Baby by Chris Vasquez

Forever I'll miss the part of myself that died in the reign of battle to escape the torment I placed upon myself.

I'll miss the doubt that allowed me to question all the actions taken were ever worth just the sacrifice.

I miss the vulnerable child who fell gullible to deception yet still kept hope.

I'll never forget the bastard child who saw life as content still questioning who he identified as...

How young naive and foolish he was... im still skeptical to think it was okay to be such a burden.

I said goodbye to the hypercrite who laughed amongst the crowd but weeped in silence... knowing it was all just an act.

As I burned the silent soul who only whispered truth but spoke lies to the universe... I step upon his ashes and blew him into world he once feared.

And the award goes to...
the boy who thought beauty could be bought...
He knew damn well his scars could never be covered up, when he secretly Despised himself knowing he was ugly only on the inside...

Takes more than a price to fill in the cracks he broke into,

How is it possible I allow such a pathetic form of human live inside me without charging interest,  with the flaw of just being unexplainable...

But yet I miss him... without him,  id be just one sick son a bitch with no excuse of why I am the way that I am.

I'd be the desperate. vindictive,  split image of my own self who thrives on the attack of self humiliation...

Im sorry,  but truth be told... He wasnt worth that much of my attention to cater too.

To the lost boy... Cheers,   may you find happiness in your crossover...
Respect our separation and move on... in time you'll realize all you've brought me was a shadow of doubt and hatred...

Walk away now and find contentment in a life too perfect for neither of us...

Be grateful I gave you the privilege to die and set you free,

Remember how many others selfishly hold on to a past of regret, burry into doubt of the present...
And never see a future because there stuck living with the past.
Thank me later baby.

Can't Deal Anymore

Lay your head on my shoulder and ill catch your tears
tell me your fears and ill protect you my dear
but don't take my advice and fuck me twice that just isn't nice right so I'll give up my might and go on with out spite!!

Control

This feeling that I have going through my veins is unexplained,
Pain is not to blame its more like confusion that I can't seem to tame.
Tired of this game things aren't the same. Just want this feeling to be tamed...this feeling running through my veins is insane.

The Communist Father by Ka'Mone Felix

Let us speak of fathers
of mine
Of the way he holds highway to sleeve when he trusts in running
Of the way he drives
Both hands to the steering wheel
Pulse to leather
All racetrack eulogy and crying man
Of tough.
Of soft and tough.
Like daddy's should be.

I am his first born
With a tongue like his mother's
And his laugh.
Guttural battle
yawning laugh
Open hearted and stolen.
We laugh
Like happiness is paperweight to be found
And lost again
Like pebbles
Quaking in the belly of
A 1920's medusa
Tendrils outstretched
Waiting for allah to swallow the fingerprints
Bent at the torso
Knee slapping and careful

He is
The quietest man I've known to date
Red flag of a tongue
Opinions
Filtered into bolts of honest
For his daughters
He tells me
That once
When he almost couldn't control his words
(And this is da
This never happens)
He let his anger
All manifest and corrosion of it
Drive him to canada
In less than 24 hours
Foot to pedal
Because engine knows control
Engine knows heartbreak
And break down
And tune up
And creak and fold
Knows control
Knows everything he wants me to know

I know
More than he thinks I know
I know
That he is a man
Who is not afraid
Just too aware
His daughters
Will always be the pages of the prayer book
That have remained untouched
Even when they've been touched too hard

He will not believe.
He is too good.
Too honest.
Too deity.
Too aware to believe in such treachery
To believe that for once
Driving will not make it go away
For once
There is no engine to sputter
At the grunt of a bad turn
He’s had more cars
Than he’s had children
But understands now,
That the three of us are what will last.

Maya is his youngest
His second daughter
She is still a baby
Only milk mouthed and
Spittle gums
She barely knows me
Can identify the spill of my cheekbones
In photographs
And calls me some resemblance of "keemoan"

When she is older
She will understand how proud I am to know
That we share the same father
That there is nothing different of my childhood with him
We will both know of
Shoulders
Of moon touching
And the pierced ear of his rebel days
Of Guerilla fighting
Of paint brush and charcoal palms
Of oatmeal
and tea
With never enough sugar
Of half face smiles
And of driving.

