Jacob and Andy

This is the story of Jacob and Andy, but you might be better off calling them nerdy and randy! That is to say: of course they both are both. No better. No worse. Have you heard about the word? Nerd and nerd, this couple's the word.

I remember our first time at make haven, my beard was red, long and unshaven. Under fluorescent lights we rocked out to Dixit, no one cared who won as we played it (except Jacob). There was a moment where Andy's face said nothing but "I want, I like!" That was a random day when she saw me playing Counterstrike. Granted, she's lived most her life living in a gangster's paradise. Or rolling strong with some bluffer's dice.

The other nerd helped me with transistors, I suppose he is therefore quite the assister. And when he dances he loves to gallop as he prances. Maybe I made that bit up, but he certainly moves with a solid strut.

Being a nerd, in case you didn't realize, is pretty much the best, and if you think otherwise, then you're just like all the rest.

These nerds... I owe 'em. Scrawl words, love poems.

Dallas's Party

It's the time of year to give back. So reach on into your santa sack. In this absence of greed, others can feed! You've done what you can: with every donated can. This is about giving, not taking. This holiday is yours for the making! ...alongside gingerbread houses a baking. Inside real houses with tact. Sold by the best, that's a fact.

Can we build a christmas tree? Just take a gander and see! It makes me want to sing! I think I just heard a sleigh bell ring!

GRE Words

When would an opprobrium truly be appropriate? Are onlookers oblivious and obviously obstinate? How about an approbation appropriated by the masses? Would such vindication tacitly pave a process? Some authorities seem apocryphal or similarly awful, so we must be circumspect for what is rightly lawful. It is with probity by which we must proceed, and must not let fallacious corroboration cause us to concede.

Big New Haven Night

Here's to having a big night, a meal in New Haven prepared just right. Friends, family, and food by the score! Music, games, stories and more. We'll have chats, we'll have talks, we'll take time, we'll take walks. We'll retire and recline after we sup, after we dine when we meet up.

Overcoming

Sustainable thoughts.
Our practical goals.
What ever is sought.
Is tangibly told.

Dreams come true
one day at a time.
Honest and shrewd.
Methodical climb.

Whenever we fall,
we have to get up.
We may not be tall.
We may lack that luck.

So we keep striving.
Push, walk, then run.
Soon we'll be thriving
like the rising sun...

Today is dark.
Yesterday: dreary.
Now disembark:
weak and weary.

Face the day,
face the night.
Hear me say:
face your fright.

Stay steady.
Keep on task.
Be ready.
This too shall pass.

Bonnie 2

I can only imagine what it's like to live with a chef and a potential body gaurd who could serve you your death. There's this girl who calls me muffin, or, rather, a woman, and a tough one. 

Once, I blanketed her while sleeping, but she totally knew I was there, and if I didn't know her, she might guess me as creeping and I would surely beware!

She would never roughen me up, unless I went to ask. Then she'd toughen me up, and complete her task. I have great respect for her, after all, she could woop my ass!

She could put my head on a platter, and make it dammed delicious. Some spices here, some garlic there, and I'd be nutritious.

But, that would never happen to me, because I'm on her good side. And it's there with glee that I happily reside, with Bonnie the beast we'll feast with pride.

Kevin Mcguire

If man is 5. And the devil is 6.

Then that must make you Kevin.

Long silky straight brown hair.

With skin so light and fair.

Ha! Yeah right!

There's a tatoo there, there, there, and there.

And they're visibly awe inspiring.

Epically optic, optically epic. Raw perspiring.

Ever been 6 months under water?

Sliced a pig just after the slaughter?

Rocked a baseline while on both knees?

Collected skulls as your trophies?

Cooked blood and baked the slime?

Licked both your lips at the same time?

There isn't anything quite so metal as a forked tongue at work, except maybe listening to metal with spiked ears alert...

You're the strong and silent type,

which comes with baseline confidence.

You're ripped, you're real, you're ripe.

Keep following through due diligence.

Kung fu! Chop, kick, punch!

Chef fu! Chop, slice, lunch!

Seth's Scavenger Hunt

Clues and locations?

Locations. And clues!

Quitters don’t win

...and winners won’t lose.

When the clock strikes midnight,

then this game’s over.

And if you play right...

you might be hungover.

This is a scavenger hunt,

venture a guess!

Don’t be discouraged.

This isn’t a test!

Get to your first spot.

And make it snappy.

The next riddle’s at a lab,

Don’t worry, be happy!

Time is ticking. tic tic tic

And we don’t mean to be rude.

Let’s start walking.

But this’ll get much more lewd. 

--

Thank you, thank you all for coming.
I beg your ears, I must beseech.
And if you’ll have our gracious pardon, Please listen closely to our ending speech.

We’ve been lovely.

But you’re the best.

Does anyone disagree?

That does attest.

You outsmarted riddles, you’re all so clever!
It was worthwhile
in this group endeavor.

This place is a drag,
but that’s just for show. Get watching, get smirking. Let your “feelings” grow! 

An Open Heart

There are so many wounds time does not heal.
And while we understand them logically,
their pain is still bleeding, open and real.
We will have to endure and remember.
Impossible outlooks just seem surreal.
An open heart is a double-edged sword.
Sadness and gladness, the ranges we feel.

The SmartWell Oath

It's the freedom of choice.
Let's enjoy the flavor.
And be truly genuine.
While we sip and savor.

A green alternative.
For you and for me.
It's how we'll persist.
Try once and you'll see.

Electrolytes and vitamins.
Whether hot or cold.
Stay hydrated, stay healthy.
It's better, it's bold.

We've started from scratch.
Create your own soda.
We empower consumers.
Vindicate your Voda!

So, to you who imbibe,
we give you applause.
Let's have a toast:
Here's to the cause!

Fire Water Protection Bubble (poem)

You've seen my face,
wild with joy.
And you've witnessed,
my madness.
Looked directly into my eyes,
and cradled my sadness.
What if, now, you choose:
to sustain a gladness?

An explosive phoenix, currently embers,
it wants fire, but can't self-sustain, needs someone else...
to massage and maintain.

The fire has consumed me,
and nearly destroyed me.
I can barely breath,
and I fear oxygen.
Never able to control myself,
but maybe, by helping, we can.

A closing toroid of flame,
a vacuuming jet.
It's next to a lake,
but it can't get wet.
The water boils near with whistling rasps,
tendrils of fingers stream by plumes.
Untimely close to extinguishing gas,
damming dowsing holds certain doom.

The steam is a barrier to the fire and heat.
You need to enter to complete the cell.
When you're safe, I am too.
Conceive, breath, weave, do.

Help me, but don't put me out.
Strike balance in love, let's end this bout.

Opportunity

My harp strings resonated, reverberated, and quaked a fissure in the ground. I had struck a high and mighty chord. And in the chamber which produced the sound, I viewed the crystal hilt of a glowing sword. Lava seeped from the crack, jets of fire plumed, then I saw the serpent's back, shimmering image doomed. A dragon of diamond reflected in the setting sun. "Well, shit." I thought, "this story will be fun." An inferno engulfed the dark, as the beast snarled and roared, but it didn't pass the harp, and couldn't melt the sword.

I held the blade and prepared for a lethal strike. But, the dragon turned her head throwing flame up through the night. She brought her ear to my harp, so I lowered the sword, then I scratched her neck and recited spoken word. The beast purred out fiery rings, and hummed harmonic peaceful things.

I climbed up her neck and continued to strum, her legs rhythmically beat the ground which started a drum. I don't know how I knew why, but it would be alright... as she got ready to fly, I embedded the blade to a scale on my right. She uttered a stifled whimpering wail. Then she stretched her wings and snapped her tail. I straddled the hilt, and held the harp. We ascended as a pair into the dark. She made light, I made music.

If we don't hold what's bright, we just might lose it.

Agni

The scars of Endor...
from fire and chaos.
Enemies lurk
and relish our loss.

My name is Agni,
time traveled templar.
Outcast from home.
Afestus' avatar.

A life of regret.
Death blaze burning.
I cannot die.
World's keep turning.

Rise from the ashes.
Blood oath I've sworn.
Extinguish desire.
For the love I mourn.

This cycle's perpetual.
But now it must stop.
Records are spinning.
Let's make this beat drop...

Try keep up,
my pace is too fast.
I've been to the future,
but come from the past.
Come to close?
I'll light up your ass.
Try to keep up,
you might crash.

It's time you heard about my story.
All the guts and all the glory.
Shit I do, now I'm free,
Fire ball degrees:
need no degree.

The corpses of demons,
blow through the heavens.
Screaming heathens!
Templars weapons
Silent screaming.

Try keep up,
my pace is too fast.
I've been to the future,
but come from the past.
Come to close?
I'll light up your ass.
Try to keep up,
you might crash.

Countless nights, countless fights.
Terrible sights, terrible strife.
Hear my plight, what is right?
Feel your fright, feel the light!

