Opportunity should be leashed,
             make it respect you.
Never let it
                    *** up your leg.
As opportunity only respects
          those who will walk it.

And then you can let it run free,
as it'll always come back
                                 time after time.

Can you tell me
what its like
to fall
so very deeply
in love?

can you tell me what its like
to prioritise another breath
over your own

can you tell me why
i can't  fall in love

or am a monster
born to observe
but never have
anything
that is
love.

The other day I showed my mom my poems
"Why do you always write sad poems? Write happy." She says
I just nodded, but I couldn't tell her my code of secrecy.
I write so I can let all the pain go
The pain of yesterday
and the reason that was was that I didn't have anybody when I moved
Everybody was occupied
And on my first day of school, I ruined everything
my words were spoken in clumps
and my pen was my only companion
So I wrote
wrote like the ink was my blood and paper my skin
and poetry accepted my request of being a friend
now my poems act as a mentor and a tutor
I can't give up writing sad poems
because if I do,
I'll lose yesterday

“My dream date is after we’ve already been dating for a few months and decide to go out on the town. We meet a cute guy, buy him drinks, and spend the next few hours laughing together and maybe slaying it at a karaoke bar. Afterwards we invite him back to my place and get into some role play. I become Israel, he Palestine, and you The Goddess that helps them finally come together, even though Israel has to bend over a little bit to make it happen.

Confession: this is a dream date. I have to become really committed to physical therapy again in order to get my singing voice back for karaoke and I live with old country people so it’d have to be at your place.”

Sometimes I break
Like a building
To a wrecking ball.
Sudden, huge, a mess.

Sometimes I break
Like a dilapidated house,
Slowly falling apart, crumbling,
Inside to out.

And then I lay like a corpse
For hours.

Sometimes I'll feel the warm tears
Running trails down my skin.

Sometimes I'll feel the sharp sting
Of hurt I caused myself.

But mostly,
I feel lost,
And dead,
And useless.

'I'll be fine tomorrow,'
I tell myself
Every time.

And I am.
So I don't deal with today.
I don't deal with
Now.

I sleep it off.
Then I'm fine.
Then it comes back.
Then I sleep it off.
Then I'm fine.
Then it comes back
Then-

I will be fine
Tomorrow.

I never knew
the things that I could do
and I'm afraid
as I laid
on my bed; I have failed
myself, and now I'm afraid
of the things that I could do
I'm losing myself
I never knew
banging your head
could set you free
I never knew,
comfort could be found
at the tears on my bed

I am afraid
of the things in my head
I am afraid
of myself

MARRIAGE, A NEW BIRTH

She is so loved in parents' house,
The toy of all, and joy main source.
All members find in her their joy.
She is for all their main life buoy.

They bring her what she loves to eat
To get her smile, so cute and sweet.
She brings her house a man one day,
Her choice to share with him her way.

What will that man bring her new life?
She finds in him a new birth strife.
What sort of life will he create?
To what new land will they migrate?

He is the captain who will sail
Her sailboat which is small and frail.
What will this birth show her and give?
Is it worth what she plans to leave?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

Weep,
poor willow drunken,
from the water you lay your roots on.

Weep,
for your drooping leaves ,
dance in the wind and upon the great expanse of the water underneath.

Weep, for the final time,
for my axe! brings down your drooping vines.