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 May 2016 JoJo Nguyen
Timothy H
To the mothers pouring coffee
On mother's day
    In to-go cups
Handing them to half-awake dads
    Who take it to their co-parent
Still asleep
In between satin, down
    and flannel king size ambien sheets

To the mothers, who reason
This holiday to be their last
Summoning ancient strength
Yet again, at the end
    For their own

To the mothers
Who made plenty of mistakes
Who let their kids down
And somehow
Someway
Have swallowed all pride
To do their best, now

Thank you

This life-sacrifice IS seen
But is too often, too heavy
And holy
And sacred a thing
To speak about
come for a visit while on a
business trip?

absolutely, sure, I'll be there,

to exchange poetries,
do some heavier explicating,
with a follow up assignment,
body fluid exchanges a tangential
possibility

incoming out-coming,
composing poesies by tablet light,
fingers sticky, a wonderful hindrance,
debating the long and the right,
confabulating the short and the slight

will you, write me
will you, right me,
longest now, our new ancestors
of our abbreviated histories

come for a business trip,
seal the deal,
sure, absolutely,
the flesh test pressed,
handshake awkwardly,
but kiss with lusted hunger,
create a short story
leaving poetry crumbs stains
on sheets of paper loving
2:44 am may 8 2016
I look back.
A dad, a sister, a brother, a mom.
Moving five, seven, no, thirteen times.
A father gone,
A sister to school.
Another stepdad,
No three boyfriends.
Of all, two criminals.

I look back more.
Three, four, school districts.
You promised one final.
Promise not kept.

I’m sixteen.
My first car, breaks.
My second car, breaks.
My third car, Mom breaks.

One, three, four attempts.
Goodnight.

I break; But looking back
It could have been worse.
No dad, no mom;
Just brother and sister.

At least I have three.
Goodnight.
I wrote this when my mother was struggling with depression. Every day she would yell at me, and say all she wanted to do was **** herself. Right after an attempt on herself, this poem was written. I keep it to remind me of the dark before the light. She is doing much better now.
IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT!
Those three words.
Left my body frozen in place
as my mind raced for a response.
Your eyes searched mine -
like hounds for a fox -
Chased me through
thickets
and tunnels
and brush.
Left no stone unturned
nor stream uncrossed in your search.

IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT!
Those three words.
Snatched me from my stupor
and left me face-to-face
with the muzzle of your emotions.
Loaded and cocked,
I could see your tongue ready to pull the trigger.

IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT!
Those three words.
Couldn't hear myself think
or feel
anything
other than my lips
mouth those three words.
Last thing I remember
is your sinister, sweet smile
claiming your reward - my lifeless body-
after unloading the final shot...

"I love you"
IT RANG OUT LIKE A SHOT!*
Those three words.
A reflection on the first time someone says "I love you" in a romantic sense.
 Apr 2016 JoJo Nguyen
Aniseed
Echoes of memories ricochet in
These old haunts of mine
Where the poison hasn't touched
And the only name I know here
Is Tom Collins.

Did we consume too much?
Did we stay too long?
Did the haze of the high
**** us dry?

It must have stolen
All the marrow in my bones
Because now, I am empty,
Listening to these ghosts for acoustics
While the seat beside me stays wanting.
I had a drink alone in a place we used to frequent for open mics.
Bittersweet.
 Mar 2016 JoJo Nguyen
J M Surgent
Have you ever
Mixed memories
With what you wished
They could be,
Creating a fictional
Reality
Blended together
Like bitters and whiskey
Vermouth and a cherry,
The Manhattan of your dreams.
 Mar 2016 JoJo Nguyen
Day
Let him in
Want him out
Don't know the words to say
All alone
Not by myself
The darkness came to play.
Hear my cry
On deaf ears fall
The pain is here to stay.
It's late.
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