Posts

Showing posts from April, 2017

Cleveland Haiku series by Michael Ceraolo

Image
Cleveland Haiku #431
Geese sit on the lake--- temporary buoys bobbing on the water


Cleveland Haiku #432
Just above the shore--- a signpost with the sign missing in action


Cleveland Haiku #433
Lake view--- the illusion of gray and green water


Cleveland Haiku #434
"Park closes at dark" Yet there are lights on the tennis courts


Cleveland Haiku #435
Plastic bags flying as flags on some bare trees

BIO: I am a 59-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had one full-length book (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press) and a few shorter-length books published, and has a second full-length book, Euclid Creek Book Two, forthcoming from unbound content press.

Blush by Alicia Garza

Image
Blush
If my hands could touch your body
like my words have
touched your heart,
I could write a love poem
while running my fingers
through your soul.
The most beautiful poems
are not written on paper but,
rather traced upon the
contours of the skin,
and read through whispers
and moans making even the
Moon blush.
(First Published in "Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze" Anthology.)











Click Here for Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze on Amazon.com

You can also find Alicia's poetry at Dandelion In A Vase Of Roses on Amazon.


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 Amazon.com. 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, Anthology "Dandelion in a …

Stars by Lynn Long

Stars
A kaleidoscope  Of iridescent diamonds Illuminate night


Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.

The Hedgerow Fairies by Lynn White

The Hedgerow Fairies

Where have they gone,
the hedgerow fairies 
in their harebell hats?
I used to see them sitting
under their leafy roofs 
stitching their summer dresses
of poppy and mallow petals
with long silk threads 
catching the summer sunlight
as the smiling spiders spun.
I miss them so,
the hedgerow fairies
in their harebell hats.

I used to see them collecting
armfuls of meadow sweet
to stuff their nighttime mattresses,
making doorways in their new
toadstool homes with sharp stones.
Maybe they’ve gone underground
to escape the passing cars and tractors.
Maybe they only come out at night now
and stitch and stuff under the moonlight.
I don’t know.
But I miss them so,
the hedgerow fairies
in their harebell hats.

First published in Vox Poetica,  2016




Bio:
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. Her poem 'A Rose For Gaz…

To Thee by Joanne Olivieri

Image
Photo by Joanne Olivieri A tribute to Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd to his Love


To Thee
Upon thy lips pure nectar sweet I share a kiss with thee
For soft as silk I pray thee will come love and be with me
Unto thine eyes  my soul decree  thou heart to cherish be
As pure as light my love this night I freely give to thee.

http://joanneolivieri.weebly.com/

Lack of Lamps by David Francis

Lack of Lamps


In the cheap hotels
where the porter sleeps
in the stagnant air
coming through the window

in all the rooms
no matter the area
no matter the station
no matter the floor

so you cling to streetlights
you notice simple fountains
you look for the sun
you look in her eyes

someday you will ask
someday you will buy
but they will never give
they will never give

they will only give flowers
they will give the special of the day
they will give you the key
they will give you water

but there is a famine
there is a shortage
there is a lack
and you have to compensate

you have your vision
you have your hearing
you smell the food
that tastes so good

you turn the light off
you feel the darkness
you wonder about time
you sleep to wake

you listen hard sometimes
you laugh at private jokes
the darkness is without
the fire you have within



Biography:
David Francis has produced six albums of
songs, one of poems, and "Always/Far,"
a chapbook of lyrics and drawings.  His
film "Village Folksinger" has been screened
in th…

Call of the Wild by C. David Hay

Image
Photo by Joanne Olivieri - Ocean Beach Sunset 



Call of the Wild
The call of the wild is a restless voice Of wind and sky and sea; Beckons all — both great and small With the yearning to be free.
It drives snow geese in autumn skies And answers the coyote’s cry; Blows in the mist of mountain crests And lifts the eagle high.
The thunder of the river’s plunge, The whisper of the desert’s dune; Nature sings a thousand songs To her jeweled and mystic tune.
The call of the wild is a will within To venture where few have trod, With a captive sound that makes hearts pound — It must be the voice of God

(Previously published in Ya'Sou! Ezine)

C. David Hay is a retired dentist living in Indiana and Florida. He received his BS  and Doctor of Dental surgery Degrees from Indiana University. He is the author of five books of poetry which are dedicated to his wife, Joy. He has been widely published nationally and abroad and his poetry has been read on the British Broadcasting Channel. He was the first American publ…

I Will Survive by Desiree Cady

I Will Survive

I will survive  Because it was not too long ago That I once walked away From a devil in disguise 
I will survive Because I have been broken down before Though this time without you There is a lack of life sparkling in my eye
I will survive  because I know that as much as it hurt before It hurts a thousand times more now But there is one thing I still have in this life
I will survive Because I have two beautiful girls I have to survive because I am their hero And there is no doubt that they are mine
I will survive  Though I don't have the slightest clue how But I will survive because how I handle this Will teach my children how as they watch with their innocent angel eyes
©2017 Desiree Cady

Bio I am a 33 year old mother of two beautiful girls who have been my saving grace. After a brutal attack a few years ago, I have been plagued by PTSD. After the attack and a few suicide attempts, I vowed to tell my story and help inspire others to get help and to know that they are not alone.  I am curr…

