with love and sinewy words he slid into their minds
and killed everyone with their own love
no one gets out alive
a dream of unity and peace
turned horrifying with just a drink
the choice is not ours, its out of our hands
drink the potion
we will not leave our land
with lies and crocodile tears
he proclaimed living is much more difficult
let death come kiss your lips
with the taste of grape flavor-aid
and a cyanide embrace
feed the children first
and then take your taste
as long as there is life there is hope
a lone woman claimed
hope was beaten in the jungle
by logical insanity
process of elimination
quiet and polite head games
don't panic
go and stand in line
its better to die in a revolutionary way
then to die slowly every single day
the babies are screaming cause their scared
they feel no pain
don't cry for your sister
you might see her again
relax
drink drink drink
get on with the dying
everyone outside will pay
and with thanks his people
choked down the poisonous brew
and with his ill logic their death ensued
be calm death is a friend
it comes in doses and our babies go first
self pro-claimed God
says he is responsible for the death of assistance and imagined salvation
we can not go back
they will massacre our children
die with a degree of dignity
don't die with pain and agony
die with grace
die for me we have no choice
this is our only choice
tired amens float through on cries of the children
free at last, free at least
there is enough for you and me
we made enough of this Jonestown tea
death death death must be dignified
a quiet rest
on the breath of the lips of an intoxicated man
who imploded
spoon feed unholy hope in a desolate land
and the children still scream over the soft murmurs
that soothe
no more pain
no more pain
take a drink
death is sleep
you all are just sheep
and they thanked him for his love and goodness
thank you dad for this death in this foreign land
and he urged them into the unknown darkness
hurry hurry
don't fail to follow my advice
you will regret it
we all must die
and they do
children first
silence of death is heavy
and he didn't drink any
just a quiet peaceful death he urged
just
a quiet
peaceful death

Shiver baby come closer and let me love you

Hush honey let me make it all better

With a kiss here

And here

And I won't forget there

There now isn't that better?

Come sit on my lap love and I will tell you story

Whispered right into your ear

About a girl who loved a boy and how she loved him dear

She loved him so much she consumed him from toe to ear

You see baby love can be a complicated thing

It can make the needy full and bring the full to starving

Oh my little baby doll don't be frightened

Shhhhh let mama soothe

Nestle into my bosom I promise not to confuse

Sweetness, love is brutal and oh so beautiful

Put your head on my chest, closer

Now closer still

Mamas' good lil baby come on in and get your fill

This girl loved this boy

From the inside out

His beauty was world renowned

All the ladies loved him, but he wouldn't settle down

And then they met one night

Toe to toe, eye to eye

Did they kiss?ÿ Oh no baby not right away

They ate each other up in such a way

That brought those around them into silence

And made the others look away

What passed between them stopped the hearts of many

And sealed some souls cold

This lust was dangerous, ancient and old

Hungry and in love... yes sweetie I said love

They went home together that very night

Moon light lit them up as they professed eternity, love and all that was wrong and right

Hush now sweetie, this is where the going gets good....

Get on your knees boy so this is understood

She loved him true and thru

And he loved her; this obsession was needle bright and new

They formed a union covered in adoration and moonlight

Untouchable to others and filled with wanton need

Tangled clothes and hair, no slice of skin untouched, no breath forsaken

Under the stars in the velvet of night teeth glinted arms opened and...

Blood was spilled

In love and lust dill death did they part, but not before dress and mouth was torn

Ran asunder hearts beating like thunder bringing pleasure and agony

They say it was consumption brought on by physical bliss and loves first kiss

Hunger led by a primal need to own, taste and be lost in the flesh of the other

Nothing was left, not even marrow in their bones

Everything was scattered gleaming white and cold

Laughter could be heard and moans of delight

Oh my sweetness.... Did I give you fright?  So sorry baby so so sorry

Hush love come here, let mama soothe

It's almost done honey, you got nothing to lose

With screams and sighs their tortured lovely lust shook the night

The moon turned her head and the very earth gave and opened up with a cry

Mountains quaked and people turned in their beds uneasy with images of

Blood and sex mangled and needy in their heads

Sweetheart, the love... it was there... you can still taste it in the air

They burned baby, they burned so bright

Lit the fire with a single glance created a ticking bomb with a simple dance

And in the end nothing was left, but whispers on the wind and bone dust in the earth

Except this story of a girl who loved boy and how he loved her back

Oh my pretty baby cant you see

How Cupid shot his arrow so true

Left nothing but a tale of ancient dangerous lust for me and you

Darlin understand this if nothing else

Lust and love... they will eat up alive

Hahaha oh yes...

