October Poetry Compilation
By Stephanie Ma
“BEN IS YOUR TYPICAL GENTLEMAN”
Ben is your typical gentleman , Ben is innocent at first glance
Ben has a good job and neat home, He’s a good bloke
He’s gentle with cats, smiles and thanks the lethargic baristas
He opens the doors and lets you in first
Ben is the most common of men
And Ben like so many men on Sundays went to, morning mass
And as he looked at crass on MTV, He developed the creed
That like white and brown bread, There’s 2 types of female
And his gaze is righteous judge of moral scale
Because Ben is the most common of men
Ben is in love with the first type of bread, White, pure and mute
Veiled in light blue Smells of motherhood And virginity
And skin on which sin as not yet been
That skin
That skin
Ben’s creed loves that skin, Because he has power over it
The skin of the holy Mary, He can fuck sanctity out of it
And cover it with Tar , Ben is covered in Tar
And like dogs he feels emancipated, When he covers god with it
Ben is the most common of men
Tar is sinless on his skin
But not on anybody else
But Ben is a good lad, He smiles at you on the tube
During the morning commute
The carriage is always filled, With the second type of bread
Some of them are reading, On those honoured pages
They are dripping in tar
Their skin proud and unbothered enrages Ben
And he thinks they don’t deserve to be
They are Impure, promiscuous and free
Glitter on their eyes de-conforming , Torturing the light blue veils
Ripped thighs smelling putrid , Obscene and decomposing
It’s the Tar that only Bens can smell
Ben is the most common of men
And tar lives nowhere
But in the eyes of a good lad
Untitled
By Ruby Fuller
Sometimes love does not have to be all encompassing.
If the love you are experiencing serves you as you need it to, then accept it. Some love serves our needs now but as our needs and wants change so does the value we place on that love. And one does not need to justify that themselves.
Don't try to feel pain that is not there.
Your love is not defined by how ready you are to leave or how sad you are to be without that person. If anything, the idea of “good” and “bad” are ultimately limiting. The perception of a relationship of either good or bad does not have to relate to how you respond to its ending; you can miss a “bad” relationship or be ready to leave a “good” one.
It is not selfish to know you will be okay without someone. But it is selfish to love someone to only keep them from a world without you. A healthy relationship (to me) is one in which partners not only truly trust each other but also trust the universe. To have your person means you share an appreciation for one another’s personal legend.
Life can one day be as fulfilling without them as it was with them despite the temporary pain of adjusting to separation. Do not choose a relationship simply because it could be a conventionally compatible one, or because it was once right for a past version of yourself. Honor your growth, and your freedom of choice.
“Penelope’s Quest to Wonderland”
By Ali Ashhar
Brisk sun rays touch the far horizon
as Penelope seeks radiance for her soul;
she vows to escape the withered realm.
The flight to wonderland is all set to depart,
walking through the isle of faith
Penelope makes her way to the window seat.
She peeps into the morning sky which makes her
reminiscent of the old waves
rippling aside the shores
unto this day—
Chasing perfection:
she was escaping from herself
hearing opinions;
she was numb of her own voice.
After giving umpteen save-my-soul voices
to the cluttered galaxies,
the universe of pain conspires
a rendezvous with her own melody.
The horizon on the
outskirts of wonderland greets her spirit.
The morning sun turns
fervent for Penelope;
for this morning alone was longer
than the bygone era.
In the wonderland—
the serene breeze
serenades the peripeteia of the play as
her persona is embraced by
the internal luminance eternally.
“JOE BIDEN’S AMERICA.”
By crockettcuddlecoreslintlover@gmail.com
Listen,
Joe Biden,
anything can be used as a weapon
anything can be used as a heart if you use it
Joe Biden, you’ll have to volley a hacky sack
10 times in the dark if
you want certain things attached to your body
feel this battle cry bitch
I’m taking this home with me;
This needle
You can literally feel this long ass needle go into your face
I’m called Armadillo Justice, Night Move Justice,
from the tribe of LactoseAndTolerant
Ever felt the power of G.O.D. and ADHD on your side?
It’s ineffable, goodness, sir.
Joe Biden, you’re gonna have to suck the
snot out of all the baby heads in America, one day,
to show a higher head than many taller a candidate
You gotta start a sexline, late at night, 45 minutes
with the president paid free, for all the lonely haters,
or you better start using sharper language at the podium,
and have everyone in the military be over 6-foot-5, and
incite better violence so the next victim’s perpetrator has
a full head of hair, and the next judge to view the perpetrator
better at least fall in love
‘cause it’s impossible to sound
good on the phone and good in real life
you just gotta say things people’ll like all the time–
we do that till we die.
And rarely do we get to say something really bad,
even for no reason,
so I guess this is what you would call focus, or
focusing on the one thing everything causes you to think about,
this life like Ritalin if it had itself taken Ritalin
Joe Biden, the next mass shooter better have a good jawline
Joe Biden, I don’t want more peace,
I want everything just sexier
“Autumnal Rage, at work”
i show up an hour early, and wonder
how you do it every day. a touch on the
shoulder, so light it could have been a
butterfly resting for a moment. you point out
that I am turning 24, not being 23
i can’t look into your eyes
because I feel it in my chest, but today
I dare myself and
remember that your eyes are as grey as the sky has been the last few days. Steve
comes in and says something to you.
i can’t hear. it makes you silent and angry
like the dull red leaf stuck to my
shoe, and even though I
have to leave early I let the space between us exist until you ask me about
my coffee, erasing it as if it never
happened