Monday, May 29, 2017

Ballad of the Fish by JD DeHart

Ballad of the Fish 

he swam upstream
slapping his body against
fate

they called him Sammy

soon he wondered
what dry land felt like
and put on some sandals

flash forward

Sammy is married and has
two children (modest amount
for a fish)

he hides his gills in public
but they all know there’s
something about him –
you could say something fishy,
but that would be too obvious

Rita, his wife, especially
suspects his secret every time
they go the river

or to the ocean
or to the sink

she lives in fear that
what she suspects is true
and then also lives in fear
that Sammy will discover
her secret

she is a sharp-beaked
predator at war with herself.


JD DeHart is a writer and teacher.  His writing has recently appeared at Cacti Fur and Oddball Magazine.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Memorial Day Moment By Desiree Cady

Memorial Day Moment
By Desiree Cady

They stand and fight
Put their lives on the line
Give up everything they have
Just to make sure our citizens are fine

March into battle bravely
Their strength pulls them through
They lose their lives
To protect me and you

Some come home from battle
Beaten and torn
Scarred from their memories
Their hearts are all worn

They deserve our respect
And yet so much more
They are the soldiers, our heroes,
The prisoners of war.

©2017 Desiree Cady All Rights Reserved

Happy Memorial Day 
And thank you to the many men and women who have fought, continue to fight, and will fight in the future to protect our America. Words cannot express my love and Gratitude


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 and am set to be published in an upcoming anthology that will come out mid - November.
You can find more of my work at
Www.Facebook.com/Gemini.allure 


Friday, May 26, 2017

Casey at the Bat (Villanelle) by Michael Ceraolo

Casey at the Bat (Villanelle)

Would he hit the circuit clout
we would need to win the game?
Surely Casey wouldn't strike out;

Casey knew what he was about.
One didn't get many chances for fame.
He would hit the circuit clout

should the occasion to arise.
No weak grounders, no pop flies,
and no chance he'd strike out.

Two made outs, two got on base,
and the look on Casey's face
said he'd hit the circuit clout

to win the Mudville nine the game
and garner for himself the fame;
inconceivable he'd strike out.

He took two called strikes by the ump,
and on the third he busted a hump.
Today there is no circuit clout.
Our mighty Casey has struck out.


Bio:  "Michael Ceraolo is a 59-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet and baseball fan. This poem is from a current project inspired by recently re-reading Casey at the Bat."

Monday, May 22, 2017

New Love Wonder by Desiree Cady

New Love Wonder

As the dawn of the day
Seeps through the blinds
I awake next to you
With happiness in mind

Not sure yet of what
Our future will hold
In my heart I hope next to you
I will be growing old

Our feelings are new
Though We have just met
I feel you understand me 
Better than anyone yet

I am scared of you
You scared of me
So afraid to fall and get hurt
If only the future we could see

Take a chance on me
And hand me your heart
I promise to cherish, love, and protect
Each and every last part.


©2017 Desiree Cady All Rights Reserved


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 and am set to be published in an upcoming anthology that will come out mid - November.
You can find more of my work at
Www.Facebook.com/Gemini.allure 

A Sign Is Just A Start by Joseph Powell

A Sign Is Just A Start

I see your sign--
Yes,
I see you,
marching on tired feet,
filling the streets,
raising your voices,
singing,
shouting;
yes,
I see you;
we all
see you.
But,
at the end of the day,
when the sun has gone down
and the singing stops;
and the tired feet
have marched
all the way home;
and the signs are put away
in garages
and closets
filled to overflowing--
what then?

I ask,
what is
your takeaway?
what is
my takeaway?
Mothers
are still losing sons;
sons
are still losing fathers;
women
are still going missing;
men
are still going to prison.
Laws
are being broken,
by those
who make them
and swore
to uphold them;
the rich
still do not care
about the poor;
the poor
still see no relief.

Yes,
a sign is just a start,
but
I know teachers
who are having to take
second and third jobs
just to make ends meet;
I see roads and bridges
crumbling all around us
and we’re talking about
paying for a wall
that may or may not
protect us.

A sign is just a start,
but I have friends
who are getting sicker
because we still
are arguing about healthcare.

And who are we
to think
that we are better
than someone
who doesn’t look like us,
or believe what we believe,
or love…
who made us
the arbiters of love?!

One man
or woman,
no matter how powerful
in stature
or wealth
is going to make
a lick of difference
if we, the people
choose not
to come out
from under our signs
and from behind our masks
and see each other,
not as
the “other”,
but as
the other side of
who we are.
We, the people,
all the people,
have to decide
to become better
than what we are,
what we’ve been.

A sign is just a start,
along with your marches,
your singing and
your shouting;
but,
at the end of the day,
I want
to see you,
all of you,
all of US,
getting to work.
A sign
is just a start.
A sign
is just a start.
A sign
is
just
a
start.
So,
let’s get started!

© 2017 Joseph Powell

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

You By Desiree Cady

You


You are the air that I breathe
The fire in my soul
You are what makes my life complete 
You are what makes me whole.

