Monday, May 18, 2009
One Poem by Jaime Bell
Sula
When you ruled the world, the heavens shone bright.
With glorious youth and beauty you reigned.
But time advances, and day becomes night.
You were the eldest, your fathers delight.
All those around you were paled by your flame.
When you ruled the world, the heavens shone bright.
You and Grandfather, a breathtaking sight,
Through good times and bad your love never waned.
But time advances, and day becomes night.
Children and grandchildren, all see your plight.
But we know your love for us is not feigned.
When you ruled the world the heavens shone bright.
Life will move on and extinguish your light;
Though you try hard, we can still see your pain.
But time advances and day becomes night.
I have your Golden Years, impending twilight.
The stories you share are my knowledge gained.
When you ruled the world, the heavens shone bright.
But time advances, and day becomes night.
{Poetry by Jaime Bell}
One Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd
One Poem by Roger Singer
Night River
A river rolled into the chest
of nighttime; wide blankets on
a bed of sand. Its name means
nothing to it.
A tree swept by storms floats
dead; an undisclosed path.
Crooked roots weep for
passing shorelines. Bark, soaked
with defeat.
Rushing eddies swirl at the
elephant base of bridges; an
obstinate monument against flow.
A car, high above;
headlights bleed into night.
Quickly fading.
The river, unimpressed,
sweeps on.
{Poem by Roger Singer}
Three Poems by Peter Lattu
To Cavalier Poets
a pewter watch
with Roman numerals
marks time
measured relentless
which moves
to make a mockery of man
here writing and breathing
soon turned to ashes
from spring’s first bloom
To Louise Gluck
parked along the Potomac
walked north
toward Fort Hunt
geese honking
river at high tide
swollen with the night’s rain
lapping up to the trail
a woman
taking pictures
of fall leaves
under water
buried
like Louise Gluck
under oncoming winter
premonitions
of death
revealed
in Averno
To Thomas Hardy
you believed
dicing chance
ruled our fate
no God no plan
just chance
I agree
no God no plan
but not just chance
life yields
to effort
to man’s will
sure chance
plays a part
but
there is more at work
than just chance
man
can fix his fate
{Poetry by Peter Lattu}
One Poem by Roger B. Cowin
Ancestors
The skulls of my ancestors
Lay broken beneath me.
Their ghosts shadow me,
Speaking alien tongues I understand
Only in the furrows
Of my own carious bones.
I carry the dust of their marrow
Between the creases of my stony feet,
Sowing history
With every step.
{Poetry by Roger B. Cowin}
Three Poems by Peter Vetrano
Hell-Heaven
Hell-Heaven
Which place will you take:
First or the Last?
Worst of the Best?
Is this a test?
"Yes"
Roca
Roca
At Mid-Stream,
The Largest Stone...
Alone.
Lunch Time
Lunch Time
Another and another brother against brother
KICKANDAPUNCHANDKICKANDAPUNCH
Just another ordinary school lunch.
{Poetry by Peter Vetrano}
One Poem by Daniel Gallik
Couple Of Good Years
She said he was tainted
with love. He said, I
only want a cup of joe
with you. Some days. I
sound great. Not very
demanding. Isn’t that
what you want? She did
not smile at him at all
and married him one yr.
later at the Anglican
church on Main. Over in
Akron. On some corner.
Not say much except have
two kids. Both out of
college. She died just
a few years afterwards.
He didn’t say goodbye
at all. He wrote short
notes to her. Like, I
had a joe with you this
day. It was cool. Nov.
gets like that. Winter
is coming my dear. I
miss your word a day.
{Poem by Daniel Gallik}
Two Poems by Ron Koppelberger
In Gray
The ambiguous charm of secret whispering
Tempests and Rain, windy straw reeds swept away by grains
In power and flowering cascades of hungry spray,
A discerning able mountain of
Defiant compulsion and random
Gossamer considerations in Gray.
Bone Splinters
Consumed in spider spun, scattered sunshine
Silhouett and overripe sours, a tart
Disjoined parcel of devouring sleek shadow
Proposed in distinctions of
Uncrushed stone
And gentle bone splinters in chaw,
Consulsive in design, in ragweed
And time.
{Poetry by Ron Koppelberger}
Three Poems by Joshua Meander
Reaching for You
Starry-eyed woman with your sad past
And your name that should be a perfume,
Look deeply into my eyes.
For years I've been a dry fern
Awaiting your sun-showers.
Kiss me the way tide butters the shore.
Open up with the vastness of the sky:
Let me live to reach for you.
Amnesia: A Sickness and a Cure
To have no recall of those bitter
Yesterdays would suit me just fine.
Being without a clue to my own identity
Would be terrifying.
What a relief to lose a private weakness
Overnight, because I woke
Not knowing I had it.
To not recognize someone dear to me
Would be torture.
Being oblivious to chronic liars
And two-faced connivers
Is of no service to me.
Perhaps through meditation
I can manipulate a state of forgetfulness
To erase unwanted memories.
Now that's an idea worth remembering.
Invoke My Presence
The favor that I ask of you
Is an invitation for your next big cry.
I'll softly stroke your palm.
We'll take refuge in solicitude.
A surge will conduct a murmur
To the heights of a concerto;
A mist will condense into a blur
Of melancholy, and drip after drip
We'll taste its depth.
Our pouts will merge and we'll pause.
Permit me to share the billing
When the initial tears wring out;
Such a moist act will bring us
Closer than ever.
{Poetry by Joshua Meander}
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