Eat you up alive

Thank You

by Tawnee Martinez

Thank you for the brutal reality

The tight rope of sanity

Thank you for violence

The silence

That quiet quivering slobbering

Madness

   Clarity is not docile

It burns and freezes

Aching shaking shrieking

Thank you for the prayers of the humble

Asking for peace and pain

  (Didn't you know they are one and the same?)

Thank you for the hate

The shame

The ugly head of humanity

  It is not me

I am not you

The lessons you have taught me

I use as a muse

  So I can look you square in the eyes

Take your pretty face in my hands

And whisper my favorite words…

Fuck

You

It's a cold hard world outside so they say.  The weak get eaten; you are either the predator or the prey.

Son, I am here to tell you that humanity doesn't have to be viewed that way. 

You have choice. 

Wrong or right. Lie down or fight. Live or Die.   

Solution, Revolution it's about movement in a positive forward motion.

Master or slave, own your soul or decide to be a victim to the grave. 

Brown skin is not a prerequisite for a criminal mind. 

You can leave all that preordained condemnation behind.

Fighting the man and his master plan; blaming the institution because some choose to cower instead of stand. 

YOU ARE = I AM 

Nothing is more potent than a secure man.

Baby don't you see the power in simplicity? Knowledge truly is the key of ending unnecessary suffering.

Understanding the world that surrounds you learning that mediocrity is not grand. 
Slothful way, youthful haze, compassion can happen if you choose to walk that way.

Be aware son that you own this life your thoughts, your actions and your words...

This is the very definition of the word MINE.

Dust your shoulders off and stand TALL son.  Stand Proud.  Baby... just stand. 

Do not live a life on your knees begging please gimmie a dime, gimmie a sign gimmie a death on the breath of some one else's lie.

You are not a sheep being lead to the slaughter

You are not a lemming leaping off a cliff into the water

You are the key this life is not a facade. 

It's in your heart and soul; it's the truth of brown eyes and long stemmed fingers

Be the solution not a contribution to the widespread flaws of socities matarialistic cause. 

Question everything and see the potential in the word IF

Ponder right and the wrong, the greater good the special elite and deprived few. 

Your mind is powerful.

Your heart is capable of great things.

Choices my love.  In the end it's all up to you. 

Own and respect yourself, your life is yours.  Your actions and thoughts solely yours.

They are something that no one can buy or sell.  

They cannot be taken,

Sweet heart I know you are more than just a worker bee.

Bigger than our socail acceptance of medoricity 

You are a power unto yourself. 

I can only pray as your mother that you will some day see and grow up to be free.

Wanting as a mother more for you than I had for me

Be proud my son.

Be wise,

The House Waits

 by Jean Thompson

After dad passed on

mom moved away

from the house she lived in for 61 years

that I lived in for 21

my five brothers until college graduation

The house sits empty now

electricity is off 

heat off

water off 

The concrete steps to the porch

wait for the next family 

starting from scratch 

first theyʼll have two kids,

then four, maybe even seven

in a parish where

every day at noon

Catholic church bells toll

I imagine you, in my house

messy and loud

boys in bunk beds

girls in the middle room

mom and dad up front

On the only bathroom door

you will add to our dents

banging and yelling let me in

kicking hurry up hurry up

forgetting until it is your turn

behind the rattling door

that you can

bathe, brush

pee and poop

only so fast

The truth is

like the six of us

you dawdle to stay behind

this only door with a lock 

thanking the parish God

with the bell

for your twice daily allotment

of alone-ment

Like me you may hide

in closets

under beds

behind tall shelves in the basement

but

it is not a house

or a neighborhood for privacy.

From the house next door

you will smell hamburger helper

three nights a week with ground beef

four with hot dogs

Through windows not your own

youʼll see and hear

bottoms and faces being slapped 

stern looks

gritted teeth

silent groans

slammed doors

hot tears

From the house behind

you'll almost be able to taste

ink from the morning newspaper

wafting in the steam of their hot coffee

feel the dull ceramic tap of the mug

left dirty on their laminate countertop

Every morning

from houses south, north, and east

alarm clocks chiming at 4:45, 5:30, 5:50

will wake you up

But donʼt worry

in time you get as used to them

as you are

 to your own

 We are placed on this
earth to sing

by Daniel McKenna

50 ain’t old

by Phil Cerdorian   12/05

_____Come to love_____

by Phil Cerdorian   10/07

Chad

by Phil Cerdorian   11/07

He sits in a pile of rubbish
It doesn’t concern him
Only three things do
Internet, music and movies
His hair its down to his shoulders
I don’t know if he showers
Fast food wrappers everywhere
Clothes,cups and plates cover the floor
Its too much effort to take them through the door
Heavy metal guitar heroes grace his walls
He’s got a blanket covering up his window
That lets in all that nasty early morning sun.