You are the stars in the sky
The dawn's early light
You're the one biggest reason 
to continue the fight. 

You are what God had in mind 
when he created the mold
Of His one perfect Angel 
everything to treasure, cherish and hold.

You're the warm summer breeze 
or cool winter night,
You are the sun in the sky
Shining your eternal light.

You are my daughters 
pulled straight from my womb
You were brought to this earth -- beautiful perfection to rid my world of gloom.

Mommy loves you Cadylynn and Jasmine to the moon and back and around the universe a few more million times.

©2016 Desiree Cady All Rights Reserved


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 and am set to be published in an upcoming anthology that will come out mid - November.
You can find more of my work at
Www.Facebook.com/Gemini.allure 


Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Moon Meditation by Neil Ellman



Moon Meditation by Richard Pousette-Dart


Moon Meditation

(after the painting by Richard Pousette-Dart)


Walking on the moon
in the breathlessness of dust
no wind, the cold
cutting like diamond blades of ice
through stone and skin
the first perhaps
the last
I walk in the shadow
of the gods
who came before.  
At the Sea of Tranquility
I am alone
with no one to guide me
but the stars
and no one to believe in
but myself.


Neil Ellman is a poet from New Jersey.  He has published numerous poems, more than 1,000 of which are ekphrastic and written in response to works of modern art, in print and online journals, anthologies and chapbooks throughout the world.  He has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize and twice for Best of the Net.

Editors Note: This is an ekphrastic poem and based on a work of modern art. The title of this poem is that of the original image (after the painting by Richard Pousette-Dart)

Dandelion in a Vase of Roses




Have you purchased your copy of Dandelion in a Vase of Roses yet? You requested info when the poetry anthology was available. Thank U. If you get a copy, do not forget to leave a "Like" on CreateSpace and a reader review on Amazon.com.


Editor-in-Chief Michael Lee Johnson/Co-Editor Ken Allan Dronsfield. Facebook poetry group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/807679459328998/ now over 12,930 members.



https://www.createspace.com/7090612 504 "Likes" on CreateSpace
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1545352089 11 reader reviews all 5 stars
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1545352089 2 reader reviews all 5 stars
Dandelion in a Vase of Roses, poetry anthology is breaking at the seams, 98 poets, 326 pages, representing 37 different countries and republics from all over the world. It is large 8 ½" x 11" large font size 14 for easy reading, poet photos and many illustrative pictures. It is a loaded anthology combining the best in professional contemporary poets of this day along with new emerging artistic poets. Inside its covers is a combination of Pushcart nominees, winners, Best of the Net such as chief editor Michael Lee Johnson, Janet Kuypers, A.J. Huffman, Joan McNerney, Gary Beck, Joanna M. Weston, Scott Thomas Outlar, Amy S. Pacini, Sandy Sue Benitez, and co-editor Ken Allan Dronsfield and many others.


Join us at Contemporary Poets, Their Works, Current Poetry Projects, News, Links

Thank you.

Cleveland Haiku #452 by Michael Ceraolo

Cleveland Haiku #452

Storm coming---
wind-whipped whitecaps
beneath dark clouds


Bio:  "Michael Ceraolo is a 59-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet with a long list of credits he won't bore you with now, though he can't guarantee he won't do so in the future. After competing recently in a haiku contest, he was inspired to start writing haiku again after more than a decade of not writing any."

Haiku by Lynn Long

Silver droplets fall
As dusk meets twilight in kiss
And I await night


Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Frankie Boy by John Grey

FRANKIE BOY

He tethered his pit-bull to the last fencepost standing.
He slept in an old truck on blocks.

Scars struggled with tattoos for control of his surfaces.
The stream behind the old mill was his personal washtub.
His old man died drunk and in debt.
His mother was a memory of bright red lipstick
forever missing the target of her lips.
He took odd jobs where he could.
And panhandled. And dealt. And used his fists
when convincing otherwise was required.

He had a brother who either died in the Gulf War
or was serving time in state prison.
depending on who you asked.
He tried to enlist but was turned down.
He drove an old Chevy with an exhaust like a farting Goliath.
Parents warned their children about him.
He played two roles in the lives of those kids  -
what could harm them, what they could become.

The cops were always stopping him to give him a hard time.
They were too late. He already had one.


John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Sheepshead Review, Studio One and Columbia Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Poem and Spoon River Poetry Review.  

In Flight by Joan McNerney

In Flight

A tree waves wooing
birds who fly from branch to branch
looking for a home.

Congregations of wrens
winging off to choral practice
stop at bird feeders first.

An outdoor concert.
Which is sweeter, the flute
or bird song in woods?

Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Blueline, and Halcyon Days.  Three Bright Hills Press Anthologies, several Poppy Road Review Journals, and numerous Kind of A Hurricane Press Publications have accepted her work.  Her latest title is Having Lunch with the Sky and she has four Best of the Net nominations. 

A Portrait of Self by Joseph Powell

A Portrait of Self
 
 
I am sound and fury,
signifying
everything;
strurm und drang,
wrapped in black skin;
I am
what a sinner looks like,
broken by grace;
the son,
my father never had;
the apotheosis
of blues incarnate
and undiluted jazz.
 