Written pages, worn out sages.
Timeless ages, rampant rages.
Dungeon cages, it's outrageous.
Brittle basis, I am ageless.

Try keep up,
my pace is too fast.
I've been to the future,
but come from the past.
Come to close?
I'll light up your ass.
Try to keep up,
you might crash.

Yang

It will follow you.
Everywhere you see.
What is the other half?
A part of you and me.

Dawn to dusk.
Growing so small.
At noon it's gone.
At twilight: tall.

Creeping continuous careless.
Darker. Dismal. Dimmer.
Following fleeting and fallen.
Slithers sidelong simmers.

Stretched outlasted outcasted.
The hater of all light.
Broadcasts shine explosive.
Darkens inner fright.

And it wouldn't exist...
without it's lasting bane.
Because pure darkness
all looks just the same.

The Conduit

Spirits are speakers.
I'm a conduit of verse.
Angels and demons
use my pen for their words.

Angels are SO fly.
We are forgiving misgivings.
Each moment orgasmic!
We're here for the living.

If only you'd celebrate Eden's bliss.
Shed your coats of gluttony and greed.
Then you'd be sated with all this!
And from your hatred, you'd be freed.

You speak of ages: brass, silver, and gold.
But only your sages tap times of old.
We condense in perpetual light
and disperse like peppered
stars in the night.
Our existence is love,
our existence is light,
our breath is life,
our stories are sight.

Tantric tempers in a meditative mist,
inhale the vapors of wistful wisps.
You can't see us, but we're here,
and you'll hear us when we're near.
The shamans, scientists and story-tellers are adept to feel us...
yet you so often fear their interpretations,
realizations,
and
potential reformations.

Our words are all around you,
consistent,
caring,
considerate,
true.

Call us heavenly.
Call us divine.
But we too hold on to mortality's vine.

Sadistic traps exist in our realms
seductive demons over arch, overwhelm.

With peace you can exist in perpetual bliss,
towers of feelings cascade through a kiss.
Every moment a journey from the moment before.
And only laughter at the idea of a "bore".

Life's a gift,
you can be a saint,
open the rift,
cosmically paint.

Cliff

Walk off of a cliff.
Cascading rays.
Gregarious friends.
Ender of days.

The waters are brisk.
Mermaids will catch you.
Taking this risk:
truth shall fetch you.

A penny for jenny.
A doctor of pacts.
The advice she lent me...
Feelings for facts.

Gioia C

You know, you're far too kind.
Seriously, it's undeniable.
You also share my sense of humor.
Which is affably reliable.

You know your way around a kitchen.
That's undoubtedly true.
Whether it be haggis or lady cakes...
Or something fresh and new.

You know you're a craftswoman.
Wood, pig skulls, and chicken feet!
I smile in wonderment:
"What might be the newest feat?"

You know your Scottish accent
when reciting Robbie Burns.
And yet I haven't heard it!
Maybe we'll take turns?

You know I'm very sorry.
And once again my friend.
This poem might keep growing,
but for now it has to end.

Lauren K

With the mindset of mixology,
exists an aspect of psychology.

Hair of fire.
Ambition true.
Political ire!
...and parties too.

Cocktail wear, simply smashing!
Puppy party? Bitches Bashing!

Over-qualified?
You're too skilled.
Simply verified:
you're strong willed.

You've proven strong without fail.
Proven strong while at Yale.
Powerful women are the best.
Show the world. Ace the test.

Caravan of Thieves

I first heard you on CT NPR, I was driving to tunes and didn't get far... before I realized the reverberations of talent, I immediately bought tickets, or when stopping allowed it.

That first show was pure bliss! A little bit of that and little bit of this: philosophy, sadness, madness, and joy. I may be a man, but danced like a boy!

If you were to die, or no longer sing, so many will grieve. You'll see me cry, and with dead-raising bring: the Caravan of Thieves​!

To Comment

To comment or not to comment: that is the question. Have thee any hesitation? Is Facebook worth that contemplation? In a sea of poets, preachers, and engineers, will your words be worthy of what they hear? Tis noble to share your ideas in a thought, but be wary of the consequences fraught. Rupture the rapture, write and capture.

Omari Straker

I stood in the hallway, 7 days before class in our freshman year. "What experiences will pass," I wondered, "now that I'm here?" My parents dropped me off and waved goodbye, that's when several black people started walking on by. They were leaving an unknown friend, we'd be hanging out shortly, just around the bend. Our meeting would be worth it, but racial divides had me nervous.

We introduced, shook hands. Video games were the first things we planned. Time to get my shit rocked in Smash, on my computer we had our first laggy bash. It took you no time to read me, and less time to beat me. I tried to improve game after game, find my center and be one with it. ...But only got served to the point of punishment.

We often disagreed. I never acquiesced. Your views were important, greater than the rest. Why did I pick on You about the things you say? Because you're better than the pejorative: "Man, that's gay."

Once upon a time, you wouldn't let me call you Omari-kun, but now you expect a better poem all-too-soon. Oh, whatever Oball, you're in luck, just as long as you recall: Omarikong sux.

Back to the tale. Sophomore year was sad. Problems were ballooning: bigger and bad. I said do whatever, you'd be gone now. No more material to write this song now. You did leave for a little while... pulled away: temporary trial.

Hospitals are anything but nice. I've slept in them once more than thrice. Any way, here's something where we might agree, this is a story of you, not a story of me.

We played more games, and got to win Catan. Remember the summer bouts with our friend Wunyin? Little did we know board games would bring us together, their conversations would make us closer than ever.

We went to our professional lives and separated for years, during which you enjoyed some regular beers. We both kept a weakness to half of our peers, and wanted women as they plagued through our fears.

Montebank. Maybe we both have that one card to thank. You beat me in our first game of Goko online, now it's a vehicle to talk all the time. Our latest news, women foreboding, our endeavors, our careers, and conceptions in coding.

Then you even came to visit, but the circumstances were unfortunately less than exquisite. I was over-tired, under-medicated and overly-wired. I knew that train would crash, and it would be our last day, last smash. It was totally contrived, you needed to drive.

Omari-kun, we stand as paragons today. Is this poem too soon? What can I say?

Hilary B

The mother of my nephew and niece
has got a sense of humor that can't be beat.
And when she dances to beats in that silver dress,
it's not her goal to have you impressed,
yet such sentiment is a success.
From her beauty I shall now digress.

She told me women come in trios:
the smart, the pretty, and the fun.
But, Hilary, you're right about one thing.
You're all three, not just one!

Speaking to collegiate humor,
and a technical school's fun.
Do you recall a ratio jeer?
Because RPI is 3-2-1!

Now for something more bawdy...
When they're feeling rather intense:
Boyscouts might seek some relief
by getting out of then back in tents.

Hilary, you're a wonderful lady.
Ned's lucky, my friends all agree.
You're smashing! Wizard! You're king!
Maybe there's someone like you for me.

Hilary K 2

We danced like we were hippies:
frolicking happily and light.
In a party of the sixties,
we danced all through the night.

What is happiness for a time?
Just laugh a little smile.
Hilary, you bring on the sublime,
even for just a little while.

How lucky am I?
To love so many so much.
Quite the fortunate guy,
as I see it as such.

I'm honored as a safe space for you.
And I wonder when you knew you knew.
Because now I trust a feeling I have too.
Perhaps you'll let me confide in you?

Ethereal Grasp

Deeds I dealt.
Gifts I have given.
Taken or felt.
My reach has risen.

Reach for clouds.
Pockets of ice.
Mist is loud.
Scatter the mice.

Cruelty took
vanity bare
shattering shook
into thin air.

Adam O

Never bored while on the board.
Nothing lame about these games.
Always dancing, jumping, prancing.
Never snoozing, rolling, boozing.
Time to think? How 'bout a drink!
Do we have fun? We have a ton!
Eat pasta, eat pizza, what ever might ease ya.
Let loose, just do it! Rock on the music!
All I can say Adam, is: Oh my damn.

I'd love to see you with a tambourine,
the next time we sing The Yellow Submarine.

Sam Simms

My memories of Sam will persist past passing. They were concentrated with him, me, and Chris Bogie at Royle School and Middlesex Middle school from 4th-6th grade. I'm going to just name memories in no particular order, their significance is like a stream of movies clipped over in my head: Super Smash Brothers after getting in the pool, the rope swing, getting in the pool after Smash, playing tag when I had a sunburn, pod racing with flying turtles, the time he farted like 40 times when we were sitting in a movie aisle... I don't even care what that movie was, we were 10, and it was the funniest thing ever! Doing the slip and slide. The revelation that, "DON'T LOOK OVER HERE" actually draws attention to you when you are changing. We played hide and seek with the remote fart machine noise maker. The Vortex Vornado. That blimp thing. Mario party blisters, so many blisters. Trying to sneakily watch Species II. Those grannies telling us to "get off our property!" Talking about girls for the first time. And how ridiculous was Walter Shock?

