Two Poems by Kenneth R. Fox

Love

Attraction, desire
Both must inspire,
Joined in lust,
Mutual trust,
Common interests, compatible goals
Bound together, correlative souls,
Comfort level, intrinsic friendship
Conforming actions, joined at the hip,
Sharing the bitter, always understanding
Uniting in the joyous, so outstanding,
Maturing, expanding, building, raising
Listening, talking, nurturing, praising.


Rio

The green hills descend here upon blue ocean,
The sounds of samba ring out,
In a forest they call Tijuca,
A gigantic Christ statue, Corcavado,
Is perched upon the highest peak.
Vibrantly abuzz, floridly colorful,
Brazilians scurry everywhere.
A mountain so sweet they call it ‘Sugar Loaf’
Intrudes the Atlantic at the Bay of Botofogo.
Footballers pound glimmering white sands at Ipanema.
Shimmering islands beckon from a nearby sea.
This wonder they call Rio de Janeiro.

{Poetry by Kenneth R. Fox}

One Piece by Emma Stein

Tourists

Two girls
fanny packed and panting,
sunglasses covering their eyes completely
hands holding onto their
waists, for support,
stop to survery the anasazi ruin.
they see a sign:
140 feet climb, it declares
in chipping paint,
and turn away.
perhaps another day.

{Poem by Emma Stein}

Two Pieces by Jim Hunter

Unitled

Time lost
Is tinsel tossed
Reflecting silver touches of sun.


Untitled II

Give a gander
To the oleander
A robust bush of delicate boughs
Of pink purple flowers
That grow high to hide a house
From hot high noon New Mexico hours

{Poetry by Jim Hunter}

Two Poems by Brian Newton

Running Water

Running down a stream
A Little Majestic Scene
Water, what a thing


Waiting Tables

A server, ready to wait on you
Working the late shifts
In a small old dusty diner
Cold soup and day old bread
To put money in his hand

{Poems by Brian Newton}

One Piece by Maranda Russell

Finally

Abandoned child,
you left me here
to walk upon the sky.

You thought I'd fall
and break my crown,
dashed hopes are all around.

Misfortune fell,
I let you down
and found my pair of wings.

Now I'm alone
and I can sigh
relief as you drift away.

Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Life's good as you go by.

{Poem by Maranda Russell}

One Piece by Ron Koppelberger

Yearning Delights

The fond with trust unto adventures in aching desire, in
Proposals of wagered warmth, in unruffled caprice
And ready wills of cause, the impermeable smile,
Nevertheless a compelling quality of flowing secret
Anticipation, in avenues of tender yield, the marvel of
Imbued attentions in exquisite amore, in form and sure devices
Of love. The rapture in adoring dreams and sleepy
Devotions, in yearning delights of bliss
And beauty.

{Poem by Ron Koppelberger}

One Poem by Saren Coughlin

Presentation of a Virgin at the Temple

Look at them
They bow their foolish heads
Raise their arms
In praise
As the girl ascends
The marble steps
Beaming with unmistakable glory
Idiots
But me?
I turn my back to her
Disgust
A man being jostled about
Amongst the other spectators
He too looks away
The others look down on us now
But when the day comes
And the little girl’s prophecy does not
They will see!
They will see…

{Poem by Saren Coughlin}

One Piece by Peter Lattu

Halloween

the Virginia Florist window
marks the seasons
now
black cats
emerge
from silver kisses
spiders mice and rats
crawl and creep around
ravens
recall Poe
evermore
pumpkins
spell “boo”
and napkins
urge “vote”
in the Virginia Florist window

{Poem by Peter Lattu}

Three Poems by Frank LeRose

From Profiles

My own,
others together
I’ve seen and learned;
it is better to want
then to have

-the kiss-

for then the cause
is never ruined.


A Tired Refrain

The natural pose
is lost on me,
with no one there to see it
a picture is missed.

With no chance to stale,
it’s another form
of nonexistence.


Avalon

Despair stole Eostre’s breath.

There is no sound this season,
only vacuum.

A mortal wound lives in Avalon.

{Poetry by Frank LeRose}

Two Poems by Ron Koppelberger

Arts of Lace

The confederate crème in sugary
Syrups and brazen balm, an
Appeasing affair in junctions of absolution,
Tentative consideration and passion in cause,
Dignity in divine dress and infant arrays of
Rainbow crystal, the applause in diamond
Sought arts of lace.


Hazy Asylum

Rare, wicked wonder and wishes that beggar reason
And vagrant enchantments insure,
In resource and fine-spun webs of
Illusion. A bidden existence in rivers
And sylvan wild, in blossoms and rare
Sparrow song. A wanton gospel in
Moments of hazy asylum.

{Poetry by Ron Koppelberger}

One Piece by Arthur E. Pichou

Do Not Be Afraid of Blind Travelers

Do not be afraid of blind travelers;
grab an arm; pull
in a fervor
to keep him from tumbling,
not knowing the jags beneath.
A boy had ripped off
red, tattered socks
and begged at a courthouse
for cloth-wraps; the
lawyers breathed judgement, sniffed
purity, poverty; police stood
leering statues,
honorable enough; there is no point,
judging them.

