Poetry Collection no.1

Infinite Horizon
By Mario Donato
Nothing is lost forever—when we are connected to a timeless sublime. Yet, in this world we’re certain to find a painful crescendo tempered by the caress of infinite rain, and a longing for what we left behind. These everlasting memories harken us back to the sweet melodic sounds of inner youth. Oh such laughter hunkered and hushed away—suddenly awakens from the darkened theater spiraling between past and future, coddled between the birth and death of a star’s eternal light—Ensconced between trifle noise and philosophical quietude—between the breadth and depthless sea of wonder, like the resonance of dreams that rift along with the wind and skim across the ocean waves inexhaustibly…

I believe in depthless—The evocative essence for measuring life’s sustenance, the metric for inner peace, for escape, for liberation and the acumen for finding answers to eternal mysteries without yielding or bound to fear—I believe in the intimate yearnings within our soul that whisper or shrieks in affirmation, to escape from prosaic places and discover a more romantic world. Oh, strange and beautiful worlds are copious in abundance in our every day lives—yet elusive. Hence, the golden metric, is all the more precious because of its elegant trajectory.

By focusing on a single strand, just a sliver of a memory, evokes an infinite horizon towards the map of human story. It recalls a point when the golden illusions of youth have vanished into a firmament of gossamery-like dreams. It transcends into a universal vision of the human condition. Not a private complaint about life’s injustice but rather a tender if heartbreaking expression of transient beauty and the grief of mortality. The profound balance of power between responsibility and acceptance—our faith to trudge on, our passion to live. The promises and commitments we build upon the layers of our being catapult us to paramount awakenings within us. Who are we in our perpetual quests, and so inclined to feel? Giving a blazing blade of hope and a ring of glory to victorious gentle hands. Help remind us that ashes are glory, tears are healing, fire is a wound; and the wound is a door. Perhaps time’s hard-won wisdom is rooted in a difficult experience: In a time after time, in a place after place, in a world within words and within worlds. In memories from another time, another place, long ago seeks the infinite horizon to the human story—our own.

Dearly Departed
By Marlina Gutierrez
Though I have been dearly departed
Life is not far from me
Where you remain in my heart
Keep me company tonight
Warm my bones
Sing me the songs I once sang
Offer me a drink
Tell me the stories I loved to hear
The night is full of joy
As you have not forgotten me
The light from the candles
Flicker on the face I still remember
Marked by the days gone by
How I can recall the time we spent together
Those moments I know you yearn for too
It will not be long, my love
Before you will depart too
And eternity will be ours to keep

Knowledge Frees

By Courtney Doucette

I begin to set fire to all of my books

and watched all the knowledge turn into a hoax

the hoax turned to smoke

the smoke turned around

then put all the knowledge back into the ground

You Are What You Eat
By Courtney Doucette
The meat is cooking
so tender and fresh
yummmmm whats what were smelling?!
oh, its our own flesh

Hold
By Yanet Cortez

As it flows out, it enters

through the windows of

his soul.

He hears with his ears,

but listens with

his heart

as you watch

his eyes

absorb every word as though

it will slip away from

his grasp

something so intangible

turned into something

physical, real

CV Sluts
By Kristine Winters

Sleep with the same men,

Loiter the same bars

On pitch-black nights with shooting stars

We grasp fleeting passion,

In the back of their cars.

Then we stagger back inside,

Watch the same shitty band

We’ve seen twenty times.

I laugh because I’m better than you

I cry because I’m not.

To so many friends whom we’ve said good-bye

Salty tears lance my eyes

-Fast as I can I turn my face,

Can’t let you see me cry

I’m so jealous of your escape.

Dare I speak aloud?

The intent of my heart?

This valley holds us together

As our lives fall apart.

Because you see:

No bottle I can empty

Or pills I can take

Will unclench my pride,

Or let me look at you

Face to face.

Cowering behind the written page

Cleverly hidden,

In the spotlight on stage:

A pathetic gesture that permits me to say:

I love you too.

Nathaniel
By Fatima Felix

He reminds me of my innocence. And when I remember my innocence I begin to feel like a horrible person. Look at who I am, at what I’ve become. Something I didn’t want to be is what I’ve become. And I ask myself, “what happened?” And I answer myself, “you know perfectly well.” But when I think about it, I still haven’t completely lost my innocence and there might be hope after all.

The Night Stirs
By Da’vidGR
The Night stirs itself awake. Barraged by an endless torrent of wind. Platelletes stand on gaurd awaiting the oncoming season. There’s not enough meat to go around. The Night is thin and cold. Communication was lost when we cut out our tongues and let fear devour our thoughts of pleasure. Was Love so distant that we could not catch up? Was the pain so consuming that we could not tear ourselves away? The pressure holds me beating my temples against cement blockades in an effort to unravel the anguish of yesterday. Futile attempt at erasing the accumalating Karma, in this vast landscape of mind. Cold, dark berated by the endless torrent of thoughts, aching for Love at the end of a stick. The Night stirs itself awake. Perhaps this night holds the gem that Hope has longed to find.

Norma Gene
By Christian Alvarez
Uhh..try to knock at least on the window or throw lil stones or “whooty hoo” or something…
sorry I was on your roof making dreams and wheres, like where we could go..like run off to
oh and
saved you a splendid pineapple pie slice
just a tiny gesture ant hill size soon to be mole hill’d and then mountainous, that is
less sensibilities have there way n keep me from you..
bet you this tho
one of these days I’ll be using the doorbell respectable hour of course and even threshold crossed
I bet you have a blue couch…no grey and you will kiss me fair and tell my lips they taste of pine apples
member that watch I got you at the fair..? the pink one? it ticks heartbeats… I’ll be back some later and uni will scape lands and tighten our grip
g’nite fer now norma.

1000 Silk Flowers
By Christina Quinn

Somewhere off the west coast of Malaysia

swallowed by the sky

not a tracer

not one thing remains

fathers weep for lost lives

mothers question why

we simply thank god & stars & such

we are here

still grounded

while 239 spread their wings

in never ending flight