Heart Over Mind by Desiree Cady

Image
Heart Over Mind
They say follow your heart She is supposed to know the way But she is running away with my emotions Which is making for a wonderful today
What if she is falling  Just a little bit too fast? So scared she may be wrong Lord knows she was in the past
So she has decided To have a conversation with her mind Despite what her heart says She will take each day one at a time
She will not put up those walls Guard herself from possible pain There is no need to judge this ray of sunshine By the ones who brought her rain
Live in the very moment Take a step away from the past The mind says give it a chance Maybe the heart is right... Maybe this one will last

Bio I am a 33 year old mother of two beautiful girls who have been my saving grace. After a brutal attack a few years ago, I have been plagued by PTSD. After the attack and a few suicide attempts, I vowed to tell my story and help inspire others to get help and to know that they are not alone.  I am currently wrapping up two manuscripts for publication…

Medley and April Blue by Joan McNerney

MedleyApril quietly turnsemerald green.Breezes shake appleblossoms… an aromaticblizzard.Listen to this softsymphony of raindrops.After showers, gardensof stars flower.Evening is the dawnof night time.Meteors write poetryacross heaven.



April BlueThis is when we search forcolor to transform cold grey.Rainfall begins its magichigh lighting sky blue.We see stacks of luminous cloudsas plants pop out and forsythiabursts sparkling yellow stalks.Just today a breath of warmthbrought alive crepe myrtle.Aromatic lilac bushes cluster insoft bunches while birds and bugsencircle them.  Ten trees all dressedup in lustrous greens boogie throughnoontime breezes.Spring is waiting for us!

What Comes Next by Jerry Durick

What Comes Next
“This is the Hour of Lead – 
Remembered, if outlived"Like a freezing person 
recollects the cold – 
I feel the hour of lead, 
that formal feeling 
come on -- 
the way she said it would – 
the careful phone call 
the messages, arrangements, 
flowers and all – 
my ceremonious nerves
and my questioning heart
as stiff as mechanical feet
go about their business
the wooden way
of outliving this new pain
and, of course, this feeling 
that follows me
like a shadow.

Moon by Lynn Long

Moon
Your light inspires Illuminating the night Embracing my soul


Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.







Haiku Series 1 by Joanne Olivieri

Image
Summer rains the urban pavement a concrete ski slope



orange sunset tequila sunrise at last call



beach bonfire his alcohol breath fuels the flames




sunbathing she burns toast for breakfast



morning sun rises across Eastern skies an orange smoothie



desert Summer sans humidity her hot flash lingers




cumulus clouds pattern the sky cotton candy



moonlight stroll a spider webs his way through darkness



hot air balloons his speech goes in one ear and out the other




Summer night crickets scatting jazz tunes my ear wax gone



midsummers dream fantasies in high definition



sunrise minuet he hits the snooze button and sleeps in




high tide low tide the yin yang of it all



quietude envelops the trees leaves speak foreign tongues ancient manuscript



a diverse species hugging limbs sharing the wind’s breath




mingling leaves standing free a natural commune



union square a frenzied chaos cries without you



a nonsensical delirium on the rocks shaken not stirred, Cheers!




cherry blossoms blanket barren branches Spring snowflakes


White Roses by Blanca Alicia Garza

White Roses 
A white rose and hear "I Love You" from your lips  was all I wanted 
The "I Love You" got stuck in your pride
The White rose waits in a notebook  of unfinished poems 
A love left hidden  in the shadows 
A love left to starve to death 
Perhaps love has given me  more thorns than roses; but it was my choice to  turn them into the most  beautiful pristine bed of white roses.
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 Amazon.com. 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.

Stone Cold Kiss by Melissa R. Mendelson

Image
Once upon a time, there was this little girl, who lived in the woods. She was raised only by her grandmother. Her parents, she never knew. Her grandmother once sadly slipped and said that her mother was the most precious fairy of them all, but alas, she died in childbirth. The father had no mention, and it was only after her grandmother’s passing did this little girl realize that her grandmother had been hiding her from the world, a world that she was now lost in, a world that never knew her name. Alone, she wandered, living off scraps and on the kindness of strangers. Nobody really talked to her. Nobody asked her about her name. They took care of her for one night and then demanded for her to be gone the very next day. At first, she was okay with this arrangement, traveling to strange lands and enjoying breathtaking sights, but one day when crossing the river, she spied a young man in a boat nearby, kissing a young girl. Why was he kissing her, the little girl asked, and the older man…

The Gang by John Grey

THE GANG       
smoking, rooftop sunning, MTV at all hours, McDonalds, Boston Baked Beans and Red Hots. pilfered cigarettes, beer thanks to a kid of 21 we knew -
fished, paddled, tried to water ski, stifled giggles at the shy parade of a girlfriend's first bikini
played piggy-back in the water, splash wars, near-drownings, followed by bottle rockets at twenty paces
gritted out teeth at school's twelve year lashing program - hated teachers and cops - fed our lockers on whatever didn't embarrass us
in sleazy neighborhood shop windows, yearned for a piercing and a dragon tattoo
ate footlongs, drank root-beer, at home football, dodged questions like "how come you're not out there on the field?"
competed in peeing contests, literally, peeing contests nearest to the ceiling was king - purred over an elder brother's first wheels
and carved - wherever we could we carved - trees, desks, light poles — no presence went unrecorded
these days, we meet and drink. play poker and rap
this is some of the stu…