{Poem by Arthur E. Pichou}

One Poem by Kevin Cole

Another Shutdown Morning

Another shutdown morning
Factory layoff silent
A welder's shield sunless
Fifth of July

A corner deli
Jobless outpost
For the bored and holloweyed
Grouped in need support
Reading prophecies
In cheap stained cups
In dregs of listless coffee

Politician rescue
Will crawl around
Hardship added in bricklayers
Promoted in media repetition
As a demanding challenge added

{Poem by Kevin Cole}

One Piece by Joanne Tolson

Treasures from the Earth

Come to us from the great universe
Where we reside.
Gold, minerals, and gems et cetera
Hide,
So we have to put things together
And figure this world out.
Piecing fragments together,
Digging out what's buried deep
Beneath the surface of the earth.

{Poem by Joanne Tolson}

One Poem by T. Anders Carson

An Oak's Last Fist

Elbow curved
in Autumn coloring bliss,
breezes blow the dawn.

{Poem by T. Anders Carson}

One Poem by Julie Paige

Taking Flight

Oh to have wings
I’d fly away
Leaving this life behind

I’d soar with the eagles
Dip for fish with pelicans
Sing with the warblers

My troubles would be over
When they came looking for me
I’d have taken to the sky

Following an ingrained migratory path
From here to there and back again
Procreating my main concern

Feeding my fledglings
Watching them leave the nest
Oh to have wings

{Poem by Julie Paige}

Two Poems by James Webb Wilson

Knee Deep in the Snow Drifts

Knee Deep in the snow drifts
Walking the fields and through wintry woods
Slowing the pace, checking fences
Lifting the boots high one at a time
Across the pre planned course
Direct, point to point, observing
The way the drifts were swerving.

Knee deep in the snow drifts
Watching blue jays fly at ease
While my boots grew heavy,
Walking through the woods
Leaving packages for squirrels and deer
Helping them through the storm
A little kindness to help warm humanity.


Barn Drifts

These were the barn drifts
White dunes rising slowly
Leaving empty channels in between
Long streaks of winter’s face
Tossed in the winds of frigid air.

These are the barn drafts
Shallow at the barn’s edges
Where the wind hits harder
And scatters snow and dreams
A like all over the farm.

These are the barn drifts
We had to shovel through,
To get the horses out,
To hitch them to the sleigh
For a ride across field drifts.

{Poetry by James Webb Wilson}

Three Breath Poems by Patrick T. Randolph

Silent Motion

Cold wet dew—
Moonlight on
A snake’s silk skin.


Motherhood

Robin’s beak—
Fat earthworm,
Euphoric chirps!


Reflection

Rain puddle,
A bird bathes
Inside the Sky.

{Poetry by Patrick T. Randolph}

One Poem by Joy Olree

Intended Fate

Away intended fate, last rites,
Last meals, the new beginnings,
And wipe the tears from my cheek,
Feed the hungry, free the slaves,
Give God what’s left,
Of all that he’s given,
Of rivers that are risen,
And mountains that are fallen,
And miseries born of joyous defeat,
The crimson blood that stains the streets,
Of vengeful Gods, and human pawns,
The fly who begged the spiders’ mercy,
The mother whose child refused to live,
And daddies who drank away the fear,
While ravens wallowed in the sand,
And oysters hide the jewels,
Of frogs who would be prince,
And girls who would be queen,
The ship has sailed the darkened sea,
The demons lair, the iceberg glare,
That sank the hopes of all who dared,
To dream the dream,
Of rainbows end and wishing stars

{Poem by Joy Olree}

One Poem by Simon Perchik

*

As a narrow breeze
peeled from some stone
every night a comet
wandering its rind and pits :an orchard
thinner and thinner
trailing itself, circling itself
sliced like the skin from an apple
soaking in water -each night

as if this stone in my hand
was made from your shadow
and your eyes like twins
coming from nowhere to open my hand
to get a better look
to lift the edge.

It's night
as kids will duck for fruit :the sun
swallowed with some sky
that tasted like water

and this stone no one sees anymore
holds down your shadow
and mine -nothing moves
except a stone
carried one shadow to another
scattering its dust
to rebuild the world, the hearts
Gemini once carried
and every night I call your name
twice, breathe into your name
as if a door would open
and a house appear, you

can't breathe out and the night
cuts everything in half, this breeze
never again two by two :each raindrop
alone, gusting under the ground
under my arms still carrying
this stone and doll-like evenings.

