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 Dec 2012 Joe Milton
dj
Mothra
 Dec 2012 Joe Milton
dj
I never noticed until now
Detroit is a real town

Thru a puddle, I go
Past the shuttered laundromat
The charcoal stump colonials
Carnivorous ivy
Strangling the
Rustbolt cars lining the
Pothole roads that I never noticed
Until now, Detroit is a real town

At the corner of Rosa Parks Dr.,
A rotting moonlight and gasoline aroma
A damp liquor store and a bus-stop
               sign,
6 ghosts linger around the metal post
Like silvery mothra ,
Clinging at night to an outdoor light
The saviour stop.
For tiffany spirits
With expressionless faces.

Two phantom headlights manifest
Out of the indescribable looming night
And park at the sign

The ghosts faint
Thru the double doors
Of one rickety, dutiful citybus
The tailpipes dripping wil-o'-the-wisp
As it proceeds out of my view
Into dark night shade.









.
I wish I could say this was a dramatization. The area surrounding UofDM (the small, private, Catholic sancturary of a college I used attend) gives me the chills at night. And I swear, every person I would see at the bus stops (there really is a street called Rosa Parks Dr. with a corner bus stop) looked like a ghost.
 Dec 2012 Joe Milton
Ugo
(the city had fought the fortnight before)
fire burned through the little skirts
and plastic lunch boxes
carrying the nourishment of our future
doctors and worldshakers—

                                 Future
tax paying Americans
And beacon of the nation.

Wide awake, in the thoughts of a light bulb,
(Where sidewalk stairs politic with the devil,)
A raindrop fell and whispered to the asphalt,
“Tell me what you know about happiness…”
And somewhere, in the middle of a pineapple parade,
A Pepsi can smiled and danced the night away with Nyquil labels.
S.H.E.S  
Vicki Soto
Sticky sheets
gooey in between.
Shivering through shouts,
nights last loud.
tickling me with your eyes,
hands moistening thighs,
pale gasps,
crinkled crys,
and waves that rolled then calmed us
close, too close.
Naked, nestled real
in silver hands.
Sweaty smooth,
and gritty
sand.
Fresh faces hot against backs
and kissing
to find pillow lips
plump
and flowing with neon lights,
crakling life.
sweet, following sleep
to the rocks of electicity,
creating soothing simplicity in me.
 Dec 2012 Joe Milton
Jaelin Rose
Will i ever stop wondering about you
you walked in to my life and turned it upside down
with those Big brown eyes of yours
That smile that can warm my heart up over a thousand watts
But the thing is you notice me but don't say words.
you watch me past you and you just check me out
I catch your eyes on me and others
I just can't stop wondering about you
I like you and another
he treats me Like i am there
he makes sure im okay
he puts his strong hands on me when i doubt myself
I can't help but say im in love with him but i dont't know if he likes me
I used to know but some lady had to come and ruin it for the two of us
I wish i could ask you like i did that once
cause you caught my heart and i don't want to lose you
I need help figuring this out
 Dec 2012 Joe Milton
Erica Sooter
If I could get on a plane right now, I would.
Leave everyone and everything behind;
making my own destiny
from the wings in the sky.
I want to prove you all wrong
I want to prove myself wrong.
Overcoming complexes born into me.
My fight is hard
but i do not want to be
what genetics and family history
tell me I will be.
I'm going to break that trend
change my name
change my game
I'm going to rewrite this story.
Honesty.
That's what drives me to be
I want to hear truths,
not sugar-coated compliments
that make me doubt sincerity.
Why is it so hard for me to believe?
I'm gonna fly.
Airports feel like home to me
people leaving
people coming.
"Someone's last goodbye
blends in with someone's sigh"
you're either going off
or coming home.
My soul roams
looking for faces I don't know;
trying to guess their stories.
I AM good enough
I may not talk your ears off
have a hot ***
or stand out brilliantly
but I am enough.
Those who cannot see
are blind.
There will always be
the enemy
trying to bring me down.
Self-worth is my weakness
and he knows it.
But I have my armor, I have my sword
I have my cunning wit.
This war is mine.
This war is yours.
How invisible it all seems
and yet it is here
bursting from my very own seams.
Take my hand.
Do you feel the electricity
humming in my bones?
Jumping off a dock
the icy water
jolts my heart
and I feel alive.
Your hand strong in mine
run with me.
My clumsiness
causes me to trip.
Often.
Some say enduring
I say annoying.
If I had wings
then I could fly
and not trip upon uneven ground.
Stairway to freedom
to feel the wind on my face
and in my hair.
A car rushes to sunnier shores
music blasting
lungs filled with songs
as we speed down that old highway.
Camaraderie.
A family truer than my own.
I'm at home on the road
sea salt on our skin
stories by a fireside
the stars as blankets
friends as pillows.
A feeling of unconditional
love
friendship
truth.
That does not often
weave itself
into the patterns of
daily life.
Brothers and Sisters,
though not by birth
are almost of a better kind;
you have to find them
and enchant their hearts
as they do yours
with no ties of blood
keeping you together.
My space.
My place.
My spot in life
is wherever I currently stand
or sit
or sleep
or think
or love
or dream.
Here I am.
In college we are taught to be animals
like "monkey see, monkey do".
Paying in pennies
to live in this petting zoo
Uncaged
Untamed
Some of us broken
Most of us maimed.
Escaping,
freedom without a clue.
My words are clumsy
and heavy as rocks thudding
on top of moist earth.
They're disruptive,
uncomfortable.
The noise of my voice like brass
clattering down a flight of stairs,
injured and dented.
Though underground, the sound
is silky and sleek.
My words falling like tiny pearls,
tap dancing daintily,
spilling smooth across marble,
rolling easily,
steady like pattering rain.

— The End —