And I Have Need Of You My Love… by Kurt Studenroth

 

And I Have Need Of You My Love

Idolatry of my love
I break things in your name
I stand tall by the fires you give me
I sleep hard by the dreams you give thee
I live every day by your gravity
I burn by your divinity
I gnaw at you by every turn
I break by you at every breath
Idolatry of my love
You are more life than life
And more death than death
It is yours alone to bring me back or let me go
You may be cruel by your own laws to me
Or by all the stars, if you should look on me
Oh the cruelty of your love that it gnarls me
But that I should stand upright anyways
Idolatry of my love
I love thou so
Oh chain me to stone, and try to pluck out my heart
Hurl me to tides, cast me to hells, pit me against devils
I shall smite them all brazenly in your name
That what lasting fame I know has you smothered on it as though a banner
You are my beating heart
If my life be possessed of any beauty, then let that beauty be by your hand
Oh love me oh love
There is not enough love in the world
And I have need of you my love

 

DSCN3483Kurt Studenroth is a knight. The ones that people say go searching for adventures. Come see my videos on YouTube. They call me the Emperor Bonaparte. No blade is a true as mine.

Copyright © 2013 by Kurt Studenroth

 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

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Pillars of Salt… by Eli J. Juhola

 

Pillars of Salt

He feels her when she walks into the room
it’s just a frisk but she loves a man in uniform
and likes the way handcuffs make her imagine

she’s helpless in her lover’s arms.

She tells him what she’d do to him if he took her
home to his place and he pretends not to care
but she knows he’s lonely because he’s not

wearing a wedding ring.

There’s something about the way she moves
that makes him think she’s used to being mishandled
but he doesn’t know her, or want to do anything

other than to drink some sweet tea and go to bed.

It’s almost four in the morning again and he has
just one more hour before he can go home, take a shower,
watch the morning news and read the paper

while trying to forget her proposal.

She’s in it for the long haul and he likes lewd women
he just stands there by the door watching, waiting for anyone
to make a wrong move so he can take his aggressions out on

the scum, which is how he thinks of them all.

Another man in uniform takes her away from him
and she screams so he’ll come over to touch her again,
she kicks so he’ll hold her down while she pretends

it’s just rough sex and he’s about to ravish her body.

He hates his work while he pins her to the floor,
growing excited and disgusted by the smell of her
and she loves him as she screams profanities

which fail to shock him after years on the job.

It’s just another day and in another setting maybe
he could have fallen in love with her instead of feeling
the revulsion that makes him long for home
while he straps her to the chair.

 

Eli Juhola has been writing poetry for over a decade. Every once in a while you can find him at the bar with a beer and a notebook, thinking about a thousand things and laughing at some mystical private joke. He likes to yell at people through microphones and has awesome powers of making coffee.

Copyright © 2013 by Eli J. Juhola

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

Idiot… by Kanchan Chatterjee

 

Idiot

The man from the 4th floor started
his daily squabble with
his next door neighbour over
the parking space
amidst
the quiet spring breeze
and
the singing
of a hundred
different birds.

 

Kanchan Chatterjee is a 44 year old executive working in the Ministry of Finance in the Government of India. He is in love with poetry. Whenever the muse bites him, he jots a few scribbles down.

Copyright © 2013 by Kanchan Chatterjee

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

What it feels like… by Savanna Maue

 

What It Feels Like

Sometimes it feels like men are blind.
You really can’t tell

what I’m trying to find?

I simply want to ensure

that our futures are intertwined.

I know it’s not your fault,
It’s how you were designed
but sometimes I just wish

that you could read my mind.

I know your brain is filled
with trash, and grime and filth,
But please just this one time
could you keep it to

yourself?

Maybe we can make this work,
If you’re willing to deal

with all my quirks

I feel like you’ll be there for me.
I want you in my life.
But I know what I deserve
if I’ll one day
be your wife.

 

Savanna Maue is a student at Southeast Missouri State University where she is pursuing a journalism degree. She is currently a staff writer for the school newspaper The Arrow, and in the past has been published in the Illinois History Preservation Society magazine for young people.

Copyright © 2012 by Savanna Maue