I got made fun of hard in 4th grade, so much so, that I eventually changed seats in the lunch room (classic). Sam was making jokes about losing lunch (vomit variations). And he made me laugh after I'd been crying. Our friendship was that of boyhood innocence.

Your memories will never leave me.

Nate B

We met conversing at music night,
we settled on a certain facet:
The story of my health improvement...
from nothing short of Magic.

Our gatherings would soon diversify
into a game where we carefully miss.
And all our aim and concerted tries
are thrown by hand with discs.

It's lucky that I met this dreaded guy.
It's almost like he fell in by fate.
With that poofy hair on your stoop.
I see you all the time, Nate.

And yet again we have a mutual hobby.
The blur of the hacky sack in the air.
Round house kicks and scorpion whips.
Watch the jump snap of the Blair!

Seth W

Let's start from the beginning,
A wonderful place to start.
I met you by some rum and dice.
And we were quickly set apart.

"You need to explain the rules better." As I kept taking shots of rum. And I really tried to do it better as I got evermore drunk and dumb. I laughed at this scenario, nervously hilarious, all these new faces! You didn't spare me though, thought I was nefarious. "Don't laugh at me, that's what you're doing!" I felt helpless in a brew shop where only hate was brewing. You walked away, were we enemies that day?

Then, like a week later, I was invited to the Ceotto's. I arrived late, and felt only full of "uh-ohs". 40 minutes from Middletown, the place was empty, barren. Just some lonely clothing piles and a lazy dog held therein. I started to explore the forest, but didn't get too far. A sign angrily stated, "halt, it's a reservoir." Which, of course, was where you were. You rampant rascals! Slowly trickling back as a park ranger explained that you were being assholes.

There you were, Seth, shirtless, scars across your chest. "Oh, hell," I thought, "heart problems, such a fucking mess." Here I landed again, unfamiliar faces, a brand new situation. Let's gauge how the humor in this place is, and create a presentation. Did Karly feel any long term-scorn concerning sexism and sexes? Comments, heckles, viewing porn, did I leave lasting vexes? I assume straight dudes are defaulted misogynist, even though I'm the gentlest of feminists. See the nonsense in my mind? Just wait 'til I start toking. I put myself in CRAZY binds, especially when I start joking.

Any way, there we were, Seth, for some reason I chose to exhale fire breath. I got a gulp of 151 and spat it in a lighter. But the results were a dud, then only something slightly brighter. In the fire of your eyes, on that summer day, I also exhaled a sigh, because we made peace that day.

Then, surprise! You were on a bus bound to a quarry, "Okay listen, blah blah blah, pay attention to me, blah blah blah, this important for your safety..." And we headed over to the show. There was an arsenal of New Haveners whom I'd shortly get to know. We would grow stories as I got to know them well, and several would get poems that I would gladly tell.

The next time I saw you was in Scott's backyard. Where you confronted me with a brand new issue, strange and surely hard. You mentioned a word that starts with the letter Q, somehow not okay for me to say but it was okay for you! You pushed my sexuality like an obvious law, "a straight dude shouldn't say that," How hypocritical! What a flaw! This wasn't my territory, yet this was utter crap, arguing felt obligatory, I mean, Anya was in your lap! I backed away from such a flagrant issue, and deemed it dangerous to pursue.

Then in that same night you told me about being trans, we talked of your growing pains and adolescent plans. Our relationship changed forever, in clarity for the better.

As an aside, about these despicable words to utter. A poet needs vocabulary as his bread and butter. I respectfully refuse to say several words, but dislike appropriation. Slang evolves alongside all the misappropriation. There will always be words of malice and cruelty, in my opinion, owning them is dangerous and altogether fool-hardy. Of course, Seth, we've had this conversation. And agreeing to disagree shows relationship maturation.

We're still back in time, summer of 2014, so I'll keep busting rhymes about how our paths were crossing:

You invited me to potluck more and more often, we still disagreed on stuff, but my heart began to soften. On your birthday I expressed a poem of PRIDE! And in the audience of Pericles, you took it all in stride. On your birthday, I got to help in an ironic bake, a peach wielding fondant frosted lady-cake. You undoubtedly also picked up more about me... like certain innocence and ignorance of intimacy.

Then, during my contemplation to Scotland, "You can afford it, you're young, and..." Here it comes, "You're good looking." What?! That's something only my mother would say to try to push the depression away. And with those words, (remember vocabulary to a poet?) women's interests became apparent, but I'd still manage to blow it. I understood abuse, especially emotionally. But, now, people were nice to me. It seemed such kindness couldn't be real, I feared the endearment I started to feel. Those feelings became pathological. And I fell into something psychological.

For the first time I was angry with you, but I felt so toward everyone. Sleepless nights and stress felt through, nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. I needed you, thought you were the only one to help. But, even now I can't understand why I felt that you betrayed me, delayed me, ignored me, abhorred me. Perspective is so important in the context of my loss. I can't explain the crisis at the apex of my chaos. I expected so much from you, from everyone, and too much from myself, but my standards were unrealistic and taxing on my health.

I'm short of breath: writing now from then. I've said it Seth, I'm sorry, will it ever end? I sit here watching the crystal-clear story in my mind. I want to change it, but I can't rewind. You know, in a way, I'm lucky to have felt such a range of emotion, and I shouldn't have expected such (what? devotion?). It takes a lot to get me frustrated, remember your proclamation at nonsense of your one-way street? Have I now demonstrated I can trudge over losses and defeat?

Granted, this has been the more serious side of our affairs. So here I remind of question marks and 'A's in my chest hairs. And the time a queen heckled me on stage. Secret contemplations: putting a master lock in your earlobe's gage. When we sprinted through the beach to cold murky surf, that little girl eyeing our balloon for all that she was worth.

There is "no oath, no spell, no prayer and no hell, but the one we made." You were there for me when I laughed, fell, and felt afraid. I might be so bold to say, you've been on excellent friend to me, and I marvel that I thought you were my enemy.

Meredith

There I was, on a bed in this chick's apartment next to a dude named Lee. We were drinking some and playing this game from like 1973. The concept was tremendously trippy with art held hilariously hippy. Yet again I found myself in a mix of unfamiliar faces. What ever. I have fun no matter what the space is.

And then you arrived. Another exception to prove the rule, a babe whose presence has most gamers drool. But, not me. I'll be glad to keep my composure, while so many nerds lose themselves to overexposure. You're attractive: those curves, hair, and face, it's a physical fact. I'm a sucker for an Irish woman, your beauty strikes a chord, simple as that. I seriously think the Irish hold some sort of magic, good witches exist, their lost art is tragic. Any way, back to the history of that attractive girl, was she smart or funny? Was this worth a whirl?

That night I heard your writing read aloud, my respect was beset: instantly proud. I don't care if that work came from fifth grade, my night came alive and my day was made. Then I was enlightened to your musical talent, play several instruments, but Berkeley can't have it. At that moment I knew: smart, pretty, funny... I was interested in you.

It was a bit of a shot in the dark, but maybe you'd come to MakeHaven and pluck on my harp. But, you were just a tad detached, and I sensed you weren't interested in becoming attached. I told Megan everything seeing as she was your good friend, but she told me you had a tenuous relationship with your boyfriend. Knowledge like that can be a relief because it makes the uncertainty brief. I saw you around, here, there, and occasionally in town, and at a couple of parties where I enjoyed playing clown.

Awhile passed and I saw this bike on a post, it looked just like the one pictured on your facebook post. "Well, shit!" I thought. "Is this stolen?" Which friend had I caught? Then, I glumly reported what I had found, a depressing message with a mess surely in bound. I took pictures like a private detective, trying to stay cool, calm, and collected. But, luckily this bike was defective, but my snooping was somewhat effective... Because you made an allusive reference to your ex. Well, maybe something good could from those texts? But shit, his name's Andrew. Dammit. He tainted my namesake. Dammit!

I saw something new, the sparkles of your eyes had me attracted to you. But, I had to hold back, it was too soon. So sorry about this, "Shut up Hugh!" I'm never so mean, but how else could I force myself to stay clean? Clean isn't the exactly the right word, but I needed safety lest premature feelings were spurred.

Then... surprise! You're moving away. SHIT! Why does this happen day after day? Dammit. Oh well. I'd have to move fast, ah hell.

We had laughs upon laughs, smiles for smiles. When we're around each other, we're happy for a while. The A on my chest. MakeHaven dancing's the best. A terrible game of Puerto Rico, you were leaving in under a week, oh...

Finally a music night, and a couple drinks to join. The moment wasn't certainly right, and it felt like flipping a coin. And you said, "No." I said "Okay." We got in our cars and we drove away.

--

Not wanting to lose a friend, I made a text transition in truth. I wanted you to realize my motives weren't wholly uncouth. In a way though, I think you're protecting yourself from a familiar danger, but you should realize that no matter what, I won't become a stranger. I'm excellent at communication, and it seemed like there was mutual infatuation.

The beauty I see in you transgresses your appearance. And if your convictions are clear, I'll keep physical adherence. I like you for you, and I think you like me for me too.

Come to Europe and be my friend, let's see how this story develops around the bend.

In crimson chaos crammed with crazy,
Decisions daunt and delve amaze me.
Don't fear the Reaper whom I adore.
Unveil the view of me, and Seemore.

I take comfort in providing it for you.
How you pursue it is what I'll do.

Summer's End

Brisk breezily eases, "Keep calm and cool."
A leaf facing pleas is fated a frightened fool.
Contemplation convinces conviction's choices,
Surreptitious influence surrounds wispy voices.

Where's a leaf in the chaos of this world?
Converting light until brown, withered, and furled?
A life cycle's use, exhausted photosynthetic.
A leaf's demise drops drearily pathetic.

Grow gleefully gorgeous, oh mother tree,
Your colors matured attached longevity.
Mid-life changes, Green, Yellow. Red...
Fate's feathery fall toward carpets of dead.

Brisk breathes breezy weary wisdom:
"Scatter soon. Collect. Compost to come."
Winds flow. Gails blow. Hurricanes throw.
Soon leaves to dust, soon soil to grow.

Ignorant leaves will toss asunder.
Fragile lives hold on with wonder.
A fall's start lies lurking 'round the bend.
Between big brown trunks at summer's end.

Today's a warm one to bask in the sun.
Keep calm and cool when the day is done.

Lee F

You introduced me to doomsday,
on a Haigh person's bed.
And with cards, missiles, and nukes.
We decimated the dead.

Is Mr. Lee a mystery?
Playing the bugle on a machine?
An unreserved man in the reserve.
Semi-jobless like me and living a dream.

Someday we'll be ridiculously rich.
Because of the TAIL of a girl named Stella.
Her story of mermaids will be epic.
And vaguely similar to a girl named Bella.

Tridents of truth.
Mermen uncouth.
Powers presiding.
Kingdoms colliding.

There're murmurs from mers,
of antarctic angry centaurs.
They'll fight, but don't stop it.
Because in strife: there's profit!

Megan Haigh and Maggie Hotchkiss

Maggie Hotchkiss and Megan Haigh,
some might call them the terrible twosome.
If you learn the tale of these family friends.
You'll see their story's a tad gruesome.

Move on, move on, artist, comedian.
Get a sense of what sets them apart.
Heaping helpings of hilarity getting Haigh.
And joyous jewels of beauty @Maggsart .

They are kind.
They are strong.
Holding parties
that last long.

Pools and games.
Never the same.
Never be bored.
Always on board.

Who to thank? Or who to blame?
For the day we met playing war games.

Marley B

A vignette for you Ms. Bennett is
a contrast to the norm. It's stark.
It's a sad story with strife mentality.
This poem's nothing short of dark.

Let's see, I met you while at potluck drunk.
But sadly, I couldn't remember your name.
Then you brought up a dead dog story,
so recollection to a fetching game.

Yet, I didn't remember and you gave me grief.
All I knew was that nameless association.
And even with a reggae star references,
my memory still faced disassociation.

As I got to know you, we learned what we have in common.
Even mentioning this in writing feel like something bold.
The stories we create are hushed,
because society deems them "best left untold."

My story compiled 2014-2015

As an engineer inventing something, I feel constantly lost. When I quit my job in summer 2014, I had a rough idea of what I wanted to do. Rough. And, a little over a year later, my plans are still rough. Every day, I am wading through a murky mess of non-clarity, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I just purchased 3 MIDI connectors because I need a way of interfacing my Arduino to a digital musical input, and despite understanding what I just said, I still feel like I don't know what I'm doing.

But that makes sense, you gotta keep striving before you start thriving.

That all being said, I vastly prefer my current state of affairs to my old job. I hold a different type of stress now. Namely, I don't need to worry about planes falling out of the sky (a steady, but powerful stress). My day to day stress now is trying to figure out daily accomplishable tasks. And even though I am overwhelmed, and feel clueless, I have learned so much toward being a roboticist.

I fail all the time, but with help from the people around me, will persevere. My poem from May talks about the very subject of my ambition. http://www.tweakunique.com/failure/

Chemical Cooperation (Eric Partridge)

CHEMICAL COOPERATION

What effects are monetarily in?

Whose affects are humanitarian?Is what just is, justice?Capitalist or philanthropist?Let's learn from a chemist.

What if we had a shared chem database?
Free to any in our shared earthly place.
A chemical for that!
And synthesis for this!
Would be easy as a flick of the wrist.
If only we could search our tablets,
and stop sacrificing little lab rats...

Currently, chemical companies horde their knowledge.
Scientists sworn to secrecy immediately post-college.
They find information for a profiteer's race,
instead of sharing that light with the human race.

On Creeps

Women everywhere, we're just ignorant. I consider myself very epathic, but in order to relate to something you need to experience it a bit. I was never approached by a woman until one interrupted and questioned what I was writing at a fish fry place in Scotland at age 26. Ironically, the purpose of the poem was to bolster my self-confidence after I learned the girl I was dating "technically had a boyfriend." Any way, being approached was annoying, but I was flattered. Only after experiencing 'the other side' was I able to gain perspective. It's really hard to want to be friendly to strangers, I find it's much easier to complement older women on dresses, jewelry, and what have you, because of implicit motives with younger ones. When I'm older though, that won't be the case. Long story short, I hope this small story makes men less ignorant, and women understanding that some of those guys just want to be friendly. I hear women complement one another all the time, and it is a beautiful thing. #heforshe

Spiral

Where do I begin?
What a classic start.
A far-cry of my life.
My spirit's torn apart.

An acrid smell of diesel.
Improperly emissioned fumes.
Stuck in this train seat.
Memories haunt my gloom.

Where can I escape?
Reminders crawl and teem.
It's a living nightmare...
of love's potential gleam.

This god-dammed crap.
I fucking hate this shit.
Yet again I want just blackness.
Memories untimely rip.

Depression is, in my eyes:
preference of the solitary naught.
Because the tears dry in my sockets
with no more pleasure sought.

Seeking a lover's embrace
has been a constant journey.
And when I found her, I was blind.
Intimacy ignorance only hurt me.

Then I faced my condition.
Too many pathways through my brain.
And although my reception's clear.
So are methods inflicting pain.

I couldn't sleep while lying.
And didn't care to eat.
But I functioned exceptionally.
Always up and on the beat.

But things didn't make sense.
Reality was a choice.
My mind was somehow somewhere.
With a very active voice.

I fell, I spiraled through chaos.
But I didn't know I was falling.
False epiphany's and revelation.
Denial of the doctors' calling.

And then I was "healed."
With a new drug in my blood.
Complicating the cocktail.
Muddled murky dirty mud.

I hate my altered self.
I hate that I feed it.
I hate the pills I take.
Knowing that I need it.

Liz W

I was asleep before we met,
lying at a frozen yogurt place.
And stumbling awake,
I took your embrace.

You actually deceived me,
feigning ignorance toward clouds.
Some people are that dumb,
you looked gleeful and proud.

"You seriously find me serious!?"
That changed everything forever.
You surprised me, and stunned me!
Loose the goof, all the better.

Sledge hammer that car!
A wedding ring at the bar?
Marathon running and running so far.

Such activities and activity seldom see ladies...
I'm actually a misogynist, Liz, OBEY ME!

Yeah fucking right, even if I were an asshole,
you wouldn't take that shit. I'd be spun, punched,
and dropped with a kick. Because Elizabeth Waldbridge
is a bad ass in boots. Or flip flops or shoes.
Or what ever footwear she CHOOSES to choose.

Should women be these angels of estrogen?
What nonsense is spouted by pig-headed men!
She's a panther, a hawk, a lion, a viper.
Be cool and beware, and don't dare go and fight her.

Teens know everything?
They don't know shit.
So pull out your books,
and study this lit.

She'll teach you English,
then knock some god-dammed sense in you.
Just do it, relinquish!
She's the best for you.

Learn your god-dammed lesson.
Take your fucking test!
Did I not already say?
SHE IS THE BEST.

When they sound that bell,
enter her heaven, her hell.

Maybe you'll fly,
but you might get burned.
Any and all credit
will be given if earned.

Alan W

What an experience it is,
to be beaten by the police.
Or any aggressive group
violating the peace.

Granted, with the cops,
you can't strike back.
Ideally they won't inflict
a lethal attack.

Sensei, you taught me the basics
of a ready position.
Elbows closed, arms straight,
a centered condition.

What you learned from Calasanz,
you've briefed me on too.
May we never have need for:
Weng Chun Kung Fu.

