Sound of Your Name

Lovely Lover

I loved you in the warmest time--
when fossils were new;
And dear one, better run and see
How all warm things are you.

I loved you in the hardest time--
When all life was doomed;
I love you--better run and see
How the life buds have bloomed.

I love you, lovely lover
With all your ups and downs
And stops and goes;
I love you, lovely lover--
And how the feelings show!

Dawn's come my way--
Oh, how my soul craved the day--
I'll stay adrift in the haze
And kiss the sound of your name.

{Poem by Michael Kozej}


Widow, Pantoum

My bed is full of silence in the night
except for the fugitive sound of dreams.
His memory ushers in the old delight.
My body floats along a quiet stream,

except for the fugitive sound of dreams
the empty banks, the rushing water sweet.
My body floats along a wayward stream
to places in the past, where we still meet.

The empty banks, the rushing water sweet,
the mighty opening of abandoned doors,
to places in the past, where we still meet.
My memory plunges down descending floors.

Bed pillows substitute for flesh and life
his memory ushers in the old delight,
reminds me I was once a much loved wife.
My bed is full of silence in the night.

{Poem by June S. Gould}

Who I Am

Xiomara

Say it and it comes out dry
As if you're dying and in need of water.
Xiomara, the moon
A grey name, a small sharp rock that hurts your foot.
Like aluminum foil, never stays smooth.
It always crumbles.
You don't understand it
Because you have no idea what it means.
You read it wrong.
Zomara, Giomara, Xomera
Not one is perfect.
Someone who will save the world one day.
Gun, bombs, blood, knives, death
All famous in battle
A warrior.

{Poem by Xiomara Nunez}


I Am...

I am seed under the soil.
I am still nurturing
Like a large tree with branches.
I am pastel pink, soft, smooth, and sweet.
I used to be afraid, but
Now I speak in class.
I used to hold it in but
Now I ask what took so long.
I used to retaliate but
Now I am always the bigger person.
I am a great learner but
One day I will be an inspiring philosopher.

{Poem by Le'quanna Littlejohn}


I'm Me

I am as hard as a shell you can't get into unless I let you
I am a loving person who can be optimistic, but don't act up cause I will go ballistic
I am a camouflaged rattlesnake waiting in the bushes to strike
I used to be single, now I'm in love
I used to be a knucklehead but now I'm a promised head
I make things disappear when they're not going right
I am human now but one day I will really be THE HyBRID
I will break the limitations of the world
Cause baby I'm Me

{Poem by Terell Jones}

Poems

The Swap

One glance across the table
revealing fake vulnerability.
Long, wavy, brown hair,
curious eyes, nervous fidgeting, sweaty palms.
Twenty years apart, age and experience,
he is consumed by lustful thoughts,
desires never realized.

It would be different for her
firm, tight, curves of obsession.
His wrinkles speak volumes.
Opportunity.
One unpleasant moment.
Rent, food, whatever she wanted

Fifty, one hundred, two hundred,
it all depends on the level of human degradation.
Devoid of emotion, pleasure or pain,
numbed.

A simple transaction,
a trade,
his needs for hers.

{Poem by Timothy Duncan}


Cherish the Children

Oh, those blasted prints; I've washed them time, and time again.
Now I sit alone in my silent home, and gaze through my spotless windowpane, and in my heart, it began to rain.

Had I caused pain when I often exclaimed, "get back, get away, you'll get prints on the pane" ? Now those hands are so big and strong, and my son is full-grown.

If only I'd known how much it would matter, and how much I would miss the pitter-patter, the constant chatter, and those tiny prints on the pane.

Cherish your children, for too soon they'll be grown, and you'll feel alone and like your house is no longer a home.

But wait. What's that I hear? A precious new child will soon be here.
I'll put the cleaning cloth away. Those tiny prints can stay and stay. My grandson and I are going to play.

Cherish your children today.

{Poem by Susan Roberts Button}


Dad's Wishes

Mother's belly is like a balloon
About to pop
Nine months like a fish
Floating in the ocean
Born I'm finally free
Dad always wished for a boy
Imagined jump shots and home runs
When I arrived I brought tears
He will have to play
Dress up and Barbie dolls
With his loving daughter

{Poem by Bianka Walker}

Nature

Nature

Peace lies there,
soothing sounds pleasing to the ear.
Her love grows every day,
especially in May.
Crickets love to sing,
beautiful birds flap their wings.
Trees are swaying in the breeze,
darling deer sit quietly.
She watches over their home.
Sadly, humans invade this place,
she pleads her case.
Let them be,
they're a part of me.

{Poem by Laura A. Steeb}

Poetry by Korliss Sewer

Clams

Beneath the layers of linen we dig.
Where all things are soft and warm.

A hush from above;
whispers down below.

Mute is the world
where we prod…

Just affinity under the silt.

{Poem by TrueOpalescence}


Absolute Zero

Suffocating coldness;
skin and spirit broken.
Stiffening darkness
halts my fall.
A slow descent ceased
by this icy abyss.

A beauty held in its crystalline fragrance,
with sharp, jagged edges.
Flesh torn and jaded,
I worship the gloomy loneliness,
and embrace it as my own.

{Poem by Opaque}

Poetry by Kate Ann Kennedy

For Virginia

The weight of the world sits on my chest

On this day, the pain of the world
Manifested itself in the bodies of the young
Inside a stone building
Within a small town
Within the Free World

Sadness sits as a stain inside my mouth
(Inside a room, I feel the blood
I feel the horror
The fright inside those rooms exists,
Even still)

Inside everyone's chest
The weight
Unfathomable
The agony
The weight. The weight inside.
The weight inside the wait.
The waste of it all


Shifting Shapes

You are looking for something
That is mine, no more
Not at this moment
This desired entity has shifted its shape
Flown away during sleep
When I awoke, it was no more
Nor was I

I am merely an extension of myself
This may sound strange to you
I have not even come to terms with it myself
(I hate writing about myself
And the disappearances of
My cells)

My weaknesses are plenty and too many
I am bored with hollowness
And a magnitude
Of useless passion













No Words

I need to fill these pages to feel normal
I cannot.
I feel constricted and conflicted.
Alone in my quest for creativity,
In my battle to find and trap
Beautiful words


Torches

You are seated inside
Upon mounds of memory
And a trail of torture
I feel you here, my man
Your wind fills all of my crevices

And how can we be happy,
Knowing the anguish of our Ancestors? Of the
Torment, which taunts and
Touches the torches of the present? Of our
Future?

{Poetry by Kate Ann Kennedy}

In the Evening

In the evening
as light dies gloriously
and energies wane
time forgives arrogance
and the heart paroles fear
in the moments
unspent in living
true life is revealed
in the passing
of any real and wonderful moment
is born the next to mourn

{Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd}

My Window

Wildness

The apples lie scattered everywhere, each under its tree.

There is in my nature, methinks, a singular yearning toward all
wildness.

The bristling burdock, the sweet scented catnip, and the humble yarrow, planted themselves along his woodland road, they too seeking "freedom to worship God" in their way.

What would we not give for some great poem to read now, which would be in harmony with the scenery, --for if men read aright, methinks they would never read anything but poems.

We are sometimes made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize that there have been times when our friend's thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a character that they passed over us like the winds of heaven unnoticed; when they treated us not as what we were, but
as what we aspired to be.

I love the wild not less than the good...

{Words by Henry David Thoreau}