Coloring Book

Coloring Book

The blank pages lying before you

Staring at them, opening the old,

Dusty box of colored pencils

That has been sitting on your nightstand

Since the day you were born

You take the first in hand

You color the beginnings of dismay

Turning all murky and dark

A black shadow, taking over the page

Then, you grab realization

Coloring a golden lining to your dismay

Spreading, lightening your page

Then, you grab lust

Coloring a perfect fuchsia pentagon

Ruling out reason

Then, love comes

With deep red circles

Like cheeks in the depth of winter

Then, envy

A green sea sweeps around the love

Never ceasing, deepening as it goes

Then trust arrives

A blue boat sails the deep envy

Splitting it apart like firewood

Then serenity

Brown, relaxed, earthy

But suddenly, anger

Springs from the calm like

Fresh spring flowers

Attacking the page with blotted orange

But then, happiness

Slowly begins to erase the anger

Your page is full

You place the pencils back in the case

That will remain on your nightstand

Until the day you die

Mothering Poem

Mothering Poem

Why be so uptight, high strong and so fucking demanding
I wanna run away and be free
No rules, live life and get away
Once I have that, I will never come back
Never come back
I am sick of your shit
Why don’t you understand?
Give me freedom and I will show you I can be
I can be smart and make good decisions
Please watch me
Mother,
Your mothering skills are making me not love you
Love you in a way of trust and a free will
Ill show you if u let me
But you just wont let me go
Why mother why
You stand and watch me in pain
Pain, sitting in and doing nothing wrong
The second I get a chance
I will run away
There is going to be nothing you can do
Sitting on the wooden bench wishing I could be like my other friends running around
Wonder why everyone hates me?
Because I have a physco mom that does not let me live life
Once you die I will be happy
You have no idea how much pain you give me
Pain in my heart and soul
I lose everything and everyone I have because you push them away
No life, no nothing
Thank you mom
Enough is enough

Climate Change

Climate Change by Peter Waldor

Because we love one another

and because it is cold

and we are both scared,

and because we walked out

of a cloud, my son and I

hold hands on the ridge

off Vermillion Peak.

Every time we think this is it,

it's just rock form here on up-

one more pink windmill

in the thin-aired wind-

another alpine phlox,

each summer reaching higher-

a curse on my children.

Climate Change by Chloe Kunstler

Because we love one another

and because it is hot,

we find liberation in the little things-

like chocolate muffins from Au Bon Pain and attractive hipsters on the street.

While we both meditate on our boredom between classes,

we stroll down Locust Walk

imprisoned by our daily routine but

free enough to decorate our days with laughter.

Because we love one another

and because it is hot,

we can find peace here

but still dream about home.

Lighter

by Dorianne Laux

Steal something worthless, something small,

every once in a while. A lighter from the counter

at the 7-Eleven. Hold that darkness in your hand.

Look straight into the eyes of the clerk

as you slip it in your pocket, her blue

bruised eyes. Don't justify it. Just take

your change, your cigarettes, and walk

out the door into the snow or hard rain,

sunlight bearing down, like a truck, on your back.

Call it luck when you don't get caught.

Breathe easy as you stand on the corner,

waiting, like everyone else, for the light to change,

following the cop car with your eyes

as it slowly rolls by, ignoring the babies

in their shaded strollers. Don't you want

something for nothing? Haven't you suffered?

Haven't you bean beaten down, condemned

like a tenement, gone to bed hungry, along?

Sit on a stone bend and dig deep for it,

touch your thumb to the greased metal wheel.

Call it a gift from the gods of fire.

Call it your due.

Russian Roulette

by Rachel Epstein

We do this not because we wish to die,

that our body be buried beneath the earth,

for sunlight to never touch our skin.

We do this for the feeling,

the flow of intoxicating energy,

through our blood soaked veins.

To circumvent death,

that would truly be something.

As we turn the barrel over in our hands,

contemplating who will go next.

There is only a small chance that a life will be,

swept away tonight.

Pull the trigger, and pray

that it’s not you.

Bed Time

Bed Time – Nicole Penn

You close your eyes

And play back your day

As if it was your last

Reviewing and judging every word

Every action

You said

You think you were too loud

But those are the bulldozers that are plowing your mind

Shoveling away the brutal parts of your day

The rocks and the gravel

Move to the side

And out of the corner of your eye

You spot a diamond

Amongst the rock

That moment

Where you made eye contact

With him

During the day

Where your stomach

Sank

You may have thought you day was bad

But that diamond just saved your sleepless night

From being

That of a sleepless day

16.

16. by Michael Glück

to let go
the thrift of days

to set down
between fork and knife
the little you have
even that little
to share

two scoops of flour
that day are
more than two

a plate for the absent one

the glass turns
memory

stand the table on its die
it's a door
the stranger crosses the threshold

16. by Oliver Hunt

to forgive

the last dance

to watch

what is forgotten

fall through the cracks

while you remain

alone

the wine

that night

flows smoother

glasses raised

for those remembered

a carpet stained

with history

open the window

a portal

memories flood in

with a breeze

Gracehoper

Gracehoper by Jake LiBassi

Gabriel and I were exploring,
on our own.
Just us and mother nature.
Mother nature had graced our presence
in the form of a grasshopper.
Gabriel was intrigued,
because he had never seen anything of the sort.
His anxiety caused him to attack,
in a friendly manner.
The harmless grasshopper laid crushed
in the infant hands of young Gabriel.
He meant no harm,
he was a gentle giant to now deceased grasshopper.
Gabriel understood what had happened,
and brought mother nature to his chest,
in sorrow.

Gracehoper by Peter Waldor

Gabriel and I collecting

nut shells of beech nuts

when a poor young

grasshopper crossed

our path, Gabriel

tried to touch it

but his baby fingers

were too much

for the beast

and it expired,

its antennae and red eyes

went slack

and the green

sheen turned dull.

Gabriel brought the corpse

to his chest and whispered.