I wake him on school mornings
“ Are you up yet Chad?”
A groan comes up from the bowels of the house.
He makes it to school
He makes it to work
He pays some of his bills
Lately he’s less of a jerk
He’s 16 you see
So we will wait a few years
For his brain to catch up
For his heart to mature
Chad is just Chad
If we can love right now
Some day he’ll go out
and make us all proud

A Doom of One's Own

by Ellen A. Wilkin

Website:  Where there's a will, there's a watt

The tremendous strength of a V-8 engine makes
the ground tremble beneath 48-inch wheels.
The truck’s sleek black sides boast a silver strip:

“Power body-color, heated, power-folding outside mirrors ith driver-side auto-dimming, integrated turn-signal indicators and curb-tilt”

that flashes in the morning sun.
Sudden silence cuts the air as the engine chokes off.
A clean click! and a side door opens

(“Electric rear-window defogger, emote keyless entry, Ultrasoft leather-appointed seats, Leather-wrapped steering wheel with
adjustable tilt-wheel steering column,
AM/FM stereo with MP3-compatible
CD player and auxiliary jack, Cruise control”)

Revealing the creature within.
It swings its bulk on the seat placing its feet carefully
on the ground
And stands
It would be well over 6-foot tall if it stood up straight,
but it’s back is bent forward and its shoulders round over,
and its arms hang limply at its sides
It closes the door and pads slowly into the café

In moments it returns.
It has a large, full-caff, full fat latte in its fat hand.
It trudges back to its silver streaked steed,

(“4-wheel antilock brake system, Front independent coil-over-shock suspension,
Autotrac™ two-speed transfer case (4WD),
Heavy-duty 600 CCA battery, Aluminized stainless steel exhaust, Hydroformed front frame, Power steering, Semi-elliptical 2-stage multileaf rear suspension, Heavy-duty Z85 Handling/Trailering suspension package”)

Climbs in,
And sets the engine aroar.

The truck pants excitedly
Over the sidewalk,
Then, with precision gearing,
Slips into reverse,
”The force to get you going in the first place,”
And rumbles away,
Carrying it’s invalid on
”The power to keep you going”
In temperature-controlled comfort.
An inert cocoon.
That does not transform it’s occupant.

But with

“Front bucket seats with 10-way power driver and front passenger seat adjusters, two-way power lumbar support, power bolsters, heated seat cushions and seatbacks and
two-position driver memory,”

It merely preserves them as they fade away,
Doing their walking and breathing,
Providing constant shelter from sun,
Wind, and social air,
And keeping them safe from impact:

(“Dual front air bags with right-front
Passenger Sensing System, Illuminated driver and passenger sliding visors
Manual single-zone air conditioning”)

Holding them until their bodies turn to mush,
And their motors begin to fail,
And then it becomes the hearse and the coffin
When they can no longer climb out,
Preserving them beneath the ground
When chilled air no longer does the trick.

Lawn Mower Man

by Ellen A. Wilkin

Standing Still

by Ellen A. Wilkin

 I’m standing still on the corner
Along a track going one way,
Watching the shotgun cars, buses and trucks.

From a still position they are blurs.

How strange to think
That I was a blur, too,
When I rushed the hour.
How silly to buzz by
Not even knowing what the corner looked like!

Hey, there is a tree here
And on its branch
A squirrel annoys a jay.
And a tidy cottage garden
Lies beyond that gate.

I’m standing still
With all possible directions
At my feet
Isolated in my indecision,
But unique in my observation.
I know where I am going
I just haven’t gotten there yet.
I am taking my time,
Waiting,
Stepping aside from
The spin of others
And making myself uniquely alone.

Untitled

by Ellen A. Wilkin

 Could be gettin’ caught at a traffic light
When we’re already late,
But instead we’ve spread this checkered cloth
Over ripe grasses.

Could be slammin’ down greasy one-stop-burgers
When we already have indigestion.
But the world around us drops away.
’Cause we created this patch of green grass and blue sky.

I brought the Shakespeare,
You brought the Frisbee.
We toast to shared sonnets
Under a shade tree,
Then fly with the flashing saucer
Laughing in the face of the sun.

If we strained our ears
We could hear
The honking of horns.
But why should we
When the birds sing our song
In the branches above our heads,
And we don’t even have to notice to listen?

Something About a Tree

by Ellen A. Wilkin

There is collapsing of energies together,
A brilliance like thought
About a tree and a young girl
Climbing.
The smell of green,
The roughness of tree skin below soft hands
The toughening of a young body
Against the coarseness of age
And the protection offered
By an ancient one.

Fear of Flight

Swing

Suburban Slumber

The Defining Winter

by Ellen A. Wilkin