{Poem by Simon Perchik}

Evidence by Peter Lattu

Mary Oliver’s Evidence

Mary Oliver’s new book of poems, Evidence, continues to explore her familiar theme of how nature’s beauty can bring awe, amazement, inspiration and comfort. She begins with a quote from Kierkegaard: “We create ourselves by our choices.” She has certainly done that. Walking out into her natural surroundings in the early morning, she brings back to us poems about mockingbirds, wolves, yellow finches, swans, buzzards, deer, violets, bluebirds and pines. Even the grass does not escape notice and attention.

Her poems bring us more than just observations of nature explored during morning walks. In Evidence, she challenges us twice. First, in “To Begin With, the Sweet Grass”, she writes:

And, if you have not been enchanted by this adventure –
your life –
what would do for you?

Then again, in “Evidence”, she repeats:

… if you have not been enchanted by
this adventure – your life – what would do for
you?

This question is central to Mary Oliver’s life and poetry. She has clearly been enchanted by every day of her adventure. She shares this enchantment with us through her poetry.

Come, join her on her adventure as she carries her notebook out into spring, among the honey locusts, into the orchard, and to the pond. Walk along with her and look at the world through her eyes in Evidence. Share Mary Oliver’s joy in our common adventure, this life.

{Piece by Peter Lattu}

One Piece by Ron Koppelberger

A Cure for the Ghosts

The rattle of greater acts, in claim of welcome whim
And magic pampering legacy, indefinite in innocent invitation
To enchantress eager dance, bidden in quiet
Will and struggling fancy, a wild exhaustion in evening
Tide skills and dreaming gestures in rush,
A distinction in moldering demand and
Yawning ascent unto the indigo frayed horizon,
In pregnant beloved remembrance of beguiling existence
And quaky breach of ethereal bond,
A cure for the ghosts of mire and mayhem, an on again off
Promise to shades of eloquent depth and grinning
Masquerade in ash.

{Poem by Ron Koppelberger}

One Poem by Vandye Forrester

We Danced Until Dawn, You and I

We danced until dawn, you and I

The violins sang their midnight song
And to their cry we kissed and the new year surrounded
Us as we danced pressed to each other's breasts

The wine shimmering in the candlelight reflected your
Eyes. Never more lovely have been your form and face

We danced until dawn, you and I

Later as we lay side by side,
I tried

To imagine what life without you will be
I tried but the feel of you and your smell
And your taste

All came back haunting my memory

I reached out for you
One last touch. One last touch to remember

We danced until dawn you and I

I will remember the violins and their song

I will remember your kiss

I will remember your body and your touch and your mouth

I will remember the night we danced until dawn.

Happy New Year my smoothness

{Poem by Vandye Forrester}

A House Bathed in Blue Light

Suzanne Richardson Harvey’s book of poetry, A Tiara for the Twentieth Century (Fithian Press), is delicately written and lovingly given. She writes with the voice of a mother who has seen her children face pain and sorrow. While reading her poems, I feel connected to her. I appreciate her work, and I recognize that all good poetry tries to “sweep the floor of one’s soul clean,” while perhaps, bringing to light the things which have dirtied that floor.

Harvey creates new and interesting pictures with her poems. I accept these pictures as gifts. For instance, the clever woman in “The Perfect Matador,” “knew when to face the bull/At the instant when he’d paw.” In “Elegy,” “Memory is an importunate guest/ Arriving uninvited/ Laden with dubious baggage.” In “Marketing Fear,” we are enticed with, “How about a trip to hell this season?” The poet is aptly renamed “a giant eye.” The bulimic woman’s stomach is “a starved heart” that is “emptied daily with a finger tip.” The anorexic figure is “a sheet of cellophane.” And addressed to photographer Diane Arbus: “the camera (is a tool that) can abet the lie/ Or lay bare the wound of truth.”

Harvey writes for women, her sons, the aging, and the diseased. She tells that one son was “trying so hard, too hard/ To carve out his place” in the world. We have all committed this; relaxation and acceptance are habits of the wise. To her “Favorite Son,” “the magic of silence speaks.” With age, I think, silence becomes more attractive. “The Harp at Birth,” the book’s profound opening poem, celebrates the woman’s body. For from her womb comes life. “You (the woman) are the leaven/ Who will knead this loaf/ Into the bread of life.”

Much like a novel, the pages are purposefully arranged. One is meant to read them in the order that they are given. I thoroughly enjoyed my read, and I have learned that Harvey is my sister. Reading Harvey’s book, I feel proud to be a woman.

{Review by Melanie M. Eyth}

One Piece by Pearl Manne

Untitled

It happened in Paris one summer night
The rain showered down and there was little light
While I was walking down a narrow street
I bumped into the man I was sent to meet

His eyes were blue but opaque too
He was blind! He was blind! What shall I do?
"Sorry" he said, "to cause you such alarm.
"I never meant to do you any harm!"

"If I knew you and you knew me
Our thoughts might pleasantly agree".
His voice sounds deep and questioning and kind
Of one who has a keen and eager mind

"My heart is not a reflection of my sight
It's beat denotes the presence of some delight."
I could not speak--knew not his name
My face averted to hide my shame.

{Poem by Pearl Manne}