.
Or the lonely times where I
Sat in her closet, waiting.
I knew she would be back for me.

The time she retrieved me again,
I was excited; but she was sad.
So I comfort her, though I cannot
Hug her back.
No matter how much I try.
My cotton arms are limp
While she tightens her grip
On me.
She tries to transfer her pain
Into my stuffing.
She wanted to be free of the hurt
And the suffering.

She was happy the next day,
Or so she tried.
But then, I’ve seen everything
That, from others, she tries to hide.
I was left up on her bed,
And I waited for each night.
She would crawl under the covers
And cuddle me tight.

The days turned to months
And the months turned to years.
Eventually I was forced
To face my biggest fear.
My girl, she would graduate ,
Any day, now.
I knew I had to pray
That I could leave with her, somehow.

While she packed up for college,
I sat quietly on her bed.
For how could a bear blame her,
For not wanting a
Stuffed animal
To tag along?
She packed up all of her things,
Climbed into her bed for the very last time.
She laid her head on that pillow,
And softly, she started to cry.

She quietly sobbed to me,
About her wishes, dreams, and fears.
And for another time, my fur
Soaked up her tears.
When the next morning she woke,
Scared and out of place,
She turned to me and smiled,
With a bright look on her face.
The boxes were out of her room,
She finally picked me up.

Here I sit now, in a dorm room.
In case my girl needs me.
I know I’m the only boy
That has been here through everything.
The years full of tears and cheers.
Maybe someday, a man will
Take my place.
But until that moment,
I am here.
 Jan 2013 Z
Zack
I just finished texting you on December 31st
Sunday night, or maybe you consider that a Monday morning
and a country song just came on the radio
I couldn't help but to think about how much I hate country music
I hate the stereotypical voice the singer always sings,
the predictable pattern of strung guitar strings
So, at 2:24 am, on a December 31st, Sunday night/Monday morning

I started to wonder if you liked country music
Or believed too that it's tacky
I wonder if "tacky" even exist in your vocabulary
Where did you get your vocabulary?
Did your mom raise you to believe words would be your greatest ally
Was she raised with more than one language
I wonder what your ancestor's native language sounds like
And if it was ripped out of their tongues
Like culture in our history books
what stories were told from those tongues that history books could never tell
I wonder, what kind of stories you've carved in lover's mouths
with just your, tongue.

I wondered if you've ever lost someone
I wonder if you've ever lost yourself
If you did, where did you find yourself?
Did you find yourself in your palms over bent knees
That kissed the ground that at one time
kissed your feet.

I wonder when we'll meet
I wonder if I'll meet your best friend. If shell ever get scared
You'll replace her with me
And if I'll have to tell her, she's irreplaceable.
I wonder what's your favorite places you've been to
The places that made you smile to your human anatomy's most potential
And I wonder how much you know about your own human anatomy
I wonder if you know that an average heart beats 100,000 times a day
Pumping almost 2,000 gallons of blood through its chambers
Over a 70 year lifespan, that adds up to about 2.5 billion heartbeat
And sitting here, just wondering about you- you made me skip a few.

It's now 3:07 a.m.
And I'm wonderin' if you've ever wondered what it would be like to be loved by a poet
To have your body be put words and your words be put against my body
To have lips match figurative language to the figure of your body
And write love poems on your cheek
And I wonder if you even consider me a poet.

What are the events in your life you consider poetic?
If your life was a poem, what kind of poem would your
8th grade English teacher categorize it as?
If you were a curious child and if now
You're ever curious about me
If my mind ever wanders while I wonder about you
And if I could ever weaver it back

At 3:21 a.m., December 31st, Sunday night, Monday morning
I'm wondering if you're wondering about me.
Or if you ever wonder if I've ever lost myself, but more recently, lost my mind writing poetry

I wonder if you wonder if I consider myself a poet.
I wonder, if at 3:27 am, if you're awake too,
Wondering if I like country music.
 Jan 2013 Z
Holly W
Hate and Hatred
 Jan 2013 Z
Holly W
I hate overly yellow bananas
and cilantro in my salad
I hate fleecy sweaters
and pony tails that are too tight
I hate when I can't sleep because I drank too much coffee
and when nobody tells me goodnight

I hate when you promise the sky because you can
and when you don't care
I hate when you yell
and my eyes start to burn
I hate when you're never around
and that you never were
I hate that you try and control me
but know nothing about me
I hate that I have never been a priority
and I know that I never will...
 Jan 2013 Z
Tim Knight
This is a club scene poem, so
imagine classics from the nineties
and fearless girls drinking from beer tins-
this is that night you want to omit
and not remember,
this is every night you’ve had to dance
and not wanted to.*

He dropped his drink
for the red-bra-girl;
she thought it the rain,
but instead it were a wasted
drink down the cigarette drain.

