Monday, July 31, 2017

The Memory of Dolphins by JD DeHart

The Memory of Dolphins

Remember, I ask, the dolphins
or porpoises, their beautiful shadows
cavorting in the waves?
We felt so lucky to see them then.

When, you ask, when was that?
It was just a few years ago when we
went walking one morning, getting
our toes in the lukewarm water.

But the memory is gone, a photo that
has been destroyed, an event that
may as well have never happened.

Such is reality, I suppose.

(first appeared at Verse Virtual.)



JD DeHart is a writer and teacher.  He blogs at jddehartpoetry.blogspot.com.


Thursday, July 27, 2017

Untimely Goodbye By Desiree Cady

Untimely Goodbye

Our journey is ending far too soon
We have only just met
I'm not ready to say goodbye
Not prepared for it to end just yet

In my head I had dreams
Of building a life together
Now it seems that's all changed
As quickly as the weather

I know it's not your fault
And it's not what you would choose
We just found this new love
One we are nowhere near ready to lose

Not sure now just what
Our future is going to bring
But let me tell you this
I want you to know this one thing

You came into my life
Like a breath of fresh air
Picked me up and gave me strength
Showed me how someone can truly care

I will never forget what it is
That you and I share in our hearts
The love I have for you will still be real
Even when we are miles apart.

©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 


empty beach by Theresa A. Cancro

empty beach . . .
within footprints
the sunset



Bio: Theresa A. Cancro writes poetry, short fiction and nonfiction. Dozens of her poems and short fiction pieces have been published internationally online and in print. She strives to find sparks of wonder in the ordinary.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Supernova Rhythm by Peter Magliocco

Supernova Rhythm


Does it roll into you,
the musical vibe from nowhere
inculcating us with sweet sounds
until our minds remember her
with the first dream of beauty
holding forth
throughout the breadth of time:

walk with me beyond banal wend
where old shadows multiply
with a thousand shades of darkness
swallowing your cat in inky stew
for the void to feast on

the hunger never satisfied,
the autumn wind never gentle
enough for us to settle beneath
& count blessings of another day
to parcel out between us

immeasurable smiles of lyrical suns
bringing what we really believe in
make us hold the wayward day
to lips singing down the last sunset.




BIO:  Peter Magliocco writes from Las Vegas, Nevada, and occasionally edits the lit-zine ART:MAG. His latest poetry book is Poems for the Downtrodden Millennium, from the Medulla Review Publishing.

A Blue-Gray Sky by Wayne Scheer

A Blue-Gray Sky

The blue-gray summer sky
hints at a bright, sunny day
and a heavy rain,
like a child
laughing and crying
one moment to the next,
or a friend,
who played third base
on our Sunday softball team,
now, a blink of the eye,
and he relies on a cane
to walk upright.


Bio:
Wayne Scheer has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and a Best of the Net. He's published numerous stories, poems and essays in print and online, including Revealing Momentshttps://issuu.com/pearnoir/docs/revealing_moments a collection of flash stories. His short story, “Zen and the Art of House Painting” has been made into a short film. https://vimeo.com/18491827

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Silk by Christine Tabaka

silk
floats on a breeze
of summer dresses


Ann Christine Tabaka, is better known by Chris. She was born in, and lives in Delaware. She has been writing poems and rhymes since her Junior High years. She always kept a journal of her writing, but only recently was encouraged by friends to publish. 

She was an Art Major in college, and retired a scientist. Now she is personal trainer, and more recently a published poet and writer.

Besides her memoir, two poetry books, and Haiku book, her poems are published in numerous national, and international Poetry Journals, Reviews, and Anthologies.




Cleveland Haiku #475 by Michael Ceraolo

Cleveland Haiku #475

Half-filled,
the salt bins sit
waiting for winter



Bio:  "This is the latest entry in an ongoing project about the place where he lives."

Monday, July 24, 2017

Invitation by Joan McNerney

Invitation

Would you like to unwind
an afternoon at the lake?

Solar sparks spilling over us
in showers of golden sizzle.

Put on short shorts, skimpy tops,
stick our toes into oozy mud.

Breezes will shake treetops
while we listen to birdsongs.

Why not float on new grass
facing an Alice blue sky?

Read celestial comic strips
from mounds of clouds.

We can count sunbeams,
chase yellow butterflies.

