Pull A Few Flowers
Pull a few flowers to make your path
with love and attention the route made will last.
engage in destruction and playing the game
and the fun will soon vanish as your lost in a maze
Untitled
He shuts the driver’s side door of his 2010 Mercedes Benz e-class sedan with relative force and begins walking towards the trunk. The trunk pops open so promptly to the touch of a button that Roger Biglen imagines it somehow anticipated the action. After all, to call his morning routine predictable would be an understatement. With briefcase in hand Roger gently lowers the trunk, lets gravity take its course, and begins to walk towards his building.
Two Poems
In a word
or glance, so much can be said
volumes of emotion
meaning, definition, truth
lies.
Five Excuses
“Think of five excuses you would use for incomplete homework” The teacher boomed. “Then write it down”
Apparently this was supposed to be a fun assignment, but it wasn’t. It was as boring as it was pointless. But I was a kid, I didn’t really think of why we were told to do it, I didn’t see the point to anything we did; I had learned to just do it.
Untitled
The closest thing to our shape
is the shadow like impression the summer sidewalk scorched together.
The only warmth I feel from your body,
the lambent lights from seedy bars you said that we should someday enter,
The Windsor Complex
My bitterly complicated relationship with America stems from growing up in Windsor, Ontario.
A Thought
If someone is not satisfied with an outcome, they edit it. They will actively go out of their way to discover and eliminate the mistake.
Derek
While I waited at a red light, I saw him walking, a steady, but abrupt pace. One leg stiffer than the other. He wore the same leather jacket, the ring in his eye brow. His long black hair hung around a stoic face, a face that seemed hard. I recognized him instantly.
#occupy
Many are familiar with the Occupy Wall Street movement that commenced in September 2011, three years after the recession in America that drained people’s savings, eradicated their job security, and rendered horrifying numbers of individuals homeless.
Powerless in Mind, Power in Spirit
If there is one idea that being a psychology student has forcefully implanted within me, it’s the notion that we are, at the root of it all, powerless. From psychoanalysis to behaviourism, cognitive to social psychology, it has been made generally apparent (humanistic theory excluded) that we do not dictate our behaviour. We seem to be the innocent victims of unconscious thoughts, conditioning, neurotransmitter levels, sensory processes and group influences.
Wasn’t So Bad
“Are you afraid to look me in the eyes, Clarisse?” Mr. Alex Rastenburg asked.
He was too close to the truth. Clarisse silently begged him to stop. She knew she would lose everything if she gave in to him.
Play Time
Photography by Devon Butler Flakes of Tahiti Sunrise nail polish are stuck to the doll, miniscule orange shapes adorning the plastic locks. Late afternoon sunlight seeps through the blinds as Megan sits, playing with her favourite Barbie. Perfect blue eyes and a plump pink smile stare blankly, waiting for love. Dress me. Speak for me. [...]
Slip
She was dancing after work, carefree, and with the great majority of her health intact. Every time she took a step, in the spirit of dance or otherwise, her boot would slip until she was again centered by the next step; which also slipped, on the snow and ice alike. She slid, awkwardly flailing and happily into each step she took, with the majority of her health intact.
The Other Side
She woke up with a start, as the glare from a streetlamp suddenly illuminated her room. She saw him sitting in the same chair facing her window. The light from the lamp created an orange glow around his body, and the falling snowflakes cast shadows on his face. She sat up in bed, letting the silence lay over them, as she waited for him to give an explanation.
What It Feels Like
The time never comes.
It keeps sticking out its hand like it wants you to take it.
It keeps reaching out, palm upwards
And it stays there for so long that the sun carves its name into its skin
And it gets third degree burns.
Power Cover Art
People who are the least likely to possess power have it, and those craving it so badly can only attempt to obtain it through corrupt means. So often, individuals haven’t any idea how much power they possess; it’s kind of tragic when that happens. Innocence is power.