Clinth L

I was giving my dirty feet a necessary scrub. Then I heard a familiar voice while sitting in the tub. It was Josh, "Hey, I need to pee." He's my brother's roommate, "Come in," I said' "feel free!" I looked away during the duration of the sprinkling, then looked up after zipper sounds post-tinkling. "Wow, I don't know you!" I said to not-Josh, not-Josh said, "Yeah, I also don't know you." We chuckled, we were insta-buds. I shook your hands and cleaned them with my extra soapy suds. I was feeling totally beat, and shortly thereafter, fell asleep. At like 3 you awoke me as you looked for your jacket, I felt pissed at your face, and wanted to smack it. But then you were gone, away, disappeared. And I groggily wandered to the kitchen I peered. Oh. My. God. So much Mexican food, I ate with my fingers, it was totally rude. Later I would learn you brought it, dude. We met in the bathroom of a midsummer's night, and would see each other again in the flashy with the bright.

Fireworks. Fireballs. Fire breath. FIRE. Paper hot-air balloons. Partying, drinking, dancing, and tunes. We were in Queens for the forth of July. That actor ran from his arrest, remember why? And when the cop-car slowed next to me? My heart was stuck between thrill and glee!

How about the trapeze girls on the fire-escape? Upside-down kissing? My mouth was agape. These two were voraciously swapping spit, not laughing at death, but seduced by it. Their shirts were off, our beers were toasting, and the crowds flocked for stories a boasting.

Later, we watched the world cup together. And roared with camaraderie, the more the better.

We've hung out at other places, museums, bars, wacky times, and silly faces. But you're stoic when you need to be, a strong consistent calm to see. You don't misplace your fears or your trust when gravely dealing with what you must. You almost came to the island of Cockenoe, sailing to buried treasure and women in bIkinis. But, tragedy befell your kin and you stayed where you should have bin.

Clinth, it's always a pleasure.
Times in the sun.
Times just for fun.
Even times of sadness,
it feels like we've won.

Michael H

"May I crack your back?"

You had me at crack.

Feelings: hypnotic.

And homoerotic.

Wrap yourself around me

And I'll gasp and whimper.

Joint fluids are freed.

Now more the limber!

I can't help myself.

I feel dumb and startled.

Your hands massage upon me.

I loudly hum and gargle.

Later, I'll try your scotch.

Two fingers? How about three?

We'll play harp and guitar.

As I hear you close to me.

We may not be jedis.

But, you're an archangel, Mike.

I'm a saint, and I can see

your wingless, flightless, fight.

Coulter G

"Dude you gotta just roll with it"
You speak with softness and calm.
And I keep on plucking, bit by bit.
Focus on the strings hover by my palms.

I always scoot by Koffee to say hello.
And there you wave, or strike a pose.

Maybe we'll be rockin in your backyard
jammin on breezing hammocks never feels hard.
A porch, a garden, a giant bird feeder.
"Dude, you won't get scorched,
I'm a safe fire breather"

ha ha ha ha

I see you on your bike
with rhythm in your feet
even wheels can't help but dance
to your looping beat beat.

Mark B

Just the proper cropping, who is this guy?
Then I laugh at Photoshopping.
And don't bother with the why.
Mr. Mark Boren,
we'll soon surely meet,
I haven't any clue when,
but we'll warmly gladly greet...
and greatness will begin.

Granted, it has started.
And going.
After we've parted.
It'll keep growing.

That Jen lady seems pretty cool
she's in your pictures, which rule.

Keep fun and stay fly,
walk the talk, Mr. Incredible guy.

Bonnie

Care to arm wrestle?
You should probably think twice.
A misogynist piggy challenged
and was caught like like a vice.

Have you heard of them?
Mac and cheeseburgers, of course.
They're heaven, they're everything, they're God!
I want them for every meal, and every course!

Some might think she's affectionate
and they're right, joyful snugs :).
She'll let you know for a smiling while.
As she wraps you in those hugs.

You may be fortunate enough
to know a great chef too
and just like with Kevin,
with her food, I'd eat 'til death too!

Bree G

Let's see,
Let's see:
the mystery.
The mystery to me,
that is ms. Bree.

Ringing singing,
voices caught.
Breezily bringing,
serenade sought.

Emotion emotive,
translation explosive,
words and feelings
emit from your lips,
your body expresses
with dancing hips.
Waves.
Gyrations.
Rocking vibrations.

You were wondering,
who is she?
Ha! You don't know?
That's Bree.

Zoe

How should one make a first impression? Scooting? Biking? And at your pace? You'll remember my name without correction! When I splash some water in my face! Why don't you show a creepy movie? With razor blades, eyeballs, and murder? How is it that you seem so groovy? Within so much darkness and lurking fervor? Then again, you're a softy, a plushy hug. I've seen you jump around and cry... from a flying buzzing big 'ol bug. Swung my racket, then it died. Let's keep on grillin, swing through killins. I got this feelin... We're the villains.

Gris B

Watch out, tread with utmost care...
You never quite know what you're facing
when you're dealing with a bear.

This she-beast is great, awesome, and dour
her core is carnal, carnivorous, crunching power.

The true story of Goldilocks was just right,
that is,
she was a magnificent morsel
for GrisB's appetite.

Chomp Chomp. Stomp Stomp.

When she's not tearing flesh, or
a human thresher, she's singing.
Fozzy Bear better beware of
the majesty she's bringing.

So, hope to hear her.
Her music will make you cry.
Yet, you should also fear her.
So, don't blink and don't die.

Anya B

If kindness were a lemon drop,

somehow you're not sour.

I'm so glad to see you smile,

no matter when the hour.

Maybe I'll see you by Caseus,

and you're there with a giant tray.

Then you'll squeeze the cheese in my car.

"To city hall, Andrew!" Okay!

Then we'll have coffee at the Lab,

in Happiness we'll talk therapy.

And I'll be so glad to hear your words,

you've always been so kind to me.

Or I'll just be be biking by,

and yet again you'll fill my wishes.

Because when I see you standing there.

You'll catch and blow me kisses!

Travis and Thema

"If you help me find a place to live,

I'll totally write a poem about you."

They offered THEIR apartment to give.

How much kindness flows from these two?

What more could I tell ya?

Steps they break, paths they pave?

This is Travis Carbonella,

and of course Thema Graves.

Some might call it joyous prancing.

Which is definitely a part of it.

That's actually ecstatic dancing.

In a group of shufflers, they started it.

Perhaps you know she's a healer?

What hand positions would make me?

Unlock your chakra, ki, and feel her.

Explorative energy, channeled reki.

Then of course there's live performance.

Feel free to sing, play, wail, and flail.

A zone without judgement, an ordinance.

From these hosts we have permission to fail.

Chris M

The stories you've told...
involve the crazy, weird, and the dumb.
With a heart of gold,
full of love, laughter, even platinum.

How can we gaze at
your bright blue eyes?
(They're blue, right?)
Without being dazed
beholding that sight?

Of all the hunks to bless New Haven,
it's C-master Monks heroically savin'.
All these damsels in distress,
moped kidnaps seen the best.
Stolckholm syndrome?
More like, "Take me home!"

You're attraction is almost frightening,
Good luck Shaina, you're holding lightening.

Elias D

"Do you like Scotch?"
Wait, are you joking?
"Nope, got some matches?"
Then there's a cigar I'm smoking.

How would you rate your luck?
With a friend so SO bad ass?
I'm just happy to be here.
And surrounded by class.

Was that banana a good idea?
"Nope" you said with no disgust.
Well, I made a mistake.
Your negative opinion, I can trust.

You're responsible for my image.
And instruct me how, and what to wear.
Elias Andreas DiMichele,
Will you come to Scotland to cut my hair?

Zach S

Raw simple sentience.
Didactic dissidence.
Mathematical prescience.
Trained indifference.

"Hey, play some poker?"
Then you grabbed more money
in the middle of the hand!
But hey, it was funny.

"Oh, you like Frisbee too?"
And then we started it,
tossing the game disk,
and after school ultimate.

"Want to play Halo?"
NO. But how about Smash?
A trip to Sierra Grill,
and a Paul Nelson bash!

You know, you're pretty cool.
Seeing you do what you can,
it gratifies me to see:
an EMT, athlete, and scholarly musician.

Zac H

"But what about this?"
"And what about that?"
You never got pissed
at Rudy's confused crap.

"Oh captain, my captain"
is to say the least...
A sympathetic bastion,
yet untamable beast.

I was able to scry it,
your ascension, your strength.
With that warrior diet,
you rose through the ranks.

You're certainly a scholar.
Glance through a reticle,
and I'd gladly holler:
"His attraction is chemical!"

Kevin P

His spelling isn't always perfect.
But how can you not love him any way?
His conviction strong, efforts worth it,
and I'd rely on him any old day.

Remember all the pizza we tasted?
Or playing soccer together in sneakers?
Or maybe those times we got wasted!
And the hub bub purchasing speakers.

We've never actually sailed together,
but you tried to use it for my romance.
The wind was dead, let's blame the weather.
At least when you DJed, it was a banging dance.

I once popped an umbrella in your face.
You forgave me, always kind as can be.
Even though I invaded your space,
Mr. Petrikas, you're always a friend to me.

