Reason Why by Rachael Yamagata

logic

i must be  (yours)
swinging

madly,idle

longing   for something
(not here).

i

hold on   longer  (than before), wrapping
my

little fingers  in between the chains.
if

i could

(i would) buy back time,
making

arcs   of love
like light.floating   through  the trees
and

i would bend the fabric
of

my trajectory
into

something more like hope...
it

must be mine.

Passenger Seat by Death Cab For Cutie

holga

rain.swept cloud   up
holding.on

tight      i.love.this.
feeling

you.

me. car. go.    with
cumulus
busted rays    above the sky.pouring

out

on us. this golden nucleus

core.  us.drenched...
we love.

Star Star (Live) by The Frames

star trails

i awake (in a cloud of dust),
hating

the nebular state
in

which i exist,
(currently),

looking around

at the wild cresting tails of
those bright lights
(the ones

that seem to soar    about me,
some

how out of reach) and i

(how i need you), how
i

long for some neon star-colored day
when

i can run (and i can fly) and i can
play

in someone else's big backyard,
just waiting

for the sky-crunching thrill
of
shining

(thus)   for you.

Red Chord by The Frames

hatch

if i   were a mockingbird,
i

would be afraid of this,
this

owl

placed sideways
like

the beaten tracks of   hatchlings
in
the hazy bushes,

midnight (ca)hoots
raging wild

all around
them.

the red wall turns.
if

i were a   tree, i
would

be afraid
of this,  too,

that

unperturbed by my batted eyes
you

would
willingly

choose another tree

to hide your face, and
keep your wings...

Little Stranger by Peter Bradley Adams

the sw(eet)

seraphim climbing  (soaring) around
my head

clambor(ing)
through

my brain
ringing bells

and
bouncing off ceilings
like

walls of a cathedral...
your

voice echoes

through my toes. i
can

feel it

in concrete vibrations,

in age old granite (magic sparkles)
inside veins
beneath

my feet,
and

i miss you.
i still think about  lights, in this image (i have)
of

you...

Clean Getaway by Maria Taylor

eiffel tired

i go    through emotions
like

a pile of clothes   on the floor.
the closet broke,
the

wooden pole  split
in half

from the weight  (it
couldn't

hold on

any longer) and  so i wade
through

deadly pieces,
sleeves and shoulders on the floor

beside my knees

and
they all blur together.
so

many colors, so many folds.
i

build my world
around

the buttons
and

i try

to hold it    (all)   together...

Longer I Run by Peter Bradley Adams

erudite

following up   on this:
(the final chapter)

leaves me breathless,
hair spiked,

clothes undone.
i

run   and i run    and i run
just

to follow after him,
and

follow after you

on
a foolhardy journey towards the moon.
we

go three times,
come home

and

i take off my wedding clothes,
disappointed in you.
i'm

disappointed in myself.
it's the story after

story

of the sorry man

in the moon....