Stanzaic Stylings

Something Sacred in Our Sadness If I write one more time about the sky and how it’s set to fall at any moment, how many chances will I have left when the rain finally does begin to pour? If I dance, alone, on a bridge in the middle of the woods, is that the same as on a stage somewhere, someday, somehow? All you ever needed was to bless us; all I want to do is laugh and smile; yet when we weep, please let it be in joy even though we know this sadness heals with love. They said this carpet knew how to fly when guided proper, but forgot to mention that the engine could sometimes stall; and what we’ve learned, passed down throughout the ages, is that the magic comes from our minds when we truly decide to soar. Bio: Scott Thomas Outlar hosts the site  17Numa.wordpress.com  where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, and books can be found. His

Upon a Breeze She carries her umbrella, but only for a bright Sun; Loving the falling rain as it gently kisses her face. Dancing to a heart song; a sweet embracing hug. My bit of heaven inhaled, she courts a lovely style. Tune my soul with sonnets, rhymes of sweet melodies. A gentle and angelic touch, with me now, upon a breeze. (First published in "Where Are You From?" 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.

shooting star shooting star – children play tag with fireflies Bio:  Theresa A. Cancro writes poetry, short fiction and nonfiction. Dozens of her poems, fiction and nonfiction pieces have been published internationally online and in print. She strives to find sparks of wonder within the ordinary.

The Fractal Man by Lee A. Forman   The first eyes upon him captured his features in neural ink, committed image to the pages of consciousness, internal history.   No matter how you looked at him, his features always the same. Magnificent, eternally possessing, his nature was to blame.   I first shook his hand, the most arresting moment of life. I was captured, taken, but by my will alone.   Never a struggle, I only followed where he walked. Choice nonexistent. But inconsequential in its fault.   To the end of all, if he marched, I’d carry my soul in this unsightly husk, until it fell in passing, until it turned to dust.   That which preceded his arrival, banished, no longer declared. Only the future mattered. Only for what he prepared.   He led us to the mountains, where history would rebirth. Those left behind, children of accursed Earth.   Behind him came the end. But not of humanity. He only wished

Diamond in the Rough High in the mountains, on the brink Traversing the slippery slope Headfirst, into the deep abyss Searching for those lost rays of hope. River of rain, river of pain I’m praying for the hurt to fade Ready for truth, ready for change Ready to quit this masquerade. I’m just a diamond in the rough A black and shiny piece of coal Lying here among the fault lines Waiting, waiting to be made whole. Strip off the mask, show your colors Black or white, all I ever knew. The world seemed to burn crimson red, But you have shown me shades of blue. Wash me in your crystal waters Where tides of serenity flow. Shine the white light upon my skin And watch me sparkle, watch me glow. I’m just a diamond in the rough, A black and shiny piece of coal Lying here among the fault lines Waiting, waiting to be made whole. Colleen Keller Breuning © 2017 BIOGRAPHY: Colleen Keller Breuning is a poet and photographer who

In Love  As soon as I turn on the radio guess what I hear A singer who thinks falling in love should be feared Why do musicians always write like love is bad And the only result of loving is feeling sad I guess they never came across someone like you A person they would never be willing to lose I was sitting in a room filled with strangers But I knew all the guys were troublemakers I forced laughter, faked smiles for the crowd In actuality scared you would never come around But everything changed when I saw your face Now I’m not sure why I had doubts in the first place You have me searching for four leaf clovers Trying not to lose my composure Wishing on shooting stars in the night sky Hoping to catch a glimpse of when you walk by You change my mood like they’re the seasons If I’m feeling like winter you’re my summer beacon Before I met you I couldn’t find any inspiration All attempts for a love poem would end in frustration I know I a

wind in trees leaves dance to a grand ballet   august ocean warm current caresses like liquid silk 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, cooking, and the ocean.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.  Her poems have been published in numerous national and international poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies. Chris has been selected as the resident Haiku poet for  Stanzaic Stylings.

Haiku Cats – take your pick of the litter Voyeur Inquisitive... the gingersnap cat stares as I get undressed. ------------------------ Maestro What does this cat think strumming his tail with such ease to fugues of Bach? ------------------- Shut Eye Black and white kitten lying under clothesline in soft circles of sleep. ------------------- Street Walker Calico cat curving corners against the cold. -------------------- Free Throw A tiger cat with big green eyes tosses balls of yarn. 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. 

   September 16, 1881 Garfield: "Quiet is no certain pledge of permanence and safety Trees may flourish and flowers may bloom upon the quiet mountain side,                                             while silently the trickling rain-drops are filling the deep cavern behind its rocky barriers, which,           by and by,                           in a single moment, shall hurl to wild ruin its treacherous peace" I will become the embodiment of this Guiteau: Quiet is no friend of mine I need the noisy clamor of demand to sell my autograph for twenty-five cents, my autographed picture for a dollar "This is another from his work  Eighty Days , dramatic monologues by Garfield and Guiteau for each of the days covering the period from the day Guiteau shot Garfield until the day Garfield died." Bio:   "Michael Ceraolo is a 59-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet and baseball fan.