Minds Going Crazy...(Past)

Just when you thought all was forgotten,

you get hit with a sudden curve ball.

Now dazed and confused you think to yourself, what if, maybe, could it be,... then you sit back and remember all that has happened and you get mad again and say why me.

Things happen for a reason, stop listening to everyone else..live your life... take a chance if you dare... but remember the dance you took. Think long and hard what you think is right... But don't start if your not ready to fight.

Dear Ex-Girlfriend, Learn To Be Bright... by Diamond Wynn

I've always wanted to now what lightening tasted like
and with outstretched jaw, love fell in.

You tasted like silent thunder
and told me, that i couldn't be any closer to sonic boom if i swallowed a firecracker.
So I loved you.

With skin like sandpaper, and razor sharp whit
You helped me realize
i had grown fond of girls with blades.
Only they could love me like i love myself.

Sunshine,

You were all liquid lava graceful
But you never let ash settle on my shoulders
before you got all broom sweep savior.
You promised me,
That you would never let me fall on my back.
Contracted scratches on my back.
You promised me...until you didn't.
And you never knew how to say sorry
So you tried to shove me in your pocket.
But im too much broken spine
from trying to origami myself into your head.

Ozone,

I thought i could fill the holes life bore into you
But I learned there's no cure
for the burn of Ultraviolet kiss.
I just wanted to fix you.
This was selfish of me.
Just because a heart is full of pitter pattter,
doesn't mean its rubber floor, playground proof.
Last night, i opened my chest
to see if the bruises from your boots were gone.
They weren't.
Instead,
Black and Blue shades of you
transformed into personified letters.
A being the meanest, Z being the kindest
this was backwards alphabet perfect.
24 colors, sandwiched between your emotional bookends
reminded me of the times I sat waiting for you to open up
the box i gave you on our first anniversary.
Inside was my pendant soul
dangling from cuff linked love
and you never even bothered to wear it.
I guess stars are too proud to wear the source of their shine around their necks.

Moonlight,

You told me once,
that if i closed my eyes when we kissed,
I could feel the beauty of the Nile River on my bones.
You lied. Those were just your hands.
You were always good at those types of lies.
Honestly,
did you think i was too stupid
to differentiate between the liquid glory of great Queens
and the sweaty palm of a little girl?

Skyline,

You are broken butterfly.
Don't tell me to pray things get better.
It frustrates me.
My pleas will only collect dust in heaven's workshop.
Baby...
Jesus may be a carpenter
But God has arthritis.
His hands fell weak too many wars ago
and when he dipped them in healing waters,
they emerged oil black.
He's a little busy right now.

Women,

Lets just fix this.
We've been unstuck for too many sunsets
and I'm gonna need you to stop calling me Elmer's.

Whats the problem?

You've already branded Amistad on my tongue.
Let's go.
Let go.
Give me my aura back.

Sunshine, Ozone, Moonlight, Skyline

You are not from the heavens
You are no lightening.
You are just girl.
Manufactured in a costume shop called Angels
and since I'm just a girl,
shoulder deep in clouds
you let me raise you pedestal high.
This felt like home to a runaway.
But you are heavy,
My wrists have broken,
and i cant carry lighthouses with broken bulbs.

These efforts are yellow flickers.
This was flashlight love.
The batteries are dead.
Get out of me.

Our short circuit spurts are exhausting.
We are pathetic.

My mother keeps warning me about my obsession with the sky,
but I've always been the type to stick wet fingers in sockets
just because i have a thing for sparks...

Tune Out Mondays-Ani Difranco

Ani Difranco is a powerhouse. She is an out musician and has been performing since the early 90s. She started her own record label, righteous babe records and has produced over 20 album, one of which won a grammy.

Imagine That
http://www.youtube.com/watch#!v=M5VrXTqFtbM&feature=related


Writing prompt: write a poem that is a series of hypothetical statements. Start with the phrase "imagine that" or use if. Imagine that you were a lily or imagine that you lived on the moon...if you didn't turn the corner...

Speak Out Fridays Bryan Safi

http://current.com/shows/infomania/92509862_thats-gay-gay-pride.htm

Bryan Safi reflects on this year's LGBT news topics...what is your reaction to any of these stories? What's your gay new years resolution?