Space Between

I feel the moonbeams 

flood your room

and kiss you when you’re sleeping

I know the angels touch your face

And your tears exhaust their dancing

And I can feel them from here

No matter where you are

Because the distance between

you and me

is  the only place I know

the distance

Between you and me

is the only place I go

The universe does not give things freely

but your mind cracked my sky

the universe speaks in riddles

But merciful in the spaces, 

thoughtful if you take the time

And time we’ll always have

Because the distance between 

you and me

the precious, precious distance 

is the only place I know.

Weathered

i find a drizzly morning 

to be comforting 

in the early hours.  

to hear hoots 

and callings 

of dissipating night birds, 

their voices adorned 

and beaded 

by a dewy falling; 

it is a simple peace.  

an eyeful of grey 

but with the inner weavings 

of brightly colored warm yarn 

makes a weathered traveling coat 

for a searching soul.  

On a cold October afternoon

I dared put pen to page

My empty words amount to nill

Void of passion or rage

What earthly good does result

In a scribbler's trailed ink?

Merely a page now soiled

And an evening leading to drink.

i sit like pawn between two others

another poet and piano man

we sit and think cradling coffee

this stark religion of who i am

they're also writing feverishly

i'm working on a letter

we sit and sip and write

and think;

"Whiskey would be better"

Swig thy burnt amber

As you wait for your din

Swim in the syntax

While i toast you with gin

Lure the verbiage

Down to your plate

Write like a demon

And drink the night's fate -

to strawberry shiraz

from local wineries

to a dry season squelched

as you're taken to the knees

to oatmeal stouts and porter house

and dancing the neon ribbon

no answers at the bottom drink

but the transgression forgiven

Porter, Ales, Sea foam Stout

Let's give shy a ticket out -

Throw me a tux

I'll grease down the 'do'

Pack it down south

For the price of a brew

Smoky, dizzy, spiral room

I'd stack up to any groom......tonight.

to dizziness to topsy turvy

to inflated self esteem

to a swinging blaze of whiskey nights

to echos in your dreams

may we learn from ass kickings

and may we toast tomorrow

within these spirits of heavy still

may we steep the leaking sorrows. 

 By: Towanda and Kidblue

aka Amy Eastburn and Amanda Barnabe

Shine On

The sounds mostly belong 

to the streets.  

The elements mostly belong 

to the sky; 

So we can’t really be 

that far apart.  

And the distance has always been, 

shaking it’s chains loudly 

in the things that fingerprints 

and spiderwebs 

are made out of.  

Each night I paint you 

swirling orange 

and purple stars 

that you don’t see 

but you make the world 

more beautiful 

intentionally or not.  

A firefly is like glass 

and concrete 

glittering effortlessly 

so that something in this world 

may shine on.

to strawberry shiraz

from local wineries

to a dry season squelched

as you're taken to the knees

to oatmeal stouts and porter house

and dancing the neon ribbon

no answers at the bottom drink

but the transgression forgiven.

Intercept

I wish that I could see you
When I step off of this train
I wish that I could take you
When I take apart my brain
Because I think that you see me
and I think that you know
I think that we're not talking
In your broken afterglow
I don't need your understanding
Just intercept my noise
And send it back to me in prose
To dance the devil of my voice
Because I think cracks have character
And I think scars are fitting
Fat bottom girls make the world go round
And I think they are pretty.
This world is my harmony
Challenged, 
by the implications of words
My fury reverberates 
and I burn
In the moments before 
being heard.

At the Coffee Bar

i sit like pawn between two others
another poet and piano man
we sit and think cradling coffee
this stark religion of who i am
they're also writing feverishly
i'm working on a letter
we sit and sip and write
and think;
"Whiskey would be better"

Jake Badger 6.04

Seemingly aloof in his own daring, Jake sparks a smoke and careens through the crowd like a tiger in a well dressed jungle.  Like James Dean meets Fosse.  He is cool and reckless in his own abandon with the grace and style of a fighter pilot soaring past the boundaries of gender creating a sonic boom that makes that masses look up and say  Aww!  However, the tediously groom jet black hair and too obvious disregard for social tokens clash tragically with the puppy dog brown eyes cautiously cruising the metrosexual crowd.  He lets the half smoked hand rolled abruptly drop to the floor and then grinds it swiftly out with the heel of scuffed Doc Martens.  Weighing in at a fiercely intimidating five foot six inches, one hundred and twenty pounds; Jake Badger, man of mystery, agent danger knows his swagger silently proclaims, "I am king.".