Showing posts from March, 2017

Confessions by Lynn Long

ConfessionsThe hand writeswhat theheartdesiresThe mindhas nocontrol

Pen to paperwords arewritten asconfessionI am told

Within ourselvesthe truthis hiddenWaiting to befree

Desireshopesdreamsand wishescalling out tothee...

Lynn is an aspiring writer/novelist.

Illuminated Reflections by Blanca Alicia Garza

Illuminated Reflections 
Another day gone by The Moon risesupon the velvet sky Thoughts of you come and go like waves Making storms rise beneath my skin My blood flows like lava through my veins My heart races, my nerves thrill to your touch The warm gentle breeze caressing my hair As I hear your name gently whispered upon the windI was trying to write you a poem but I thought I saw your face in my old tattered notebook But it is was only the illuminated reflection of the Full Moon. It's early morning now and I'm still awake desiring your presence as my lonely heart weeps in silence.
(Initially published on Indiana Voice Journal)
Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Some of her poems are published in the Poetry Anthology, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze", now available at Blanca's published work can be viewed at The Poet Community, Whispers, The Winamop Journal, Indiana…

Weathering by Yuan Changming

In the climate of my heartYou will evaporate into the blueIf I am too hot; or become frozenIf too cold; but you will alwaysRemain clear, soft, pure, readyTo flow gracefully, as longAs the temperature is mild enough Yuan Changming, nine-time Pushcart and one-time Best of Net nominee, published monographs on translation before moving out of China. With a Canadian PhD in English, Changming currently edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Yuan in Vancouver; credits include Best Canadian PoetryBestNewPoemsOnline, Threepenny Review and 1279 others across 38 countries.

Untitled by Rachel Tucker

I wandered aimlessly. I had no direction and wanted none. I was done. There was no fight left in me. I had taken her from doctor to doctor looking for a different diagnosis, a different prognosis, anything that would keep her alive. Nothing worked. No one could save her. I buried her yesterday. I have nothing more to live for. She was my everything. The sun to my moon, the yin to my yang. We were all that ever mattered in my life. Now there’s not even a child to remind me of her. We lost our only child years many ago in infancy. There isn’t even pain now. There’s just a dull ache where she used to fill me up. A vast emptiness that no one will ever be able to fill. Finally, weary to the bone and feeling totally used up I stopped walking. I hadn’t realized that I’d walked so far. The tree is stark but the sun shining through it speaks to me somehow. I don’t quite understand what’s happening but I feel…something. I continue to gaze up at the sun coming through the tree and I realize that…

Sometimes I Wish by Julie Petersen

Sometimes I Wish

Sometimes I wish I had no eyes
So they wouldn’t see you not seeing me
Sometimes I wish my heart couldn’t break
So there were no pieces to pick up again and again
Sometimes I wish I could forget you
Just to remember the calm before the storm
But then after all this wishing, I think of…
How my eyes will never see life the same again without you
How my heart never beat any stronger since I met you
And how everything has changed forever because of loving you

© Julie Petersen November 22, 2016

Julie Petersen is a poet and amateur photographer. Her work has been published in Tuck MagazineIndiana Voice Journal, the Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze anthology, which can be purchased on Amazon, and will soon be published in the Dandelion in a Vase of Roses anthology. Julie is planning to release her first chap book of poetry in the near future. Her writer page can be found on Facebook.

Vapor Trail by JD DeHart

Vapor Trail
following the path of what has been left behind a brief memory splash or flock of memories
there was a wooden ship, the biggest toy imaginable, so big it was not a toy, but it was treated like one
the smell of smoke, a confluence of ash trays
there was an old man like a father, but not a father, the memory of his death now lost, an old lady who might or might not have been sane
there was rain, an uncomfortable time, digging a grave, feet splashing in mud
that's where the vapor becomes wisp and disappears with nothing but a name barely used anymore.

JD DeHart is a writer and teacher.  He blogs at

Reawakening & Miracles by Daginne Aignend

Two little blackbirds searching diligently for fallen twigs Determined to build a cozy home for their offspring Marvel, the tomcat, rolls on his back cherished by the mild April sun Mom and I are sitting on the terrace, drinking fresh made coffee I love the soothing fragrance of the lilacs and hyacinths A natural aromatherapy for the mood and nerves
A while ago, our family was struck down when my mom was diagnosed with this horrible fatal disease The world looked harsh, the days painted in somber, dark gray Since that day, we decided every new day was a little present
Mom and I are admiring the fresh green color of the young sprouts of the birch trees in our garden as the postman arrives and hands mom a letter 'Complete remission' Springtime, the season of reawakening and miracles

Amidst the Cherry Blossoms by Colleen Keller Breuning

Amidst the Cherry Blossoms
As the sun sits high on its throne pink rain falls in delicate petals cherry blossoms scatter the joy and the earth laughs in flowers.
The cool breeze blows lightly     caressing our delicate white skin            eliciting goosebumps and shivers as we delight in the fruits of nature.
 Walking with you in the golden sunshine                  hand in hand, hearts entwined     oblivious to discord, we trip on gnarled roots and down the rabbit hole we fall.
As night descends with blackened fears         wrapping us with a cold shawl              we look upward, pondering the meaning of our existence.
But the distant light glows in radiant pulses                  our salvation, our beacon of hope              for when it is dark enough, you can surely see the stars.
Come along with me, my love       lift me up in light or dark,             dare to dream beneath the smiling moon the unthinkable, the unimaginable….
…. do you dare?
Colleen Keller Breuning © 2017

Love's Sweet Reverie by Lynn Long

Love's Sweet Reverie
You are a memory, lost within dream Awakening my soul before time seen Only in moonbeams I remember sweet The love we felt on a warm summer night The euphoria spent in Autumns light As our bodies entwined becoming one Igniting passion beneath celestial sun Destined to meet in blissful reverie Our souls sing in perfect harmony Alas, where we begin... we must also end For our love exists in dreams hidden So eternally within loves abyss I will meet you always to share a kiss

Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.

A Faint Trace of Light by Melissa R. Mendelson

A Faint Trace of Light
It wasn’t our first date. We actually had been dating for a few months now, but the dates were more of friendship than what he wanted. I knew that eventually his patience would run out, and tonight, it did. And his car ran out of gas, leaving us in a tight space, waiting on a tow truck, and it was here, where he made his move, not taking No for an answer. So, I left, now stranded in the cold woods that surrounded me.
I could hear him yelling for me to get back into the car, but I ignored him. Maybe, if he wasn’t so rough, I would change my mind. Maybe, if he wasn’t pushing me into the backseat, I would say that I was wrong. I knew that eventually we would do it, but not in a car, not like this. This was all wrong, and suddenly, his car sprung to life. And he floored it down the road, disappearing from sight. I’m sure his car would die again, and I hoped that he too would be left stranded in the woods. But still, where did that leave me?
It was getting colder now. I…

Reflection of broken mind By Desiree Cady

Reflection of broken mind
Why is it that they call it dark  These feelings that I feel? Don't they know I need to tell In order for my mind to heal?
I do not think this pain should be  Thought as negative or wrong Some people keep it locked up inside  That doesn't mean that I am not as strong
For many years I let my pain  Stay buried deep within But I began to feel like I would burst At the slightest prick of a pin
So now I let it out  Wear my heart upon my sleeve Hoping my words help others Find strength and in themselves believe
I do not have it all figured out Of that I must admit I am still working on it day by day Each one I get better if only just a bit
©2017 Desiree Cady 

Neighbor by Jerry Durick

NeighborAt his funeral, we
filled a whole pew.
“The neighbors,”
I heard someone say.
Family and other friends
made a modest crowd
in a church that size
at that hour, an hour
just a few weeks ago
he would have been out
working on his lawn
picking up this or that
raking, sweeping, making 
his yard, his world a bit
better than he found it.
We, neighbors knew him
that way, a nod, a wave
a joke about whatever
he or we were doing
sometimes a longer visit
little more, in that way
he was there making
our neighborhood, his
world better than 
when he found it.

Satin Red and Strawberry Daiquiri by Blanca Alicia Garza

Satin Red and Strawberry Daiquiri 
There is ink upon his skin.  A sweet poem wrapped  in flesh and bones.  Sin dressed in black,   lips of strawberry daiquiri. Sweet temptation that  I would love to read with my fingertips, between every line, between every word until the last chapter.  Learning the entire story  that hides there behind his beautiful  deep blue eyes.  To write the beginning  of a new story among satin red sheets.
Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Some of her poems are published in the Poetry Anthology, "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze", now available at Blanca's published work can be viewed at The Poet Community, Whispers, The Winamop Journal, Indiana Voice Journal, Tuck Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review as well as Birdsong Anthology 2016, Vol 1.

Thoughts From The Saddle: A Cowboy's Musings by Barney Cissell Book Review

More Details and Ordering Instructions on Amazon

This is the first time I have experienced cowboy poetry. I have always loved western cinema and cowboy tales but have never read cowboy poetry until now. I have to say, after reading this book I am thoroughly enchanted by this genre. The poetry has an air of contemplation and brings forth the emotions of everyday life along the range. There are a couple of poems which stand out. One being A Cowboy's Heart which speaks to love and loss with an emphasis on healing. It is beautifully styled and explores the intricacies of the heart. Another is Dad's Ol' Boots which personally gripped at my heart, bringing back memories of my own father.

This book is filled with life and love and told with a contemplative voice that sets the stage for a wonderful calm and introspective read.

I highly recommend this book.

Review by:
Joanne Olivieri Editor
Stanzaic Stylings

Antennas of Absence by Sudeep Adhikari

Antennas of Absence
“The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.” ― Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space
I look at the mosaic of corroded bricks,   on the skin of an earthquake ridden house in my neighborhood. Almost a Pollock's  like painting of an overpowering absence. I can't unfeel it.
What have you in your innermost depths? What is the grammar of your mute,  which speaks the language of a melting day? What is the color of infinity, trapped inside the cuboids of your incomplete death?
Questions translate to answers in themselves,   and absence is not always a void. Right on its thin concrete slab, a bird sits and watches over an anxious city, sending radio-waves to satellites of unnamable aches. 

Bio:Sudeep Adhikari is a structural engineer/Lecturer  from Kathmandu, Nepal.   His recent publications were with   Red Fez , Kyoto  , Your One Phone Call, Jawline Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, Yellow Mama, Fauna Quarterly, Beatnik Cowboys…

Daddy's little girl by Desiree Cady

Daddy's little girl
He was filled with nervous energy As he took her hand in his Being in the church on this day Was an event he'd never miss 
He took his place beside her As she wore that white dress His heart filled with pride There was something he needed to address
He said, " You are the most beautiful girl That  I have ever known I enjoyed every moment with you  Watched you over the years as you've grown"
"I am about to watch you leave me Take the next step in your life I am about to give you to this man You are about to be his wife"
He turned to the groom With a protective gleam in his eye Said, "This is Daddy's little girl, Don't you ever make her cry"
"Consider this a warning This girl is my everything If you ever cause her harm Hell on you I promise I will bring"
"Treat her like a princess Love her like a queen Show her what the word love is Show her what it means"
To her he turned As a tear fell from his eye, "You'll always be …

Dearest Deborah by Michael Brownstein

DEAREST DEBORAH Sometimes behind a curtain, An antique closet with a hundred pieces of gold Or a young man carving Jatoba wood into frames Or monarch butterflies, milkweed, and healthy hair.    Behind the door, a simplicity of sound And in this room, the sweet sweat of huckleberry juice. I cannot choose enough of any of these. I can choose you, like a forest of rain. Never is it enough to seek a clean place Freshly imprinted with the small of your foot, Decorated with the easy touch of your fingerprints, And all of the breath in my world Has this need to be knotted with All of the breath in yours. Will crab grass grow stronger after the storm? This part is not in me. I can Build a porch, change a fitting, Lay out a pallet of down. This is in me. I can quilt a blanket, Tune the strings of my kora, Find a place to be with you forever And later, when you come upon me late, It will not matter what came before. I am in luck because of you.

Only by Allison Grayhurst

Only Across the clouds like razor blades, the thin path I planned to wander, expanded, and I moved into territories of self-loathing. I could not keep hold of the grail or of purity of thought and deed. I can only remain with the ghost on my shoulder and the demon polluting my love. I can pace my inner room and never find a solution. I will always be chained to the soil, imagining the bright orb of heaven.