Matt N

I don't think a bigger influence existed, you can't haul my weight, but a different strength has persisted. And from you I found the power of innovation alongside the trials of integration. Please, prescent me a smell, and with ease of assembly, build bottles as well.

I look up to you still, and respect your decisions, respect your will. Also, your wife taught me perspective in feminism, I appreciated her forthrightness and criticism.

You're classy and keeping things fine, of course not by luck, but, by design.

Joe P

The excellent feats of this man's story follow the beats of compounded glory. He walks along, a rock-star legend, crunching equations: gravity bends.

He's not always political,
but his strength's experiential.
And to tout his credentials:
he's nothing short of presidential.

Let's keep the beat,
time in time bumping.
Turn up the heat.
Drum. Smash. Thumping.

Happiness Lab

Sometimes I'm tired, but don't want to rest though.
Let's get wired with one shot of espresso.
Your resident poet since the kickstart,
I'm glad to add harpist to my role and my part.

You know they're treats beneath that glass?
so don't overlook as you go past.
Get some coffee to start your day,
then keep on going the happy way.

When the sun sets, you're lucky to go here.
Enjoy some music and a glass of beer.
Happiness is solid with philosophies tight.
Get your groove on, morning to night.

Alex M

Oh no! Oh my! Tic toc!
His brain: so fast. Ideas: they're cash.
Mister Alex Murdoch.

Take a minute, in fact, take two.
Watch intuition grow to fruition.
Inceptions and conceptions that flew.

Bottle openers of bats.
A Gatorade tumbler.
K'nex and gun black.
I'm now the humbler.

A trip to Mamoun's?
You're in luck boy!
Take a ride, make room
and stop calling me ____ ___!

Shaina M

You're going to be that woman,
"How did she do it?"
And I'll agree candidly
with no added whit.

I've seen you tear
while watching above,
and know it's from happiness
surrounded by love.

You're a sage of community,
a boon of togetherness,
and no matter the conditions,
you'll always weather this.

Sister Shaina, I'm full of stress.
But around you, I feel no fear.
Even with impending duress,
You make a safe space where I can endear.

Chris R

I only know the recent glimmers, the latest snap of dim-lit shimmers. You've exploded,
some probably thought you'd have eroded, corroded, or fell. But your story is one of the most amazing to tell. And I barely know a few things well.

I look at you for boundary guidance, might I too, cross those lines? Your sense of humor ranges depths of wisdom while you prod the warning signs.

So much respect for the life you live, and same respect for the art you give.

Congratulations, Chris, you deserve any, and all earned: bliss.

Jessy G

London bridge is falling down! As always seems the case when giggling clowns come face to face. Imagine if we were engineers. (gasp) Making structures and things with gears. People's safety, and scary fears! Well, that's enough imagining for me, I'd rather help the world musically. It's a good thing I can learn from someone like you, when we're not jesting, our goals are true. I know you're smart, and enjoy how you converse about your art. It never occurred to me to call you "Grizzly Bear." But now it has, so be warned, beware.

Hilary K

Have you heard: The Thong Song?
She'll dance up a storm!
And in those beats: BONG BONG
hurricanes are born.

What was your false name?
You didn't like Giselle.
Who started that game?
Was confusing as hell!

A ballerina an a Razor.
Gliding in poses.
If an audience gazed her,
they'd shower with roses!

You make me laugh,
keep me smiling.

Kevin M

If tattoos are a story,
then this poem's too short.
And if you think mods are gory...
"They're excellent!" I retort.

Times under the sea,
despite Sebastian's song,
seem difficult to me,
as they were 6 months long.

I've tasted your food,
and had more of your food.
Taking too much might be rude.
So I'll gladly be rude.

Delicious, scrumptious, excellent, more!
Delectable, succulent, nom nom nom, more!
Have you tried that cheese?
How about THAT cheese?
Big cubes of bacon, juicy drippy chicken?
Yes, please.

I guess what I'm saying is you're an excellent chef.
And if you fed me all day, I'd eat to the death.

Jake B

So there's this guy.
I slept on his floor.
You might ask: Why?
Seriously, what for?

My run in with Jake
was something metaphysical.
No mere mistake,
conditions were critical.

A night in a bathtub?
Everyone's dressed in fancy suits.
Porters, port, whiskey and grub!
Nonsense of knowledge garbled in groups.

Then we ran into Frodo,
it's impossible to see him...
Chip chap cheerio-yo!
Ol' Benedict's whim.

Your convictions are stark,
your revelations are rad.
What matters is dark,
my fraternal comrade.

Alex D

Through the Ages.
Age of Empires.
Barbarians, Mages.
Castle Crashers fires.

My time at Pratt.
Was mostly tragic.
Until the day I sat
and conjured Magic.

Ramp with green, fire red,
heavenly white, black is dead,
knowledge blue, knowledge grew.
Peeling packs, growing stacks...
Stack the decks, they'll get wrecked!

They may curse you to the depths of Hades,
and if so I challenge them to these!
Godly games at my tournament house,
then they'll see...
Everything's coming up Milhouse!

Jimmy L

"We should drink beer
and play good 'ol Risk!"
But, dude, there's nothing to fear.
Risk isn't fun, no risk, ugh, ask Chris.

So then we played world domination.
Using cell phones and instant messaging
to sneakily steam roll over nations.
Grown ass men are just boys aging.

A diplomat you say?
Well that makes good sense.
A risk manager for pay!
Put people at ease when tense.

Using corporations
as fighters for freedom.
How's that for taxation?
Fifa would grieve then.

When you're around, all's clear.
Mr. Manager, keep on rock'n,
We'll have nothing to fear,
if some queens come knock'n!

Chris B

Drop the pods.
Turtle Racers.
Skateboard Gods.
Demon Pacers.

Going so fast!
I can't believe it.
When we fly past,
you'll conceive it.

Legos... legos everywhere.
Dream to build them.
Dream to dare.
Science! Math! STEM!

Let's play Risk!
Set the MODs.
Ugh, I hate this.
Let's end this please.

Orbital minds, oh no!
half... half my troopers.
Their gone in one blow!
Ha ha, Risk sucks. Bloopers.

Omari S

Computer science? Bring on the nerds.
O-ball's nothing short of strakatastik.
Regular jobs are for the birds!
Let's get money: games fantastic.

Walking the path of the Strakers
follows a vortex of powers.
I ask now, any takers?
Watch the minutes to hours.

Want to play smash?
Yeah f_____g right.
You'll only get bashed.
All day and all night.

The cards he plays,
overpowered opinion.
Each one he lays,
secures his Dominion.

Gordon G

Sly like a tip-toe Fox.
Making prey jump off cliffs.
Whether piano or trombone, he rocks.
And up boulders and rocks he lifts.

A league of legends surround him.
He could engineer your demise.
Every test, design, and whim
are of his control, his power, his prize.

Fairy wings for Sleepy Hollow.
A flying headless horseman brings
news of whom we should follow.
Listen when prince charming sings.

Magge G

Watch her whisper to her brush,
and fill the characters' faces.
Melt to curves and accents lush.
Then feel the depth of open spaces.

What's that Mags?
How you brags?
Grow price tags?
Miss money bags?

Famous, glamorous, sparkling craft.
Joyous, devilish, whimsical laugh.

You know that smirk.
You know what I mean.
I've collected your work.
And shown what I've seen.

Let's run a 5K!
Where's Beebs at?
Always the fun way.
Barefoot at that!

You've seen my orthodontist?
I'll model a s__t-eating grin. :D
Which you can paint like Pocahantas,
with all the colors of the wind.

Brutality (poem)

Violence isn't solved by violence, the "crime stoppers" commit the crimes, what can I do for my brothers' silence, how can we help in brutal times?

Kelsey (poem, anecdote)

I was attracted to the back of your head, and followed my nose wherever it led. In that crowd at Lyric Hall, being near you just smelled right, "Well, this is weird," I wondered, "What does she look like?"

Shortly, the presentations were over, and dancing began, you stood out like a flower, so I hopped over and ran. Alongside gleeful prancing, I first took your hand, then we practiced partner dancing by the jazz band. I took your number, then scooted away, joyful to see you soon, on another day.

We met again at Firehouse 12, I met Alexa, Frank, and Allison, even though we didn't delve, it was so much fun!  We chilled at MakeHaven to see my robot hand, an improvised night, totally unplanned. Frank played my harp, was it Saria's Song? We started playing Dixit before too long while we drank some home brew. Then I recited the tale of an Irish crew.

I offered a ride in my car, but we saw it wasn't there, so we scooted/walked home in May's fair night air. Shortly thereafter, we separated as pairs. We walked up Edwards, then in the magic I uttered some star-words: "Black canvas peppered white, what an incredible riddle. Ancients look up at the night. A translucent band in the middle. Unmistakable, irreplaceable, starlight."

We made eyes, and then we kissed. Our feelings were undisguised, light, and hinted with bliss.

