Tag: Poetry

by Barbara A Meier My shadow, crowned with a glory,bending the waves of lightat the tops of mountains,where they catch the rays in their gnarly teeth,spitting them out to bounce around peaks.I am the pilot surfing my life throughthe wave tunnels where I am refracted,and redistributed, till my body visible,fingers cold in the night,grasp the…

by Margaret McGowan after Tyler Raso The tamper-evident waterFalls onto the floor. We needGaloshes. We need a pitchfork.We need conjugation. M says he will not sleep tonightBecause the fire hydrants wrappedAround the house will give him Nightmares. The water continues to fall.There are puddles in the kitchen. The onlyWay to remedy this is to make…

by R.T. Castleberry Rain has shifted west to east,flooding barrio ditches,potholes of patched streets.Wind tears at fuel station signage,jungle gym park, bus stop plexiglass.My wife dozes on sofa pillows,stilettos off, Drambuie glass drained.Her request, benignly drunken,is an action I can’t complete.On our first night,she unhooked her bra, saying,“I guess the date part ofour evening is…

by Sakariyahu Abdulwasi’h the season i started growing roses in my father’s garden, i knewI’d bedded a threat for other plants to sprout callouslylike a summer monsoon. for i knewthe grace of roses is a burden to the entire orchard.i would go to the garden, sip the throatof the roses & the cosmopolitan it’s turning…

by Kenneth Pobo a child holdinghis Uncle’s hand.The Uncle loudly says “You, my boy, will cometo a bad end. The Devilfluffs your pillow.” Bobolinko, who rarely makes a scene,tells this Uncle to stoptormenting the boy—who frees himself from his Uncle’shand and, right at the cornerof Titus and Tarn, becomes an owl perching ona balcony. The…

by Bruce McRae The one in bed while the world dreamsitself into being. The onewho sleeps like a knocked-over urn,moonlight scouring forests,starlight blowing holes in winter’s airs,darkness issuing its evictions and writs. The one undressing after a long journey,a seven-decade gadabout in life’s jalopy.In one ear, the vox angelica.In the other, wind behind a haunted…

by R. Gerry Fabian While there willalways be boundaries,there are no limits.The warmth of a smilehas no known measurementandthe deft touch of a handcarries endless communication. About the Author: R. Gerry Fabian is a published poet from Doylestown, PA. He has published five books of poetry: Parallels, Coming Out Of The Atlantic, Electronic Forecasts, Wildflower…

by Steve Brisendine These are the between-days, gray above and green below.Summer is still on the clock, but you can tell it’s alreadyplanning some time off and then the usual move south.Keep a little humidity in the air, remind the cicadas not to endtheir set before the last song: it’s all stuff you can phone…

by Cliff Saunders All around the neighborhood,costumed children are hidingfrom the walking deadunder autumn’s dusky trees. On this sweet holiday,fingernails are touchy,and the sky is more sinisterthan blood on a ghost. The Halloween basketof fire that has gone darkon a hillside continuesto smolder. How sanguine it is! Nearby, owls devour a pumpkin,and Dracula’s castle triggersseismic…

by Ava Grace I was soft handed till you took my hands into yoursDo you see these scars? They are yours, from all the words i’ve writtenAnd I thought I knew who I was but I don’t anymoreI don’t know anything cause how could you get to me so easilyYou’re like smoke stuck to my…