Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Convent in Primavera Mexico by Elaine Reardon

Convent in Primavera Mexico

She examines the eyes
to make her prognosis,
assesses the whole person
makes her pronouncement.

Todavia esta toxica—everything is toxic.
 She bundles three packages,
 labels written in her hand,
 herbs gathered on hillside and forest.

She knows I won't stay here.
I know behind adobe doors there 
are women who have traveled far
from all over Mexico and the Southwest.

The convent fills with grace and prayer.
She feeds from her garden,
prepares herbs gathered in the hill.

This wise old abbess 
of fire, earth, air, and water 
the beginning and ending for so many.


Elaine is a poet, herbalist, educator, and member of the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators. Her chapbook, The Heart is a Nursery For Hopepublished September 2016, recently won first honors from Flutter Press as the top seller of 2016. Most recently Elaine’s poetry has been published by MA Poet of the Moment, 
http://www.naturewriting.com and poetrysuperhighway.com.  Elaine lives tucked into the forest in Central Massachusetts and maintains a blog at elainereardon.wordpress.com


Find Me by Blanca Alicia Garza

Find Me   V2

If one day you look for me 
and you can't find me anymore, 
look into the poems that I
wrote to you, you'll find me there.

Close your eyes and feel me,
as I left a piece of my soul 
in every letter, in every word. 

Look for me in a Dandelion 
In a rainy day 
In a pristine white rose 
In a cloudy sky 
In our beautiful full moon
In a thunderstorm
In our favorite song 
In a crimson red dress 

Find me in your dreams
Feel me in your coldest night 

I will look for you
In a lonely night
In the core of my soul  
In a golden star
In our favorite song
In the sound of the rain 
In every tear I shed,
one by one until
there is no more,
no more you, no more I,
no more us. 

I will go quietly without 
interrupting your silence

If one day you remember me
and you can not find me 
do not look for me anymore 
this time I left to never return. 

Perhaps our love will 
fade like the words in
my old book of poems 

I will always  treasure 
our loving memories in
the shattered petals of 
a pristine white rose.

(Initially published on Indiana Voice Journal)

Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is a Poet from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Her poems are published in the Poetry Anthologies, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze", and "Dandelions in a Vase of Roses" now available at Amazon.com. Blanca's work can be found in  The Poet Community, Whispers, The Winamop Journal, Indiana Voice Journal, Tuck Magazine, Raven's Cage Ezine, Scarlet Leaf Review as well as Birdsong Anthology 2016, Vol 1.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Close by Blanca Alicia Garza

Close 

Although you are so
far away from me, 
you are close 
inside my heart. 
The most beautiful 
caresses are not 
just the ones that 
touch the skin,
but are also the ones 
that touch the soul 
without being beside 
one another.

(Initially published on Raven Cage Ezine)


Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is a Poet from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Her poems are published in the Poetry Anthologies, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze", and "Dandelions in a Vase of Roses" now available at Amazon.com. Blanca's work can be found in  The Poet Community, Whispers, The Winamop Journal, Indiana Voice Journal, Tuck Magazine, Raven's Cage Ezine, Scarlet Leaf Review as well as Birdsong Anthology 2016, Vol 1.

AT 62: Spectacle Island, Boston Harbor by Doug Holder

AT 62: Spectacle Island, Boston Harbor

It is time
to sit on an island
far away enough
from your
life to look
at it.

It is time
to notice
the slender waves of
the grass.

It is time for your worn shoes
on the warm gravel.

You shuffle
like a vaudevillian.
You let the wind
slap you affectionately
with fragrant 
ocean air.

You are no longer
a second-rate pugilist
boxing your
way into a corner.

And the flies
that buzz your pale, 
spindly limbs
with their blood lust--
you finally understand
they do
what they
must.


Doug Holder is the founder of the Ibbetson Street Press.  Holder has been published in a wide variety of journals and newspapers like: the Boston Globe, The Somerville Times, Bay State Banner, Rattle, Cafe Review, Constellations, Boston Literary Magazine. etc.. He has a new poetry collection coming out   Last Night at the Wursthaus ( Grey Sparrow Press). He teaches at Endicott College in Beverly, MA. and Bunker Hill Community College in Boston.  http://dougholder.blogspot.com

Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene   http://dougholder.blogspot.com
Doug Holder CV   http://dougholderresume.blogspot.com
Ibbetson Street Press  http://ibbetsonpress.com
Ibbetson Street Online Bookstore  http://lulu.com/ibbetsonpress
Poet to Poet/Writer to Writer  http://poettopoetwritertowriter.blogspot.com
Doug Holder's Column in The Somerville Times ( Online and Print)   http://www.thesomervilletimes.com/community-arts

Friday, July 14, 2017

Breakfast with Ted by Donal Mahoney

Breakfast with Ted

No one goes to the patio now  
except at night when Ann
goes out to spread old bread 
and sunflower seed
on the small table for birds 
to eat at dawn.

The next morning
she gets up early and
watches the birds from 
the breakfast nook
where she and Ted
would sit and marvel  
at the pecking order.

First the sparrows arrive 
and eat as fast as possible
before the cardinals and jays
come and take command.
Then the starlings land 
and raise a ruckus 
even when the table
is theirs alone.

The starlings leave
like jets on a mission and 
in just a few minutes 
two doves drop down.
One walks behind the other 
and they eat whatever 
is left behind.

It’s no wonder Ann’s partial
to one of the doves. 
He reminds her of Ted
and lets the other dove 
walk ahead and eat
the best of what is left. 
His feathers are always 
perfectly in place, same 
color as Ted’s hair.


BIO: Donal Mahoney lives with his wife in Belleville, Illinois. He writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction, His work has been published here and abroad.