We drove to Mamoun's and garbled falafel, chit-chatted and laughed beside drunken kerfuffle. Talks of Spain and Scotland, stories and history, past experiences: adventures and mystery. In August, you're departing for Spain, I'm glad for you, and I'm ready. But, to be upfront and plain, I'm a bit sad already.

Kelsey, The Shooting Star

A kind person beamed,
wielding a caring heart.
Whose demeanor gleamed,
from the very start.

Whether she's working or dancing,
I see her close to the grind.
She's cooking and planting,
with healthfulness in mind.

Strolling or lying on a jetty,
cuddled cradled in my arms.
I'm prepared, and ready,
to protect her from harm.

She's considerate, kind, and thoughtful.
Organized, following her plan.
Relaxed, meditated, and mindful.
A respectable, intelligent, wow-man!

I'm happy to watch her play,
an enchantress with the guitar.
Our time's a bright ray
of light off a shooting star.

27 Daze (poem, anecdote)

A fight with a Scott
is like wrestling a wolverine.
Through wilting, through rot,
we'll endure the punishing.

Whose the winner?
Whose the victor?
Aren't they allied?
Forced together?

The eyes of Kurtain
enclosing and true
saw faith in phantoms
where honesty flew.

Which witch is which?
They casting blessings?
An in-patient itch...
How many dressings?

I got knocked the FUCK down.
Then drugged the FUCK out.
And felt like a clown.
In my honesty pout.

Cackler and laughter.
Is this relaxation?
Get mad then get madder.
And watch the damnation.

Going outside is a privilege,
then again so is a shelter.
And if limbo's a bridge,
our jungle's just swelter!

Will you face your biggest fear?
And be engulfed by darkness?
Willingly listen to what you hear?
Tread the light you harness?

You may be perfectly happy,
your life quaint, content, alright.
But your honesty appears sappy.
When some 'healers' hear your plight.

This was the hardest thing I've ever done.
Yet it was only 27 days.
And even though my battle's won.
I now know the other ways.

Intuition was once my denial.
Honesty a throughput of conceptions.
Gestationed hatchlings little while.
I believe in my inceptions.

Mac and Cheeseburgers (poem, anecdote)

Sometimes when you eat food,
a longtime craving passes.
And without coming off too lewd,
a sexual wave elapses.

The thrill of best cuisine,
has a loving story,
and would be rather boring,
if the meaty parts weren't gory.

Salt and pepper in ground meat,
after a relaxing peachy day,
night-time garlic, summer's heat.
Surrendered stories given away.

We froze the miniature sliders,
saving potential for something greater.
We're not just witnesses, we're riders,
we're the cooks we also wait for.

Being frozen is to know no time,
nothing grows when locked in stasis,
but sometimes you have to stop the slime
from self-destruction and bacterial traces.

The cheese concoction was a mystery.
Another source, another story, how?
What might have been the gooey history?
Maybe it came from the same cow?

Chefs brought together a grand design:
eggs, flour, battered, balled, fried.
We would experience and might call divine
something no individual would have tried...

...But a group of efforts made it
and I got to play it, face it, and even taste it!

Overcome Failure (poem)

Hold back harm, as we link arms, feed me light, and stay in sight. We're in danger, I'll make mistakes, don't push anger, and we won't break. Curves and curls, loops and rails: dusty paths and hidden trails. Keep me aloft, climb new heights. Stay warm and soft to comfort frights. Moving forward, I’ll have to roam, but with you on board, I’m not alone. I might slip, and even trip, skin might rip, blood drip drip drip. But as long as I have you to call, then I know you’re there to catch my fall. Soon we’ll have a perfect lullaby, with clear chords just ringing by. We’ll feel the marriage of a robot and a harp, eclipsing blindness, hear past the dark.

Chapter 2: Christoic (poem)

I'm weary, but I'm a fighter. Outlook's dreary, wishes brighter. My story wasn't so bad, but my demeanor's telling, it isn't glad. I was only seven, just a boy in church prayers heaven. My parents' bodies kept me alive, everyone suffered, everyone else died. Stained glass windows yellowed with noxious fumes, the altar like a hearthstone of fiery plumes. Gasoline, dynamite, explosions, and chaos. Loss upon loss upon loss upon loss. They stifled the encroaching fire, suffocated and shielded with parental ire. Jenny's eyes blocked out when dad huddled over my chest, grandpa's oxygen mask cradled by mom's breast.  Chaotic disorder, destruction, unrest. Desperation, crumbling walls, barred doors, screaming, melting, scathing, wailing. Silence. Cold.

I'm scarred, burnt, and walk with a limp. An orphan with emphysema heckled as "wimp". That demon's out there, I know who he is. I neither desire revenge, nor hope for justice, prevention is all I hope to accomplish. There's destruction in his wake, murder paves his path. I'm going to execute him, much is at stake if he unleashes his wrath.

Nibbler Supreme (poem)

You don't need to be told whose king,
see me on any one of my thrones.
My jumps, so high, and pounces, perfect,
vindicate how many humans I own.

My subjects work and toil daily,
as I lounge, laze, luxuriate, and play.
They clean me, groom me, kiss me, and feed me.
Chicken, beef, and fish... among other gourmet.

If I choose to demand it,
then they'll begin entertainment.
I'll show domination, rubbing their calves.
Then frolic with pleasure, or maybe just feign it.

Such kindness is undeserved,
these beings must constantly be trained.
They are okay at massages.
Keep me relaxed, and leave me unstrained.

Occasionally, I'll catch them a gift.
Maybe a spider or even a rat.
After all, they get to handle my litter.
I'm such a philanthropic, your excellence, your cat.

Son (poem)

I am the sun.
Awake, all-seeing, ablaze.
I look down on everyone,
and will continue to make days,
after the end of your days.

I am the sun.
You're creatures that energy plays.
Your story has but just begun,
my children of love, children of rays.
From dawn to dusk: with wisdom I raise.

I am the sun.
And know what your story's worth.
Your purpose isn't merely for fun,
or visceral greed capitalizing the earth.
So show respect and kindness to your mother, Earth.

I am the sun.
I will watch your story finish.
Space is nowhere to run,
you'll slowly, surely, diminish.
Then I'll be alone, dim, then shh...

Like you, I am mortal, I am the sun.

Hear No Lies (poem)

A lie we take to the grave
is one of which we never speak.
When truth's concealed in silence,
the blighted outlook's bleak.

But even grass grows on blighted land,
is it worth it not to tell a soul?
Death is dreary, weary, watery, silent,
darkness encompassing, everlasting, foul, full.

What does it mean when they say,
"The truth will set you free."?
I don't know, but I'll venture a guess,
that it will heal you and me.

Lies are fascinating in how we make them,
because the biggest are those we tell ourselves.
Incredibly taxing, terrible, troublesome, toilsome.
And when we don't believe, we wearily delve.

Your lies hurt us both equally.
And mine do the same.
I'm so sorry, you are too.
yet neither you, nor I, are to blame.

Great Mustache (poem)

Beside cigars rolling rings from lips, or grazing it with your fingertips... Hair so fine its surprising its man is finer. Color so on point. Do you use eye liner?But no, it's natural of course, and always soft, never course. Tastes and tinges of scotch and steak, smiles and sincerity show no breaks. What is handsome, just a dash...Dude, that's a great mustache.

Mother's Day 2015 (poem, anecdote)

Our love is deep,

our affections real.

Strength in family,

strength we feel.

2014,

a trying year.

We've held fast,

held what's dear.

Breath in spring,

fragrance of petals.

We'll land on our feet,

as the balance settles.

Swinging 60's party (poem, anecdote)

Hippies, swingers, dancers, and twisters. That was swell, groovy, fabulously far out! Snapping, clapping, jumping and jiving. It just makes me wanna shout!

Sara (poem, anecdote)

A powerful viking,
bodacious burlesque!
Much to my liking...
I will attest.

Beowulf's dropped jaw,
Shield Sheafson's toppled might.
They'd stare in awe,
at her voluptuous sight.

She's serenading Sara,
to say the least.
With hidden turkey,
let's have a feast!

Dear Danielle (poem, anecdote)

I always knew that you were nice,
since the night we met, rolling dice.

Soon, I saw you were intelligent and cool,
from the first and many shots of pool.

You told me of a haggis birthday,
and pronouncing "Edinburgh" the right way.

Scotland meant so much to me,
which you read alongside each **sip of whiskey**.

The ice cream and stout at Thimble Island's bar.
And the story of my forehead's scar.

If you leave New Haven, I won't be sad.
Because, somehow, somewhere, you're still rad.

May the composition of your necklace stay perfect.
Keep on striving Danielle, I know it's worth it.

Your viral smiles have done much for me,
alongside some southern hospitality.

For Tashi (poem, anecdote)

I remember when you were just a pup

skipping, scampering, and falling in circles.

Smelling every smell you could smell,

and harrassing your uncle Freckles.