Devour bowls of cherries
painting our lips crimson.

This noontime is perfumed
with illions of wild flowers.

Let’s go away all day...be
embraced by the goddess.



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. 

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Love Said Hello by Lynn Long

Love Said Hello
Stars once aligned 
Moonbeams shone bright
Hearts felt a flutter
On a midsummer night
Thoughts were warm
Feelings were true
Love said hello
For love was new
Alas, now a memory
In the fallen leaves
For love flew away
On an Autumn breeze


Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist

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.

THE COUPLE IN THE AIRPORT TERMINAL By John Grey

They hate each other in airports.
The hum of jets is like an interloper
urging them to argue
He's always blowing his nose for one.
He says it's the air-conditioning.
And she weeps, even when there's
no one there to see her off.

And the metal detector surely zaps their brains.
Can't find their gate.
Are they even in the right terminal.
And other people waving out
the big glass windows.
Why is there no one to wave for them?
It's all his fault. Her fault.

It has to be the eternal time killing.
Making sure they're at the airport early
so the plane can be delayed.
An extra hour of nostril havoc,
of uncontrollable tears.

They've been wrenched out of routine,
of life even,
forgotten in this cavernous place
by everyone but themselves,
and the company is remorseless.

What is that pilot staring at?
No pretty airline lady, we do not need your pity.
And whose idea was it that we should travel?
A nose blower, a weeper...
where do they have to go?

They're too much together here, that's it.
Not home, where they have their favorite chair,
a newspaper, a football game, to intervene.
Their better selves know how to get things done
but only the worst of them can wait to do it.

A cold voice announces engine trouble.
But is it the airplane’s engine or the marriage’s?




Thursday, July 13, 2017

Friendship by Sanjeev Sethi

Friendship
 
Whenever I call her, she is on the cusp
of an interlude.When we are together
honesty is her other name.
 
The world riddled with rift must reign
in the sequences of her smile.
Grief is her gatekeeper.
 
When the phone rings, her callers
have promises to proffer.
Full of fire, she is destiny's flaw.
 
Some symphonies will never be hers.
Still my friend's lilt has the potential
to light the lame. Often she disowns this gift.
 
Her universe seems untidy,
but it is unsoiled. Her haphazardness
is on display while mine is disguised.
 
It is things that we disagree upon
are the things that draw me to her.
Fortitude is this friend's flag.



Sanjeev Sethi is the author of three well-received books of poetry. His most recent collection is This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015). His poems are in venues around the world: Mad Swirl, Olentangy Review, Indefinite Space, New Mystics, Yellow Mama, Serving House Journal, Right Hand Pointing, London Grip, With Painted Words, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Spillwords, Meniscus and elsewhere. He lives in Mumbai, India. 



Imagine by Joan McNerney

Photo by Joanne Olivieri



Imagine

Imagine to be a bird
slicing  air with wings.

Up up over that horizon
soaring through clouds
away from solemn earth.

Shining, shimmering 
far above this sphere
into  clear blue light.

Cutting through sky
gliding over oceans
eyes open all seeing.

Awake all day all night
brushing rushing
against the four winds.

Imagine to be a bird.


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. 

Beauty and Love by Lynn Long

Beauty and Love

In beauty there is love
In love there is true beauty
Embrace both within


Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.

Friday, July 7, 2017

some deserve my silence by Linda M. Crate

some deserve my silence 

daughter of the moon
and the sun
i shine intensely 
flames hotter than blue light
dancing on the paper mache of 
the celestial mouth
of night,
and a part of me
gleaming in each and every star;
i guess i am too much
for some to handle
because no one ever says goodbye
they just disappear
without farewell—
i used to mourn this until i realized
that even as intense as i am
i cannot help but be the person i am meant to be,
and i won't apologize for that anymore;
those who seek me will be a part of my tribe
or i will disappear like a moon deciding not to show up
in the night's sky
because i only deserve the people who love me
the others don't need my words—
i will feed them my silence
because it's a greater kindness than allowing them
the serrated edge of my flames
which would thrust them into oblivion's edge. 



BIO: Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has three published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), and If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016). Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015. The second novel of this series Dragons & Magic was published in October 2015. The third of the seven book series Centaurs & Magic was published November 2016. Her novel Corvids & Magic was published March 2017.