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Poems For February Edition

Photo by Kristina Paukshtite from Pexels


By Patrick Cao


The only hood I knew was on my sweater

But my life wasn’t good and never got better

I grew up in the grass but fell in the lot

Every day I was gunned down but never got shot

The views of others are what I was shown

Life was destiny but never my own

A slave to the last name

I wanted to blast flames on past fame

But disappointment is worse than death

I’d please my folks even if it meant breathing my last breath

I’ll be the golden child

Live forever mild, die never wild

And fulfill the path never navigated

By those who are agitated

And can’t realize their clown dream

Is meant for sleep, not downstream

Where their children will pick up broken pieces

And ask why the kitchen hung Jesus

If no one ever prayed

But wanted their priests to be paid?

They claimed I was Cain but I am Abel

Since I didn’t hide the truth like gum underneath the table

But since you never knew the feeling

I was found hanging from the ceiling 


Photo by Evie Shaffer from Pexels

On All Fronts

By Patrick Cao

Preachers are killing teachers

By unleashing creatures 

Of mass destruction


And words of crass construction.

But dreamers will fall 

For schemers who call

Out their fears

And claim it’s a career.

Let the socialist

Believe in hocus-pocus.

Let the capitalist

Die the nationalist. 

Let the Democrat 

Act rat but play cat.

Let the Republican

Restrict publishing.

Let the young 

Destroy lungs.

Let the old

Think they’ve been told.

Nothing will be done

If something is to be won.

Those that fight for freedom

Want their supporters to be dumb

And never have their questions released:

“Do those that speak the most, know the least?”

Thoughts Before Bed

By Patrick Cao


Forever, I thought I was all game and no gimmick

//Ashley Diaz

Never have I fought for a tall name to mimic 

But life started to make me question

Is my wife regarded as my best friend?

Or is she waiting on my tomb to arrive

To start dating the groom that made her alive?

Are my children looking up to me because I’m their father?

Or am I a villain cooking up the next greatest author

Who only knew success from involuntary pain

And skewed progress with monetary gain?

I have no clue why I’m going through this metamorphosis

I’m turning into glue asking whose horse is this?

I can’t sleep until I’m dead

I’m too deep into this bed


// Photo by from Pexels


By Ashley Diaz

How can you call what we had love,

When love does not hurt you.

Love puts a blanket around your shoulders when you’re cold,

Love makes you soup when you’re sick, 

Love rubs your shoulders after a long day,

Love  holds your hands when they’re shaking.

And love, so warm and true, 

Would never break up with you over text message.

(Untitled #2)

By Ashley Diaz

The love I gave you I took back

Watered my garden with it

Drowned my flowers in respect, forehead kisses and absolute adoration


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(Untitled #3)

By Ashley Diaz

I fear judgement from strangers,

I fear words that have never been said;

And may never even be thought

I fear so deeply being disliked.

But for you, my love, 

I’ll let the whispers wrap around me 

Like a pretty dress on a spring day

I’ll let the looks and scoffs 

Walk me down the aisle 

As I make my way to you.

The only place I never felt fear.


Photo by Kristina Paukshtite from Pexels


By Alexis Norman

Pupils dilated.

I can hardly.

Ever so slimly.

See the brown of your eyes

I love your brown eyes.

They make me smile

You know the smile.

It makes you smile.

Then we look in each other’s eyes.

And laugh.

And ever so slimly.

Collapse on each other

Eyes to the stars.

Head to shoulder.


Conflict (A Ghazal)

by Ignacio Leon

I ride alone on this desolate road

Deviating avenues distract me from this destined road

The wind blows my hair, the sun beats down

As I continue on this proverbial road

Sights and sounds dominate the landscapes

As my senses direct me on this colorful road

Yet the hunger persists, penetrating my bowels

Time, enough on this monotonous road

As I flirt with my idols and my loneliness

Suddenly, nothingness paves my road

The fears of failure–no, Iggy, snap out of it

It will be you, only you, that shall dominate this road


Independently Attached: 75 Years 

Photo by Djurdjina ph.djiz from Pexels

By Layla A Williams

You have grown veins beneath your aged skin now fragile

Droopy drops of caramel hang below your lush brows still

My love

You make your way steadily across the hardwood

Brittle arms rattling hazily,

Feet scooting at your patient pace

Your compass, a cup of chai

5 sugar cubes with half a spoonful of honey

In shaky fingertips

The ones that traced the outline of my being

For as long as I can remember

I sit,

Write of palm trees and coconuts I can never eat

Of you in everything I see

And feel

Frozen evergreens outside our front porch

Hummingbirds and sperm whales

Glass doors covered by frost

Toasty flames warming my slowly beating breast

The one you’ve rested your head on all these years

All these decades

Through each creation and death of a star

300 seasons with you

And many more to come

My love

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