BIO: Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Three of her poems have been nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015, and she has over 950 poems published in more than 400 international journals and anthologies. Her book Somewhere Falling was published by Beach Holme Publishers, a Porcepic Book, in Vancouver in 1995. Since then she has published twelve other books of poetry and seven collections with Edge Unlimited Publishing. Prior to the publication of Somewhere Falling she had a poetry book published, Common Dream, and four chapbooks published by The Plowman…

When By Desiree Cady

When By Desiree Cady
I miss our love  When it was fresh and new When there was so much passion In everything that we'd do
When each and every touch  Came as a pleasant surprise  When we would get lost in each other Completely mesmerized
When there was not a single doubt That you liked what you saw When the desire in your eyes Showed a love that was raw
When each and every day Wasn't more of the same When living this life Didn't seem so mundane
When a single thought of you  Put a smile upon my face Before all of the magic Disappeared without a trace
When I knew just what to do To get us back on track To rekindle the flame To get that fiery spark back
When I didn't have to question If your love for me was true When I could see all your love  In everything that you'd do
When I was sure of my place Inside of your heart When I knew where I fit in When I possessed every part
When I knew that I was all that you wanted Everything you'd ever need When being in my life Didn't just seem like another deed

My Voice by Blanca Garza

My Voice 
My world teeters  but I will not fall
I'm standing here tall and proud  No matter what  life throws at me 
I'm making my own path  with the stones  that I stumble on
Will not follow the crowd 
My dreams could be scattered by the wind  like pieces of a dandelion 
But if I can touch a heart  with my words, if I can  make someone think  twice before they act, then my work wasn't in vain.
Although I cannot see the rest of the way, I keep going, always forward, stepping strongly, raising dust.
Leaving my mark along the path  Always with my head up never looking down  Getting up if I fall.
Sowing kindness and love  for if someday I have  to take a step back
I'll never give up  Holding my dream tight,  It won't matter if I  make my hands bleed
My writing is my voice  and it will remain  when I'm gone.
Bio: Blanca Alicia Garza is from Las Vegas, Nevada. She is a nature and animal lover, and enjoys spending time writing. Some of her poems are published in the Poetry Anthology, "Moonlight Dre…

A Good Day by Jerry Durick

A Good Day

I can picture him there
waiting in the wings
ready, always ready
to step center stage

His grace and his wit
worthy of attention
worthy of applause
and standing ovations

two, three curtain calls
reviewers hurrying off
framing his performance
comparing him well to

even the best of them
the smiling winners
who got to say their say
who got to sing their song

I picture him there, quietly
adjusting his appearance
without a mirror, all he has 
is his imagination and his

ability to picture himself
waiting in the wings
imagining himself, ready
to step center stage.

Fragments of Yesterday’s Past by Melissa R. Mendelson Book Review

Fragments of Yesterdays Past by Melissa R MendelsonInformation and Ordering:  Amazon

Fragments of Yesterday’s Past by Melissa R. Mendelson is an introspective journey exploring memories from days past.  It speaks to fear, anxiety and the negativity our own thoughts can bring to our lives.
Melissa is a poet at heart with a storytelling style that I have always enjoyed.  Her works speak the truth from the heart and soul.  This particular book will have you, as the reader delving into your own past and becoming aware of feelings you have never expressed.  It will have you at times shedding a tear and other times becoming inspired.
The poem Myself is an introspective look into a life of wrong choices who as a shy girl just wanted to accomplish her dreams.
The poem Ivory Petal with a line that stood out for me as no other throughout the entire book is “Love is the dead rose in a cloudy vase.”  That one line encapsulates in my opinion the essence of the entire book.  Dark? Yes but in an inspiri…

The Cellaring by Ken Allan Dronsfield Book Review

The Cellaring: Poems from a Darkling Side of the Shadowed MindPaperback by Ken Allan DronsfieldInformation and Ordering  Amazon

The Cellaring by Ken Allan Dronsfield will keep you captivated by fear, excitement, gripping darkness and wit.  After each poem, I found myself saying WOW!
Ken is the master of imagery.  He, Sylvia Plath and Edgar Allen Poe altogether would have had their own poetry empire.  What I enjoy most about his poetry is the way the endings will surprise you, entertain you and having you sit up and take notice.
Ken also has a voice which allows for effortless ebb and flow with traditional style as in the poems Time Not Sleeping, Hounds Delight and many more.  It is rare to find a poet who can write this type of verse and make it work.  I truly enjoy this type of writing.  If you like Poe, you are going to love Time Not Sleeping.
Pink Flower (A Requiem For Death) is a beautifully sculpted piece sharing an eloquent message.  So many of the poems, if not all have creatively …