I am
the love-infused truth
of Baldwin;
I am,
Nina Simone
in a man’s body;
you read my words because
you can handle the truth.
 
I am
the city of broad shoulders,
and all its Bronzeville residents,
distilled to represent
light and shadow,
beauty and pain;
my name
is verisimilitude;
my name
is on the lips,
unspoken
by the one
who preached
the Sermon on the Mount.
 
I am
not what you think I am,
but I am,
what you need me to be;
touching you
to the very core of your soul;
I am
the moral of the story;
I am
the riddle,
wrapped in a mystery,
inside an enigma,
yearning to breathe free;
what love
looks like in public
and
in private;
your favorite myths,
if they were all true;
your wildest fantasies
that you need never feel guilty of;
the spark
that lit the candle of liberty;
the stream of consciousness
you want to keep rolling along.
 
I am
the dark knight;
the dark passenger;
the very dark itself,
penetrated by light,
as only light can penetrate.
 
I am
the very last line
of a never-ending poem…
 
to be continued.

Morning Rhyme by Nereida Tenderfoot Galvin


Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Starved Soul by Blanca Alicia Garza

Starved Soul

Take my skin and use
it as an empty canvas; 
write beautiful poetry 
upon my starved soul. 
Keep my spirit wrapped 
safely in your golden light;
your love is like a raging 
river within my heart.

(First published in "Apple Fruits of an Old Oak" Anthology)

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.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Haiku by Ann Christine Tabaka

A rainy spring day
World reflected in a puddle
Ripples grow outward


Ann Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware.  She is a published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer.  She loves gardening, the ocean, and her cats.  Her poems have been published in poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies.
 

The Jurist by William C Blome

THE JURIST

The greenish roses that loop about a silver
rain spout in the rear of a Topeka railroad station
that no longer services Kansas City or Wichita
have been termed “darlings” by people
quite a bit more muscular and brainier than me.
These roses bi-annually grow rapidly,
but I annually refuse to fall for the omnipresent
bromide about how the promise of vivid color
occurs lots of places in Mama Nature’s realm
and always overtakes the optics of her dullish
green, though I’m really not the jurist you’d want
to be in front of were the growth and color of roses
a life-and-death issue of your days here, or some
predictor of your chances to go wild-west, lasso,
and then hold onto a fortune. No, for that,
you’d want someone along the lines
of Adlai Stevenson, Mikhail Sholokhov,
or Billie Holiday, and you’d hope like hell
Katherine Mansfield and/or Edgar Degas
had earlier been coaxed to be on standby, or,
better yet, was actually waiting in the wings.


William C. Blome writes poetry and short fiction. He lives wedged between Baltimore and Washington, DC, and he is a master’s degree graduate of the Johns Hopkins University Writing Seminars. His work has previously seen the light of day in such fine places as Stanzaic Stylings, Poetry London, PRISM International, Roanoke Review, Salted Feathers andThe California Quarterly.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Free by Desiree Cady

Free

I remember you once told me
That I could not survive without you
Well sit back and prepare for the amazing things 
that I am about to do

For years I thought​ that it was you
That held me tightly together
But now I look back and I see
It was me who was withstanding the harshest weather

When you left I was so lost
I was just so damned scared
But looking back I see now
I was the only one that cared

I had so much love in my heart
Devoted to what I thought we were
That I would've never found the strength to leave
So I am thankful that you did it first

I am finally free to be the woman
That I once used to be
I am finally free to smile again
To find the beautiful side of me.

©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 currently wrapping up two manuscripts for publication and am set to be published in an upcoming anthology that will come out mid - November.
You can find more of my work at
Www.Facebook.com/Gemini.allure 


Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Cold Whispers By Desiree Cady

Cold Whispers

His words, they were nothing 
but cold whispers in the middle of the night
Caught up in the moment
But oh they felt so right

I try to tell myself that with time 
Some people's feelings change
But mine never did
And that's what I find so strange

His words they cut me deep
Right to the very core
Such cold and evil hatred
He'd never expressed before

So now I am wondering
That passion that I felt
Was it always truly one sided
Was that the hand that I was dealt?

Though every lie he told me
His words made my heart melt
His lying cold whispers they've left
My heart an empty welt.



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 and am set to be published in an upcoming anthology that will come out mid - November.

You can find more of my work at
Www.Facebook.com/Gemini.allure 

Monday, May 1, 2017

Pieces of Me by, Melissa R. Mendelson

Pieces of Me


White pages whisper in the wind,

hovering low to the ground

as I drag my feet,

uncertain of where I’m going.

Silence holds my mind

as my eyes fall on darkness,

afraid to face the dreams

that beg to be lived

not buried within.

Alone I stand,

surrounded by the pages

that yet have to be written.

The question burns

in a heart left cold

buried under vines of my soul

if time will continue to walk ahead

without a look back on the footprints

fading quickly behind me?

Will I become a ghost here,

another blank face in the crowd,

or will I find the courage

to take the pen,

write the pages

that whisper in the wind?