Beyond the Clouds Pinpoint lights dot black velvet fields above, Eyes travel north and wish upon a star. The intellect seeks while the heart finds love Beyond mountains of despair, near and far. Long shadows of night tumble into day, An unrelenting quest for inner peace. Though darkness fades to muted shades of grey, I look beyond the clouds for my release. Hot summer rain beats down upon my face, Melting anxieties away like ice. Your words resonate, filling me with grace; Their seeds of hope as plump as grains of rice. Your image has faded, my tears have dried… Forever I shall carry you inside. Colleen Keller Breuning © 2017

Soul Kissed I didn't know my soul was starving Until I got a taste of you Didn't know how much I was missing Until you did the things you do I thought I had felt true love Before I felt your tender touch You came into my life You have taught me so very much You showed me a different man One I knew nothing about One who can speak his feelings Doesn't always have to shout A man who can tell me he loves me And I know that is enough One who will stand beside me Even when things get a little tough You've shown me so much different Than I have ever known Just these few months with you It's amazing how much I have grown When it comes to decent men You are truly one of a kind I have been blessed in this lifetime To be able to have claimed you as mine ©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

Splendor Of September I miss the smells of hibernating leaves white picket fence slowly disintegrates Popsicle stand is shuttered and closed yellow flip flops left in the sand dunes. family times in autumn dreams Many lonely gulls wander cool beaches snowy egrets stand stoic by tidal pools fresh apple displays at roadside stands corn fields now barren, silo's are filled. lanterns alight in autumn dreams Cascade memories like watersheds cleansing the long neglected spirit as time drifts on like a sweet sunset smells of hot coffee complete a day. September shines in autumn dreams. Chilled night air begs for hot cocoa baked apple pie with vanilla ice cream Christmas shopping  on Saturday  night, the sweet splendor of my September. Biography: Ken Allan Dronsfield is a poet originally from New Hampshire, now living in Oklahoma. He was nominated for The Best of the Net and 2 Pushcart Awards in Poetry in 2016. His poetry has been published world-wide t

Inamorata  I want to be the rain cascading down all over your body cleansing you refreshing you loving your beauty  your scars caressing your very soul kissing your thirsty lips  like the morning dew does to the rose I want to be the sun peeking through your window  waking you up  with a tender touch  warming every pore of your soft skin I want to be the moon to see you every night  Illuminating your path your darkest nights  to whom you tell your secrets  your sorrows  and deeper desires I want to be  the reason of your smile your first morning thought  the best of your poems  a never ending story  an everlasting love. (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 little more  I can live like a non ending dream Overflowing words red yellow green Rolling down on my eyes lips and chin I am amazed to see The auburn evening artistry A picture of a well stretched sunflower field A man walking to cross end till Imagery appeared in my mind I can live magical words like For a little more For a while. ©Lipika Ghosh Brief Biography : Contemporary poet and short story writer in regional language Bengali . Active period from 1995 to present. Written five books, collections of Bengali poems. Supporting humanity,  supporting to save greenery.

Inventory He lies, glass over him, his twinkle hidden under lids prodding open my easier-to-open vaults with his frail frame prompt and now I see him throwing rolled-up rice into the air his mouth opening at the right moment to catch the ball (I hoped one would fall) closing the windows on my teen-ambushed nights Me, opening them silently after  midnight  just a little and the cat and the moon pawing their way in and out. His body-shaped space on the cot bordered by books he never read Hitler, Thakazhi, Nehru and Galbraith, only rare editions I would take one and nudge the others closer to not distort his aura. Now he has only the coldness and no say at all about its confines. An overgrown yard, thin, yellow-armed cuscuta dangling from nameless trees, night jasmine strewn on grass,  a busy breeze, the kitchen with a single tea pot, a spoon, a cup, a hot plate, a wooden chair  and his brisk footfalls- meager  but adding up to only him. This hurried, human i

She Is The Girl She is the girl with a wild imagination Hears the countryside calling her name Who is impulsive, who couldn’t care less About what the others thought of her She is the girl who hates the city life Done with the photoshopped world The one who will leave it all behind one day For her green and brown haven She is the girl who cannot fathom That if humans are born naturally good Why we let this terrible world reign our lives The one who wishes for mother nature to rule Yet she is the girl who is praised for her brain She knows a lot, but what good is that If her knowledge won’t get her that far In a place where she will never be good enough She is the girl with many friends But friendship is not what she wants For all she wants is to run away And scream her troubles to the stars She is the girl who is often misunderstood The one who no one really knows Who no one can compare normalcy to She is me BIO : My name is