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Life Is a Blessing

Whoever said life is a blessing,
Told a satanic lie!
You struggle
Until you die,
A soulless body,
Just a nose bleed to a society
Not wanting to know
The acne face of your failures.

I’ve been humbled
On heartless streets,
Dejected without deliverance,
Spending my affection
On household plants,
Whispering to unresponsive
Rose petals.

Unromantic parks!
Horse and carriages
Move in gloomy rain,

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poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Poverty Is Here To Stay

Children picking food at the dump site
Scratching overgrown hair full of lice
Unclad youngsters playing in the muck
No program or drives to keep them tuck,
Thoughts torture their souls constantly
One difficulty that ensues incessantly:
Poverty is here to stay.

Begging at crossroads is not allowed
Police enjoy caning them avowed
They run, falling, exposing their parts.
Strive for survival an intense freaking.
Take to robbing and house breaking,
Land in jails and are called terrorists:
Poverty is here to stay.

Have no education for want of school cost
No defense for want of a solicitor provost
No identity card for want of official braids
No homes as shanties are on illegal lands,

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poem by Syed Anwar Yarkhan Jilani
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1954

Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt
he had put on her face. And her training bra
scared me—the newspapers, morning and evening,
kept saying it, training bra,
as if the cups of it had been calling
the breasts up—he buried her in it,
perhaps he had never bothered to take it
off. They found her underpants
in a garbage can. And I feared the word
eczema, like my acne and like
the X in the paper which marked her body,
as if he had killed her for not being flawless.
I feared his name, Burton Abbott,
the first name that was a last name,
as if he were not someone specific.
It was nothing one could learn from his face.
His face was dull and ordinary,
it took away what I’d thought I could count on
about evil. He looked thin and lonely,
it was horrifying, he looked almost humble.

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poem by Sharon Olds
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You Called Me A Cow

it was an ideal vacation for us all:
a final frolic with three years’ worth of friends
one month before we were scheduled to graduate
and then migrate in opposite directions
we’ll never be together like that again

beautiful weather all five days –
temperatures in the seventies, just enough clouds –
docile waves belly-flopped upon immaculate sand
and the velvet ocean air caressed my slumbering face
as I awoke every mellow morning
what an auspicious way to start a day!

my friend and I chatted as we tanned ivory bodies
sprawled across a clean hotel-owned sheet
shamelessly wallowing in delicious laziness
so eager to embrace the long-absent sun

in short, I was perfectly content
for the first time in months

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poem by Wendy Lloyd
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Kamikaze Teenage Boy - A High School Massacre

His life was built with a self destruct switch
That's been awakened through constant abuse
Every moment is a cage that's been eating him with rage
Words cannot not delay, what doctors call a phase
When he's sick of being looked as a reject from a zoo
And everyone's compassion is introverted bruised

His role on the stage has been of the fool
A knave played puppet, to everyone's strings
But soon the role will be revoked
And his mission will be provoked
Letting him fly in delusions sweet sorrow
When he wipes the slate clean in the classroom tomorrow

No college, career, or girl time play fun
No mortgage hangovers, or warrior weekends
No plans to make copies with his 23 chromosomes
Before he retires from this office managed planet
A mummified nation drove him into permanent cremation
Its vacation from existence; a date with mass extinction

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poem by Kevin Patrick
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Empty Pockets Full of Poesy

years writing poems
nothing to show
cant help but feel
I'm owed

Hermes stole my eyes!
Athene hijacked my mouth!
My bed is crawling with pixies!
can't sleep can't eat can't see nor speak!
The Muses have all conspired against me!

Walls closing in
suspended between two certain graves
either giving in to exhaustion or depression.
Being exploited for my poetry,
...by my poetry!

Thalia tickled me into thraldom!
The Oracle seduced me into an abject fate!
The muses all gathered with the prophets to plot

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poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Radio Friendly Unit Shifter

Use just once and destroy
Invasion of our piracy
Afterbirth of a nation
Starve without your skeleton key

I love you for what I am not
I do not want what I have got
A blanket acne'ed with ciggarette burns
Speak at once while taking turns
Second-rate third defree burns
What is wrong with me
What is what I need
What do I think I think
This had nothing to do with what you think
If you ever think at all
Bi-polar opposites attract
All of a sudden my water broke
hate

song performed by Nirvana from In Utero
Added by Lucian Velea
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Falling At Your Feet

Every chip from every cup
Every promise given up
Every reason that's not enough
Is falling, falling at your feet
Every band elastic limit
Every race when there's nothing in it
Every winner that has lost their ticket
Is falling, falling at your feet
I've come crawling, falling at your feet
Everyone who needs a friend
Every life that has no end
Every knee not ready to bend
Is falling, falling at your feet
I've come crawling, now I'm falling at your feet
All fall down
All the manic days
The faces that you pull
All the x-rays not under your control
The graffiti rolling down off of your tongue
And the compromise you make for someone

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song performed by U2
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An Alliterative Amorous Answer

Alliterative Love Letter

Adored and angelic Amelia. Accept an ardent and artless amourist’s affections, alleviate an anguished admirer’s alarms, and answer an amorous applicant’s avowed ardour. Ah, Amelia! all appears an awful aspect! Ambition, avarice and arrogance, alas are attractive allurements, and abase an ardent attachement. Appease an aching and affectionate adorer’s alarms, and anon acknowledge affianced Albert’s alliance as agreeable and acceptable.

Anxiously awaiting an affectionate and affirmative answer, accept an ardent admirer’s aching adieu. Always angelic and admirable Amelia’s admiring and affectionate amourist, Albert
Wit and Wisdom 1826

An Alliterative Answer

Artless Amelia Acme’s answer adamantly admonishing artful Albert Acne’s announced amorous ambitions, and assertive advances, actively advocates appropriate alternatives. Also, attesting abhorrent Albert’s attempted abduction, Amelia asks an adequate aureate award. Advance “ amical ” arrangements are altogether abjured.

Adieu Albert!

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Feeling Out Of Sorts?

Feeling out of sorts these days?
Want to know what you can do?
Need help? Here are 50 ways,
Maybe you'll benefit from a few

ROTMS

SYMPTOMS OF SPIRITUAL AWAKENING

1. Changing sleep patterns: restlessness, hot feet, waking up two or three times a night. Feeling tired after you wake up and sleepy off and on during the day.
There is something called the Triad Sleep Pattern that occurs for many: you sleep for about 2-3 hours, wake up, go back to sleep for another couple of hours, wake again, and go back to sleep again. For others, the sleep requirements have changed. You can get by on less sleep.
Lately I have been experiencing huge waves of energy running into my body from the crown. It feels good, but it keeps me awake for a long time, then subsides.

Advice: Get used to it. Make peace with it and don't worry about getting enough sleep (which often causes more insomnia) . You will be able to make it through the day if you hold thoughts of getting just what you need. You can also request your Higher Power to give you a break now and then and give you a good, deep night's sleep.

If you can't go back to sleep right away, use the waking moments to meditate, read poetry, write in your journal or look at the moon. Your body will adjust to the new pattern.

2. Activity at the crown of the head: Tingling, itching, prickly, crawling sensations along the scalp and/or down the spine. A sense of energy vibrating on top of the head, as if energy is erupting from the head in a shower. Also the sensation of energy pouring in through the crown, described as 'sprinkles'.

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poem by Ray Lucero
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