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February

This month’s theme was love, passion and heartbreak.

“Taco Bell” by Grace Mason

Mon gros , for thine I enslaved, my heart of hearts

With longing more desperate than hell-bound

Pits of desire bellow ‘pon depart

Cravings to taste of thou make me unwound.

Ravaged by the approaching night I chanced

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That I may outrun the daemonic prowl

And perhaps, witness thy’s beauteous trance:

The artificial glow that glows most foul.

But Oh! Struck twelve the fated bells did ring

Doomed to evening ever-lasting I cried

Lord above have mercy, Oh gracious king

Rollback Time’s hands to Ye I have complied

Give me grace, to taste the most divinely

Open thine gates so I can taste of thee


“Rooftop” by Sophia Rozzi

You tore my soul away from me

On the rooftop that night.

You told me that ‘we’ could never be

On the rooftop that night.

You kissed me and I fell in love

On the rooftop that night.

I was thanking all the stars above

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On the rooftop that night.

Until the thorns grew from your lips

On the rooftop that night.

Your hands like daggers slicing my hips

On the rooftop that night.

You kissed me then spat on me and left me for dead

On the rooftop that night.

How could you fill my heart with so much dread

On the rooftop that night.

If I would have known that you would have fled,

I would never have done what I did then

On the rooftop that night.


“Ode to an Old Friend” by Brandon Nguyen

As once in life, be now in death.

From Joyful youth, to labored breath.

From happiness, the undying bliss- and

Laughter, to us his gift.

You, my old friend with solemnity I bring

Heavy hearts and softened sobs: This.

The river, dearest one, for peaceful are the Waters for the

lighthearted.

The trees, weary one, for strong are their limbs for the

Kind spirited.

The shade, loved one, for sheltered be your spirit,

Uplifted.

He who led the most caring of life,

Be now remembered in death-

My Old Friend, you taught me so much more

Than math.

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“Myles” by Nikki Bledsoe

I painted my soul

With the color in your eyes

Dipped my brush

In your ocean irises

With each stroke I lost myself,

One painful layer at a time

Till I was numb,

With the illusion of ecstasy

The once warm, beautiful landscape

Was suddenly ice blue, I needed his coat

Thought the technique

Of my wrist was my own

Thinking the harsh pressure

On the canvas was my own fault

Never realized it was his brush

And our hands were molded

Signed my name on the bottom

Bright red scribble

Forever yours,

My love.


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“One Who Loved” by Grace Walker

There was one who loved.

Who was love, and is love, and in love, pours

An overflow, deep endless store.

And it lands,

Silent drops

On the ugly things bellow.

And it lands,

Silent drops

That could make them beautiful.


There was one who loved.

And the love gave way.

For when the drops hit the ground

Every pound

Said “come away.”

And a sound like singing, from the higher hill

Came down as a whisper

“It’s deeper still.”


But the ugly things bellow

Have their ears to the floor.

And they shake their swollen heads and laugh,

And leer and bask in simple jeers.

“Deeper than the earth?” they ask,

“What depth is worth dying for?”


And the things bellow went to and fro

Went on their merry way

With rotting mouths and holes in hearts

That whittle and fritter away.

Sometimes they poke and prod the holes

Like they’re a guessing game.

And ask again to their peeling core,

“What to man is worth dying for?”


And the one who loved pours out again

With agony and tears.

And the one who loved gave the answer

He’d been pondering for years.

The Highest made the lowest,

from a throne to a cave,

The King of Kings living as a slave.

As a slave down to hunger,as a slave down to thirst,

As a slave down to love and to love among the worst.


How he pleaded, How he bled!

How He lived among the dead!

Still pleading pleading pleading

Pleading to the ugly things

“Let me show you! Let me show you!”

“Let me show you what you mean!”

And they spit and they tore

And He forgave and they swore

“Save yourself!” they rave they rave

“Save yourself if you can save!”


But the one who loved was quiet.

The one who loved was still.

The one who loved knew full well

He’d die upon the hill.


And even as he took up

All the creature’s graves,

Even as they beat and beat

and raved and raved and raved,

Never did he whisper,


“It’s you I’m here to save.”

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