Monday, April 20, 2009

Two Poems by T. J. Streett


Treason


I will change my masks
until I find one that fits

I will masquerade around
as a peaceful soul
all the while remaining
a treasonous friend
of morality

I will become the world's mannequin
with only a dismissive smile
to call my own


The Wake

Desperate
for freedom
and a life
time can't numb
callus we are
friends of apathy
we have become

Injustice abounds
in the wake
of expectations' release

The struggle
ordains a king
the weary of heart
find peace

{Poetry by T. J. Streett}

One Piece by Joy Oree


Raining Ice


Frozen words of a lovers kiss,
The icy stares of passions eye,
Cold that drove away the heat,
Is crying tears beneath the moon,
It’s raining ice my son, “he said,”
The frozen tears of yesteryear,
The pent up passion and frozen fear,
Of winter snow and summers’ woe

{Poem by Joy Oree}

One Poem by Fredrick Zydek


Learning to Be Organic


It was raining the night I figured out
your will had become lord against me.
My body ached for you, my skin knew
things about you that made trees blush.

But my spirit clogged up each time
things had to go your way. Sixty-forty,
your favor, would have been fine with me.
There was a string attached to everything.

I thought about going away like a broken
dog, slipping off into the night to earn my
living the hard way, until I remembered
I was the only one earning cold hard cash.

Each time you disappeared for a week
or two, I learned to be organic as a tree,
a thing comfortable living by itself, a thing
that learned to cherish aloneness. I began

contemplating my role in the universe,
the similarity between myself and what
stars do to oil the celestial machinery.
One day I understood the ways that air

is like the skin of God, why rain makes
me feel like I’m sprouting for the first time,
why sparrows speak for the speechless sky.
I owe all this to you and so much more.

{Poem by Fredrick Zydek}

One Poem by Jake Carmany


A March for Salt


A march
Protest of taxation
Without representation
A march
Two-hundred and forty miles
From Sabarmati to Dandi
A march
Of bruised and worn bare feet
On tiny grains of gravel and sand
A march
Where simplicity is the answer
In non-violent revolt
A march
Where children play
And husbands and wives love
A march
To unite a nation
And disband from another
A march
For peace
And freedom
A march
For salt

{Poem by Jake Carmany}

One Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd


For the Snake with the Shining Scales
for Bill


You inspire me, my angel, to care about life
You have brought humanity
to things outside of human consciousness

…and you have displayed nakedly
an awesome respect
for the people you give yourself to

Perhaps thinking the gift to be easily given
Of no real consequence
And yet never really given away at all

Truth is, though, some pass on the apple
those who knew instinctively
that the knowledge of the difference
between good and evil
was not to be found in a tree

That the gift of any knowledge,
in fact, is one of those things
Only angels can inspire
well outside of the consciousness
of most humans

…and wildly beyond the price a mortal could pay
or barter
for possession…however temporary
of perfection

Regards, from Eden

{Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd}

One Poem by Jeff Steinle


Obsidian Tears


Beware the brier patch histories mourner,
You think the world has turned a corner?
Beware ecstatic delight super illuminated soul,
Or Hatfield and McCoy will dig you a hole.
Because no logic was necessary, or is now,
And even Peta still can't save Bessy the cow.
Yet state of nature dovetails mind into the divine.
We made of knotted sting,
We all dingalings,
In union will the universe.
Stem in flower repeat and reverse;
Obsession, craving love stories;
Confusing cholera with love.
You my kimberlite pipe,
A diamond in dirt to retrieve and wipe.
Tears from obsidian eyes.
Maya, and illusion of knowledge dies.
Malignant nub, controlling Medusa media, goddess or skank.
Worldwide hub, you nurtured with a language plank.
Walked together, built together, and with gratitude thanked.

{Poem by Jeff Steinle}

Two Pieces by Andrew Spano


The Last Man


Climbing over piles of brick
that were once apartments,
I used to hold my little radio
up to the sky
hoping for the sound of sunspots
or the voice of an extraterrestrial being.

One of signs of dehydration,
they say, is that you aren’t thirsty.
Not having been held or kissed
for two months, I no longer
crave some evidence
that anything is real
or that there is anyone left out there.

I saw a movie like this.
In it The Last Man
searches for a woman
to restart the human race,
but instead finds a giant spider
holed up in a supermarket
where the world’s only can of sardines
rusts on the shelf.


St. Elvis

I could comfort myself with Elvis,
nestle with a picture book in the big chair
while his honeyed voice croons through
the speakers, and the rain taps its cold
fingers on the dirty window panes.

The sound of cars splashing by on the corner
reminds me that there are others out there.
Some of them comfort themselves with Elvis.
some of them go to church or meditate.

I cast around, desperate for some thing
to hold, some stuffed bear or even
the reassuring hiss of a steam radiator
as I open a book of Palladio’s villas
and drag my fingers over the clay-coated pages
like it was the skin of a lover.

St Elvis, sing for us. Shake a few
measures out all over the stage of the world
as we fumble through a shoebox of photos
late at night, head pounding, cut
from the rest of the herd and breathing hard.

{Poetry by Andrew Spano}

One Poem by Patricia Leavy


Chasing the Dark


Chasing the muse
in between chasing orgasms
somewhere on the path
I put my search onto him
my Dark Prince
like a parasite
desperate for energy
for an elixir
circling the underbelly
the inexhaustible search
tangled in bed sheets.
Then the days came
the details
the distraction
time.
And so now
in deadened desperation
I write myself
my Prince
and chase the dark

{Poem by Patricia Leavy}

One Poem by Steve DeMoss


Quietly Shattering


I find myself to be the only antagonist.
With a tomahawk between my eyes
and a coffin buried underneath
the tongue in my mouth,
I speak with skeletons
yet think more with an embryo,
positive and negative.

That is all there could be.

And it seems to me that
the greatest minds ever have been
just as troubled as they have been brilliant,
the way a light bulb breaks
to the floor when dropped,
quietly shattering
in a room that all along
has been lit with candles.

{Poem by Steve DeMoss}

One Piece by L. Bard


Want to Be Me

It's not easy being me.
I don't get to do a whole lot.
I lay around most of the time.
I don't work, I don't go anywhere.
I don't pay bills and I don't have worry.
I have some regrets, but they are from long ago.
I don't smile, I don't sing, I miss the hugs,
but many of you want to be just like me.

Alone, below the tree and memorial.
Rotting and cold.
Many of you want to be just like me,
but what would I do,
to be just like you?

{Poem by L. Bard}

Two Poems by Lauren Panciello


Cadoodle


It lives in castles, cars, closets, and caves
A Cadoodle eats carrots, chairs, caterpillars, and cups
It likes, crawling, calling, chewing, and chasing little dogs
It chokes, coughs and cooks carrots
One day it crawled into a castle
And ate all the chairs


Spring

From a long cold nap
The sun and flowers wake up
To brighten our day

{Poetry by Lauren Panciello}

Two Short Works by Rebecca Couch


Summer

Late nights down the shore
Out until the sun rises
Yeah it's summer time


Just Look

Open up your eyes
There's more out there than you know
You just have to look

{Poetry by Rebecca Couch}

One Poem by Bruce Fabian Mancevice


The Key and the Box


What would you do, said the little key
to the teak-wood box, except for me?

The teak-wood box gave a gentle creak
To the little key, but it did not speak.

I believe, said the key, that I will hide
In the crack down there by the chimney side,

Just so this proud old box may see
How little it's worth except for me.

It was long, long afterward in the crack
They found the key, and they brought it back.

And it said as it chuckled and laughed to itself,
Now I'll be good to the box on the shelf.

But the little key stopped with a shiver and shock,
For there was a bright new key in the lock.

And the old box said, I am sorry you see,
But the place is filled, my poor little key.

{Poem by Bruce Fabian Mancevice}

Sunday, April 19, 2009

One Poem by Blema Wolin


Partner to My Own
For William Matthews


I have an urge
To write the catechism
Of the infinite.

I want to reach
The space where
Leaves are unsteadfast.

In this season
Called remembrance
Remains a trace

Of joy. A sounded
Pulse of elation
Let loose before the moon.

I catch the tail
Of this vision
So personal I

Feel its shadow
Spirit partner
To my own.

At night, the wet street
Empty of crossings,
Rings hollow.

I step into that place
Where things go
To be forgot.

{Poem by Blema Wolin}

One Poem by Daniel Colgin


Looking


I'm looking for something great to add to my plate.
Something contagious the world can't deny.
Something amazing through the stories we'd tell.
Something that could be memorized and recited all too well.
It would have to make sense and yet c-r-a-w-l off the tongue.
Something for everyone both old and young.
I want it to be tasteless to ones easily amused and perfectly legible for those quickly confused.
For us in the darkness it has to be bright and for one in much brightness it should bring forth the night.
For this something I look for that would be different to all, I'll have to keep searching, for you; me and us all.

{Poem by Daniel Colgin}

Two Poems by William Beyer


Hidden Grapes: Midsummer


Along gray fences,
Within tangled vines,
Clusters
Of large,
Deep-purple grapes
Wait
In extended mood
Of darkness,
Ready
To be picked
By rapid touch
Of eager fingers.


Butterflies: Midsummer

Thin,
Nervous wings
Of yellow butterflies
Ascend,
Descend
Above the seasonal flowers,
Repeated tulips,
A dozen petunias,
Border of marigolds,
Linger in warmth
Of sunlight,
Within a small,
Silent
Summer garden.

{Poems by William Beyer}

One Poem by Renee Waggoner


The Storm


Skies gray
My heart feeling the way when grandmother passed away

Rain falls
Reminding me of my parents' final brawl

Thunder cracks
Recalling the fact

I bore it with dread
I knew my baby would be born dead

Lightning flashes
Recollecting abusive clashes

Rain pours
Remembering father committed suicide fills me with horror

Drizzling now
Reminds me of a drunken friend somehow

Sun peaks through
I'm beginning not to feel so blue

Clouds gone away
Somebody much have prayed

Rainbow appears
Thank you God for always being there.

{Poem by Renee Waggoner}

One Poem by Gerald Zipper


The Happy Place


Ride to the happy place
take a reserved spot
where others arrive like parked cars
move into position
perform the roles
breathe the spiced air
swaying softly and musically
crinkling eyes
bringing the haha sounds up from the diaphragm
that's the way it's done
the place fills with an eager crowd
smiling people laughing people
beautiful people
some only look beautiful
not a whine not a sigh not a whimper
that's the procedure
chuckle grin and guffaw
feel the world's love and hurt and wonder
touch the animals and trees and entire solar system
happy is the pain
happy is what they want
happy is what they need
happy is what they're going to get
these are the rules.

{Poem by Gerald Zipper}

An Excerpt by John P. Campbell


me


i dedicate this poem to me
cause i am what it's all about

without me this poem wouldn't exist
i give this poem eternal life

every word that i'm writing down right now
will be forevermore in my honor

every i that i dot every t that i cross
will be memorialized in my name

every stroke of my pen
will be forever grateful because of me

{Poetry Excerpt by John P. Campbell}

One Piece by Sabrina Mask


Untitled


They hadn't spoken since.
She never saw it coming
She hoped she never would.
She tried to keep them together
She gave it all she could.
It just wasn't meant to be
He still ended up with her.

The thing she once thought was stolen
Walked away on its own
Once thought to be enemies
Now unlikely friends have grown,
Like oil and water
Never thought to mix.
Everything else is a blur.

{Poem by Sabrina Mask}

One Poem by B. T. L.


Resurrecting Chivalry


I opened the car door
to the passenger's side,
and she walked around
to take the driver's seat.
She then yelled, "Toss
Me the keys, Bro!"
What a Lady!

{Poem by B. T. L.}

Two Poems by John L. Simonian, Jr.


The Cool Earth

Buried deep in the warm, cool earth
That comforts and soothes
The pain of the living
With a heart
That burns with love
That threatens to consume all of me
I lay and feel the coolness
Sate the fire
Cooling the embers of passion
Gone awry
I live and wait... and wait
Allowing time and the moist rich earth to
Save me from myself.


The Truth

Bleeds us dry
Gives us life
Cuts like a knife
And brings healing
Empties our vessels
But fills our hearts
Rips a hole
Deep in the soul
Setting free
The one true me.

{Poems by John L. Simonian, Jr.}

One Poem by Joseph Fecher


Conundrum

What is Truth? The truth is
You have everything you need.

If you need something,
You believe it is not yours to give.
If you believe it is yours to give,
You will give and receive at the same time.

As long as you need something,
It is not possible for you to have it.
As soon as you no longer need it,
It will appear in front of you.

You cannot receive what you are
Unable to give. And you can’t give
What you are unable to receive.
Remember you have everything you need.

{Poem by Joseph Fecher}