You ran toward and from waves,

when we took you to the ocean.

Your bark was super annoying,

anytime a door would open.

Remember when you wouldn't let me pet you?

Then Charlie showed me how to rub your tummy.

Which made you leg-shaking butter in my arms.

You flopped over me like gumby.

Your skin was always so itchy,

no one really knows why.

I'm crying as I scratch your neck.

It'll be the last thing we do before you die.

These tears are bittersweet.

You've lived a wonderful life.

I want your groans and pain to end.

7 Gifts (poem)

The first of which is a robotic harp.
I cannot sing to you while I'm away.
Perhaps its melodies will sooth your heart.
And at your leisure, serenade your day.

The next will be a special flower.
Named for you, a synthesized seed.
I'll plant a new one ever hour.
Conceive the scent of a beautiful breed.

I'll capture lightning in a glass.
An electric blue necklace spinning round.
It will keep you vibrant as a lass.
Its charge elates with steps near ground.

I'll burrow into the core of the earth.
And contain perpetual lava in a ring.
You'll understand the device's worth.
When you choose the amount of heat it brings.

With all that up-heaved stone,
I'll build a stairway to the stars.
And among many a home.
Will build a statue of you on Mars.

And finally, on the moon,
I'll build a a gateway to heaven.
And on a cloudy dune,
you'll receive your final gift of seven.

Dancing, smiling, playing, flying.
I'll look into eyes of ecstasy and glee.
After all my toils and trying.
My final gift to you: is me.

Gravity (poem)

A star and a black hole

orbit eachother. Yin-yang.

They are drawn and pulled

so close. So close. Big bang.

Outer Spaces (poem)

Dreams exist in countless places, like rolling oceans with cloudy faces. Morphing mists where outer space is.

You'll never force entry with power like that of a motor or meditation, but you might access staring at a flower while sitting on a quiet sailboat lost in imagination. The sun reflects perfectly at dusk and dawn. When the day ends though, the light isn't gone. When the wind's at your back, the gusting music stops. It's like you're not moving. But when the sun falls you blink at your sun flower, and confound at wonders and mystical power! The air is... water? The sun rebounded. You don't feel like you're moving, but you don't feel like you're grounded.

The yellow hue is drawing you near, knowledge and pain fall with your fear. Rippling above is restrictive gravity. The earth is so small, a greenish blue ball, self-righteous in importance, relevance, taxation, impedance.

But, like, suit yourself earth. I enjoy my self-worth. ...Maybe I'll visit when I'm feeling down and want gravity to pull me around.

So, I think I'll fly over here. See how Oz is doing. Or hit up Aslan and see what Narnia's brewing. Although, I heard Bilbo's got some baller smoking leaf, so we'll play board games with Gandalf while Frodo makes tea.

There are plenty of places I'll visit, but not dwell, like Dante's inferno and silly Winterfell. Granted, the good, the bad, and the ugly are interesting, but, they're artifacts pre-made by other's sintering. Goblins and ghouls haunted me plenty as a child, and I'd wish them well to keep running wild.

I'll make discoveries as I create them, day lit dreams of fantasy mayhem.

Do you think I'm looking for a meaning or point to this story? Why would I ruin such glory? I feel words like wind in my hair, and capture their essence in verse. So maybe with all these words you hear, you'll see you're a star in a vast multiverse.

Thimble Island Brewery (poem, anecdote)

Cozy in the winter.

Chill in the spring.

I can't wait for,

what other seasons will bring.

A trip to Thimble Island:

kegs, cups, growlers, glasses.

All served by Danielle,

and other smiling lasses.

India, American, amber, ghost and brown.

Try any ale or the coffee stout.

Flavors: tangy, earthy, rich and or light

Come see what all the fuss is about!

Want ice cream in your beer.

That wasn't a question.

Because a splash of vanilla,

will enrich your selection.

Take the tour an learn the story

of malted barley, hops, and yeast.

Then you'll agree with me,

they're the best in the east.

Check out the sci-fi

among artful comics here.

Have some conversation

while enjoying your beer.

Tikkaway (poem)

A lantern's light
glows effervescent.
And what's bright
holds luminescence.

Eat at Tikkaway
fresh, crispy, saucy.
Take it that way
with a mango lassi.

Food is energy,
just like light.
With that synergy,
taste the sight.

Whimsical Dream (poem)

Candy and luck.
Rainbows chase unicorns.
A silver horned buck.
Performers' gold leaf uniforms.

Scotland streams of orange soda.
Bagpipes blowing purple bubbles.
Video games neva game ova.
No one ever gets in trouble.

Beds are made of cloudy air.
Sleep only for meditation.
Dance alone or in pair.
Gliding by constellations.

Make a star.
What ever you think.
Go on, go far.
Blink blink blink.

Beauty (poem)

Capture a butterfly in the palm of your hand.
Set it free
and
hope it will land.

Track the wolf on the mountain.
Cry as it howls at the moon.
And when your tears well up,
attempt your business
without showing gloom.

Capture light with smoke and mirrors.
And clown around with magic tricks.
You only know of one sorcery:
beating hearts may never trip.

Permanence (poem)

To assign the idea of "always".

Or an abstraction of "never".

Would never be too wise.

Nothing lasts forever.

What is your perception of permanence?

Is there perfection in prescience?

No such thing as infinity.

No such thing as zero.

What then is divinity?

Who then is: the hero?

My advice is to let it go.

Admit your faults to let you grow.

I celebrate imperfections,

and conduct real connections.

Can we please get over this fright?

And grasp what's in plain sight?

Shaina's Ham (poem, anecdote)

Moist, succulent, dripping, and hot.

The roast basted and bubbling.

Ham sizzled open on the pot.

Salivating mouth droplets doubling.

Pink chunks fell from the knife, 

a spoon could have served just as well...

Never had I been so eager in my life

to taste what I now retell:

Salty, tangy, crunchy, munchy.

It's texture was of a sponge lost in heaven, I had one piece, I also had seven.

Winter's End (poem)

Brisk breeze eases,
"Which leaves are left?"
Withered White wheezes,
"My life light 'til the death!"

Woodpeckers smack their faces.
Squirrels start hopping around.
Excitement melts in all places.
As the snow seeps into the ground.

The canopied carpet is wilting away.
And flowers are popping purple heads.
Life rejuvenated on a warm day.
Soon White leaves to beds.

Their story is traceable knowledge.
Soon to pass to the sprouts.
Even when education toward college...
will still be seeded with doubts.

Continuation is something on which we rely,
and we never truly know why.
We can take comfort in trying,
because recursion re-springs despite dying.

No, Snow (poem)

Stubborn swaying Snow,
falling faintly slow,
warm up! Unfreeze,
and let the water flow.

Silly slushy Snow,
your temper seems so low,
free those fractaled bonds,
and let the seedlings grow.

Simply stupid Snow,
you already know:
fear is cold and fruitless,
we'll reap when we can sow.

Echo (poem)

I have one face, and one alone.
And if my feelings appear like stone,
it is because they are
held together
by tar.

But if I could emote to you that you smelt it,
maybe you would realize you can melt it.

How can I hail thee across blank echos?
If all that you reply is ________.

Hail back to me and let me know
that you'd like to have conversation grow.

Poetry is as easy as water,
and here I throw it out like fodder.

Re-stimulate the nerves of my face,
smile, glide toward my embrace.

Gorror (poem)

Metal cages, muted rages,
bloody pages, silenced sages.

Fierce fiery folly.
Acidic slime volley.

Putrid pestilent puke.
Vomiting volume droop.

Ugly, sinful, crunching, painful,
destined, dismal, utter abysmal.

Chains electrified and barbed.
Sadistic seniors free of charge.

Hello! hello, hell owns hell owns.

Snap bones, crack teeth,
smatch hands, chomp feet.

Chaotic? Never, such is the reality of a worthy endeavor.

The Perfect Man (poem)

I am the perfect man,
and will obey your commands.
I'll show affection when I can,
and will never make demands.

Those covers are all yours.
May my hairy body keep you cuddled.
If you want, I'll get on all fours,
and drink from a puddle.

I'll kiss you: anytime, anywhere.
Because the perfect man shows
that you come first!
And I'll easily know,
if your day was the worst.

Oh my god! Are those new clogs?

smelled sincerely,
your loyal lovely dog.

Charlie and Vicky (poem, anecdote)

Charlie and Vicky

Love is elusive and mysterious,
felt differently by everyone,
Cupid's rather mischievous,
firing arrows just for fun.

This verse is for my next sister,
as well, of course, my brother,
may he be an excellent mister,
for such a beautiful lover.

A pair of musicians,
rock out to ukulele,
now shared ambitions,
soon conquered on the daily.

What's that? Video games?
She plays 'em... really well.
What else can I claim?
Yoga with the heat of hell!

In case you didn't realize,
he cooks up a storm,
so, I must emphasize,
these two push past the norm.

I could go on with verses varied,
and I will...
the day that they are married!