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Inter-twilight love

I suppose I love you twice
And I realize I hate you once.
Even I'm not sure
That I am really capable to hate you
But you can make me oscillate
Day by day
Between hatred and
The feeling called love
By you only
Until it will be almost impossible
To keep this feeling alive
And I can explain you
It is because
This breakable mechanism called love
Which normally starts from the souls
Didn't start within us from there
But from another secret place
Of our being
And I can explain
You see, our feeling consists

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poem by Marieta Maglas
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TreeAddicted

TreeAddicted
TreeAddicted

The Surgeon made a house call to the tree housed near the Golf coarse was the bark and dry to the touch of the famous tree doctor Guss. Well the neighbor hood watch complained again he cant see the clock the one they call Big Bend, your leaves and your trunk are hanging over you are addicted again. Sap. My professional opinion is pinion sap is blocking your membrains you need a new rapp your talk is all wrong you are slurring again you seem now to be an addicted tree friend listen to eye overcame the same problem now eye am Doctoring treating the addicts like yew wont you listen and at least admit that you have a real problem dont deny it come clean now admit it dont live in your denial. The sad tree became mad now the Doctor had to step a little to the left to avoid the sap spittle from the beard of this giant Oaken Elm. Eye am the greatest tree that ever lived he began to deny it. Eye have no sap problem in fact no problem of any kind let the watch man step a little to the left of the incline then he can see the clock called the Big Bend let them eat cake let them opine let them dine and the Tree Surgeon just walked away letting the Oaken Elm tree relate to the sidewalk was trying to slink down away from the terrible fate of this tree full of sap let the minions relate to this fate stop hangging all over every time you go on a tree date with sap running down the large doubled chin marring the outfit makeing men grin look at the easy lay look at the drunken old sot full of pot full of want. Your barking and your bite in the night get you in trouble all sorts of odd fellowes will call. Cry Wolf let them harm all the other trees now. Get sober stop using the sap. Get a clean outfit get a new thinking capp.

poem by Charles Hice
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Insect Assassins

Injects no survive. Efforts control the
Animal survive. Survive. Animal survive. Survive. Injects no survive.

In nasty spitting eye cost. This
Assassin spitting spitting assassin spitting spitting in nasty spitting

Insectivorous nutriment species encounter Charles to
Are species species are species species insectivorous nutriment species

Into notoriety. Sweeping eastern capture testimony
As sweeping sweeping as sweeping sweeping into
notoriety. Sweeping

Interest nervous succumb easily: composed tube
Adhesive succumb succumb adhesive succumb succumb interest
nervous succumb

It near spider East closes thorax.
And spider spider and spider spider it near spider

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poem by Jackson Mac Low
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Dreamworks

DREAMWORKS
Eyes saw reflection Monday, when World War II was won,
emerging, letters learning, to betters bowed, begun
a journey spread like butter upon life’s bread, which seems
to be about to stutter before landlord of dreams.

Eye Tuesday schooled, life's masquerade began to understand
how letters strung together rung bells brain took in hand,
soft strength no bitter toil required to channel patterned streams,
blood flood no rudder needed to feed forever's dreams.

Eyes which advanced one Wednesday upon emotions’ tide
to woo, to win, together, as groom to beauty bride,
felt joys would last for ever, like strawberries and cream,
tapped hope's sap, never'd sever eternity from dreams.

Eyes which in turn one Thursday sired fruit so well desired,
who queried much, yet stayed untouched by vain ambitions tired,
felt feelings frank, not clever, that seek 'together's' gleams,
to sow, reap, harvest, gather the essence of shared dreams.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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La Chevelure (Her Hair)

Ô toison, moutonnant jusque sur l'encolure!
Ô boucles! Ô parfum chargé de nonchaloir!
Extase! Pour peupler ce soir l'alcôve obscure
Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure,
Je la veux agiter dans l'air comme un mouchoir!

La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique,
Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt,
Vit dans tes profondeurs, forêt aromatique!
Comme d'autres esprits voguent sur la musique,
Le mien, ô mon amour! nage sur ton parfum.

J'irai là-bas où l'arbre et l'homme, pleins de sève,
Se pâment longuement sous l'ardeur des climats;
Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m'enlève!
Tu contiens, mer d'ébène, un éblouissant rêve
De voiles, de rameurs, de flammes et de mâts:

Un port retentissant où mon âme peut boire
À grands flots le parfum, le son et la couleur

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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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I Hope I Am Just Like You

i know
that you will be reading this.

This is thinking about man's capacity to quit.
TO dismiss what he grows inside his heart.

He was talking about the stalk of the fruit.
His end like the sap. The white sap
of the stain of the stalk of the fruit

the banana stalk giving off the
white sap from its stalk
cut off by the sharp bolo
when it ripens

he is talking about the mouth
and the last spit of the saliva

rabid. The dog finally goes off the street
and bites everybody.

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sitting Here Staring At My Last Friend

Sitting here staring at my last friend
We never talk, about the end
How can we talk?
Why should we talk?
The end is here between you and me.

For my last friends
in the bottom of a bottle
Down the barrel of a gun
My last friend is a friend indeed
A friend who could never run.

Your last friend is in your veins
As you stare blanky into that space
I can see it working behind your eyes
once sweet shining beautiful eyes

For your last friends
at the end of a needle
Under the screw down cap

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poem by Tamsin Burnett
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Craving for Spring

I wish it were spring in the world.

Let it be spring!
Come, bubbling, surging tide of sap!
Come, rush of creation!
Come, life! surge through this mass of mortification!
Come, sweep away these exquisite, ghastly first-flowers,
which are rather last-flowers!
Come, thaw down their cool portentousness, dissolve them:
snowdrops, straight, death-veined exhalations of white and purple crocuses,
flowers of the penumbra, issue of corruption, nourished in mortification,
jets of exquisite finality;
Come, spring, make havoc of them!

I trample on the snowdrops, it gives me pleasure to tread down the jonquils,
to destroy the chill Lent lilies;
for I am sick of them, their faint-bloodedness,
slow-blooded, icy-fleshed, portentous.

I want the fine, kindling wine-sap of spring,

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poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Upwardly MobileBreasts

Upwardly mobile breasts
link together East and West,
occupying cyberspace
to tease, to please, as they unbrace -
spring feeding fantasy oppressed -
that gravity which, second-guessed,
would temper passions. These, apace,
grow, flow with honey, milk, chased chaste.

Man, mammal mammary obsessed,
manhandles, memory manifests
'I' level interest interface_
_sings [t]issues in both good, poor taste,
can't displace attention best
focused elsewhere, soul possessed
by magnet tandem ride, slim waist,

upwardly mobile, undepressed.
D stands for Double bubble laced,
succulence symetric spaced

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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All Over You

the sap is rising
and there's no disguising
what I feel for you
so mesmerising
got me fantasising
nothing I won't do
parascending, whoa oh
but it's all depending
on your sky so blue
my wings keep stalling
from the sky I'm falling
and it's over - all over you
all over you
let me build a nation
that bears no relation to the one we knew
take inspiration
from my own salvation
'cause it's over - all over you
get on board the gravy train
off the rails if you don't keep me sane

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song performed by Level 42
Added by Lucian Velea
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