Girls in Jack Daniels
who don’t like whiskey
nor dances,
nor the sting of alcohol
upon their tongue.
www.facebook.com/timknightpoetry
 Jan 2013 Z
Maya Caroline
Song
 Jan 2013 Z
Maya Caroline
we are like broken records
you and i
spiraling around and around each other
whispering and declaring
promising and always cherishing
the mantras of our undying love.
 Jan 2013 Z
Tallulah
American Money
 Jan 2013 Z
Tallulah
Numb me with marijuana
Grown somewhere in Tijuana
Excite me with a line
Pretty soon I’ll be feelin’ fine
Money can buy me happiness

Meet me in the back of the bar
Smoke that musky Cuban cigar
Touch me with manicured hands
Glinting diamonds of wedding bands
Money can buy me happiness

Traded morals for skyscrapers
A Hampton house with too many acres
Smoothing down in a velvet gown
Baby don’t you see? I own this town.
Money can buy me happiness.
 Jan 2013 Z
Nat
Daddy
 Jan 2013 Z
Nat
You don't know, soon I'll be a college graduate.
you were the person I talked about,  
when it came to succeeding.
Not because of, but in spite.

You don't know that I am in love.
The man treats me like a princess,
better than you,
ever even hinted at.

You don't know, that I whispered:
"I wish I had a daddy."
As he picked out a birthday card for his father.
And I cried in the aisle of Walmart.

You don't know I had so much love to give you.
You could have been so proud of me.
I would have been so...much.

Now I just push the idea of you away.
Trying not to remember,
that most have fathers.
Around.

And the saddest part.
I cannot get closure, when you
never really even started anything,

for me to end.
 Jan 2013 Z
JM
Sons and Mothers
 Jan 2013 Z
JM
I had to do it again.

I had to willingly
walk into the face of danger
and get rid of another stray
you let in.

My hand still hurts.

You are the most beautiful person I have ever known.

I have seen you beaten
and bruised by men
you have loved.
I have watched you struggle
for years with your own demons
of addiction, depression, poor choices
and lost loves.
I have seen your face
cry
far too many times.

Through the years
we have waxed and waned,
driven each other mad
with rage
and consoled each other
on our darkest days.
We have laughed,
cried,
screamed,
loved
and hated ourselves,
together and separate.  
I have left your side,
sometimes with thoughts of never returning,
of leaving behind all the pain
of our lives together and seeking my own pain,
only to return to you always.

We  got high together,
got clean together,
and have been everywhere in between.  
There were times
when you have been

so spun out

that you were unrecognizable
as a human
except
for your shape.
Other times you have been
the sole beacon of lucidity
in the dark chasm
of my
great
nothing.

Throughout all the beatings
we have suffered at the hands of others,
all the times some stray you let in robbed us,
all the dope deals gone bad,
the missed holidays,
the broken promises,
lies,
the good intentions gone bad,
through all of that your unshakable faith in
God
has always been a source of your inspiration to go on,
to move forward,
to keep smiling and more importantly,
to keep loving others.
Your willingness to help those
who are in need,
those
that have have hurt you,
and even
those
that you know are going to
hurt you,
has been both a source of
consternation and frustration
along with teaching me
how to love others,
how to have compassion.

You are the most beautiful person I have ever known.
I love you, Mother.
 Jan 2013 Z
Lee
I wish
I pray
I could spend sweet moments
like this
with you
sitting over warm cups of black coffee
with sugar
or cream
or however you wanted it
early morning
late night
anytime would be alright
with you
right here
all the cares might disappear
your eyes
and lips
**** slow contemplate burning cherry tips
our fixation
not caffeination
brings me the kind of buzz I want now
to kiss
to hold
someone to share and savor the cold
on those
silent days
everything but us could fade away
all over
these things
tell me what your heart springs
It's love
I'd show
cuddle, huddle, breathe, slow
don't need
any thing
smokes, coffee, the silence they bring
no words
just connection
sit silent sweet in reflection
stoges, coffee
now or never
perfect seconds we'd be together.
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