z

Young Writers Society


unwritten letters



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Tue Apr 12, 2016 2:34 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #11

and perhaps you are ten
and the family, in the living room,
is huddled together for an early dinner, the air busy
with noises from the TV, noises
from a movie no one's really watching

suddenly there's a kiss scene, mild

no, not too passionate
not like butter popcorn popping
in a pressure-cooker
with no lid
on a stove at full flame

no, not that

but light,
mild.

let's say your parents lunge for the remote
and change the channel

let's say kissing is a problem,
but it's okay when Tom blows Jerry's brains out with a hammer
or when The Undertaker slays his brother with a chainsaw
or when men fall to bullets like a pack of cards

what
do you grow up to be?
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Tue Apr 12, 2016 6:35 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #12

new to these strange orchards
I tiptoe over the wild grass
careful not to wake you

I think I'm lost

but since I'm here, I will take bites
off everything, make my tongue
taste of everything: sweet, salt, sour
and bitter

everything

here comes the sun
here, my day begins

yesterday I stole some apples, peaches and apricots
my theft still ripe, put lime in my mouth
trapped cantaloupes in my armpits
held a guava between my neck and my chin
stuffed blueberries in my pockets, my pants sagging
I ran, laughing

I'm innocent, and you - you're one wicked ghost of the orchards
you keep laying banana peels on my path
deliberate, squishy hindrances - I keep slipping
yet I'm amazed how
you've gathered every season, laid out
deserts in the middle of tropics

even when it rains rivers
my throat dries up for more

I saw date-palms growing among orange trees
sweet and citrus - like unlikely distant cousins

I even found a mango garden, green and yellow
behind a crowd of olive trees
took a nap beneath a low grapevine and
fell asleep after I had too many

I dreamed of a bed of strawberries and was
woken by a squirrel from the walnut tree, she invited me in
but I broke down
and told her how I had never tasted avocados
and how there were no pineapples around

she told me to climb up one tall coconut tree
and take a look around
I got a slap when I asked her for melons
'WATERMELONS' I corrected, but she was gone

so I just lived on pears and cherries
for the rest of the day
until I found me some glorious
pomegranates
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Fri Apr 15, 2016 5:06 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #13

corpse with an unwritten letter, half of it on my lips
as they bargain with the angels for
moments

the other half
in the last quiver
of my fingers, aching
for a pen with a voice

I want an inkwell of echoes, I want to write to you
in strokes of resonance, in hope
that it's a language you will understand

hear me, hear me, hear me

I had spread a carpet of hopes, fragile cotton,
over the land and on the water, right up to the border
but the decades, wearing jackboots, walked over it
departed, leaving it covered in their footprints of bloodstains

somewhere far, far away, there's peace
waltzing on horizon, I think of it sometimes, but here
the dawn is dying, a slow death
in the lap of a morning that won't come

sunset etched on every eye - a permanent massacre
the sky stitched together by barbed wire

hear us, hear us, hear us, Mother
tell every soldier to go home, go home, go home
something is still left, but before we wipe
each other out, erase each other off the earth's paper
before the maps forget our silhouettes and before we're all
swallowed down the monster-throat of war

bring us home
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Sun Apr 17, 2016 10:19 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #14

nostalgia - fishhook in my chest, take me,
take my soul and tear my heart out
just this once

but when you're done, return everything
let me have me to myself, because tomorrow,
I must begin, I must cough out these cobwebs
from my throat, let the dust of my thoughts settle
in their place, bathe my war-sore knees
and surrender, slowly, to convalescence
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Sun Apr 17, 2016 10:36 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #15

you once told me that stars
are lights from light-years away, little ghost lighthouses
that probably aren't even there
anymore, and that we are only gazing upon
some pointillist's rendering
of a stellar departure

but look... look how beautiful it is, though
despite everything, the moon is shining through
the moonlight is making fragile rainbows pirouette
on the fringes of thin clouds
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Sun Apr 17, 2016 11:31 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #16

GASHA insists that his name
be written in capital letters
when asked where he's from, CZE KYAH is all he says
"what is it to you?"

word is that
not long ago GASHA climbed out the asylum window
and took the first bus to the city
lunatic on the run, he now sits on shopfronts
curses at bachelors, helps the elderly
cross the road, and doesn't ogle at
the ladies walking by, when nervous, he
snatches umbrellas from schoolchildren
and recommends them books, titles
come tumbling out of his mouth

by now he has tamed all the street dogs
who call him WOOF

but his real name is GASHA
all capitals
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Mon Apr 18, 2016 5:38 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #17

wasn't it yesterday when my fingers were wanderers
lost in the locks of your hair — the night's own tresses
and your breath against mine was like
the spring's first breeze against
the winter's last sigh — indistinguishable?

oblivious to seasons, we drank sunshine
from each other's eyes. summer
is so quickly lost
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Wed Apr 20, 2016 7:14 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #18

birds don't sing that much now, I only hear the
faint chirps of freons pecking at the sky's
ozone granary

wake up, climate change is here
put some pants on
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 12:21 pm
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Arcticus says...



#Day 19


someone lives inside me - the dark's own roommate, searching
for windows, his disappointment opaque
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

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Fri Apr 22, 2016 12:51 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #20

you, snowman with icicle tears
covered in a funeral shroud of fresh snow, who stole
your carrot nose and pebble eyes, you once
had warmth in your heart, defiant warmth, you
were the winter's unlikely rebel, you used to weep
for the earth like a violin and your arms would stretch out
endlessly, reaching out to everywhere, giving away
bits of tepidity, what became of you?
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Fri Apr 22, 2016 4:23 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #21

chicken-scratch on a map, a line that runs deep
a scar on the terrain, border, front-line
battlefront, the great wall, where 'we' end and 'they' begin
a hasty cartographer's divisive convenience
the portioning out of the earth,
the blueprints of jingoism
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

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Fri Apr 22, 2016 4:28 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #22

join me, I'm dancing on a tightrope, it will soon
be tied into a noose, but that will be after I finish
playing catch with the hangman
in the courtyard by the gallows, do you see how I've
made a playmate out of misery?
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

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Sat Apr 23, 2016 4:13 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #23

a promise broke, left everything
covered in shards of pledges and
fragments of oaths

someone waited
too long, too long, for that
promise made but never
kept, made never kept, and that's how
the universe snapped in half
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

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Sun Apr 24, 2016 5:13 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #24

they will never belong
anywhere - half-drowned
ghosts
of seafarers

who come home, sea
in their nails, sea

in the spaces
between their fingers and toes
sea restless

in little corners
of their souls, they will never

belong, no, they will only
writhe and scream

and curse the sky, everything
beneath it
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  





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Fri Apr 29, 2016 2:15 pm
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Arcticus says...



Day #25

there are no liquor shops in this city
bars recede into the darkness
of restaurant backrooms
where only the most thirsty
go for a drink of secrecy, quick swigs of whiskey
wine dies of old-age, drunkards
take to other intoxicants, something other than
bottles

***

barbed-wire fences the sandbag forts
of army bunkers from where
gun barrels protude, frisking even the air
the fence has empty whiskey
bottles tied to strands of razor-sharp metal
to drown any intruder in
flesh wounds and clinking of glass - that overture
to gunshots. I grew up among these
bottles

***

we used empty coke bottles for football
me and my childhood friends kicked plastic
like maniacs
before I finally bought a real football, but that
was after most of them had
departed and all I had was a brick wall
for a goalkeeper, I kicked in the memory of
bottles
You either worship something higher than yourself or end up worshiping yourself

Naturally Tipsy ©
  








This planet has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much all of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movement of small green pieces of paper, which was odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
— Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy