Sunday, November 18, 2018

Suavecito by Joanne Olivieri

Sauvecito

Sparkling chimes
magical mandolins
humming in time
strummung in rhythm

Timbales click
congas pound
voices rise softly
as the mood calms

Our hearts meld
in peaceful harmony.

Sunday, November 4, 2018

The Depository Of Religion by Michael Brownstein

THE DEPOSITORY OF RELIGION
 
We woke early afternoon to a Witch's Day,
the blue lit sky framed in a curvature of cloud.
On the counter, cool drinking water from the creek of red horse-mint
and the scent of greens mixed with onions and discolored peppers.
Don't tell me you do not know this feeling of things gone well,
self-satisfied, colored purple-red.
Near the deadfall, we built what was ours to build,
opened it to a sea of stars in the evening before an erosion of light,
settled in beneath thick quilted blankets and soft sheets,
listened to the way charms and blessings spread into eveningsong,
the way bearwalkers move in the dark four days after the burial.
We have two more days to lie here waiting. Make yourself at home:
you can not say this was not the way of our life,
the creek and the cemetery our autobiographies,
the faint shadow of rainbow, the glitter of warmth in a touch,
the leather pouch with its victim set safe behind vinyl.

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Five Thousand Days by Colleen Keller Breuning

Five Thousand Days

 

Dawn blooms in red sky

morning chill pervades my soul

frost on the window

 

Steely clouds loom low

fragile lives hang by a thread

unraveling fast

 

One final embrace

the warm expanse of your arms

grow cold as March snow

 

Your spirit soars free

betraying my bargains with

sullen moon and stars

 

Waves of emotion

strong riptide pulls me under

crashing on the rocks

 

Empty solitude

as five thousand days slip by

last light fades to black

 

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2017

For Bio and more information about Colleen and her works visit her page on this site at: Colleen Keller Breuning Poet and Photographer

Fertile Ground by Michael Ceraolo

Fertile Ground

The seeds of this poem were sown long ago,
though it took years for me to realize it
When I was old enough to walk to school by myself,
either in second or third grade
(there were two or three streets to cross
without benefit of crossing guards),
there was the prescribed way to go,
and I usually went that way
But not always
                         Sometimes I would walk
one,
         two,
                 or even three
streets out of the way to make it a different way,
arriving at school late on those days
I would look to see if anything was different
on any of those other streets
I didn't notice a whole lot different:
the sidewalks were a similar mix
of concrete blocks and slabs of the local bluestone;
the houses were mostly the same
and the roads were similarly paved,
though on two of the streets it seemed
that there were a few more taller trees

These occasional excursions
led to further explorations,
this time on non-school days
There was another street
where the newer section of the paved road ended:
there were houses only on the east side;
there were woods on the west side
where the sidewalk ended,
                                        and
I would explore the woods all the way
back to where they butted up against
the fenced-in gold course
                                        And
even back then I was glad I had,
                                                 for
in a few years the road was extended again,
the woods torn down,
                                and new homes built

I am still exploring the area,
and noting the changes

Saturday, October 27, 2018

Saturday, Outdoor Shopping Mall by Alyssa Trivett

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music while chirping down coffee and scrawling lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared in many places (including the trash bin), but also at In Between Hangovers, Duane's PoeTree site, and recently at The Rye Whiskey Review and Under the Bleachers.

Saturday, Outdoor Shopping Mall


There was a 

Fall tide in the afternoon,

the hours melted away,

with busybodies

and shopping bags floating and coffee cups bobbing.

I wandered with a best friend 

across scarred cement 

amongst stores of every type of clothing and every type of everything.

My pocket change rattled,

was almost

high school football 

team tackled

by a small crowd.

Threw comic bubbles.

I'll never forget it.

Even if I made eight 

figure-eights and

followed every 

diagonal arrow

of where the bathroom swore it should have been.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Colors Change by Linda Imbler

Linda Imbler’s poetry collections include “Big Questions, Little Sleep,”  “Lost and Found,” and “The Sea’s Secret Song.”  
Her newest e-book “Pairings” is due out soon from Soma Publishing.  She is a Kansas-based Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Nominee.  
Linda’s poetry and a listing of publications can be found atlindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com. 


Colors Change

The unseeable sun in Autumn,
Summer births the Fall.
Do the grass and trees see the difference?
Green, yellow, red,
They should.

Thursday, October 18, 2018

Moon Secrets by Colleen Keller Breuning

Moon Secrets

 

The planets rotate and revolve

black holes collapse into dust

stars may come and stars may go

but Luna always returns.

 

From fields of velvet indigo

her alabaster face beckons

she soothes me with moonsong

and I spill my secrets.

 

As the words flow forth

the soul becomes dyed

with the color of its thoughts

and my heart bleeds emotion.

 

Exposed, expunged, extorted

beneath the shuttered moonlight

she breaks her heavy shroud of silence

and laughs at me.

 

The winds rise up at her command

as she flashes her twisted smile

sinking beneath cold mountains

to gossip with the sun.

 

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2018

April 19, 2018


For Bio and more information about Colleen and her works visit her page on this site at: Colleen Keller Breuning Poet and Photographer

Monday, October 15, 2018

Poetry of the Heart by Lynn Long


Poetry of the Heart

Vast as the ocean
depths unknown,
is the heart that
loves- beyond 
its own

A treasure to impart
Humble and true
The gift of my heart
In bravery to you

It is the hopeful heart
of the dreamer, still 
waiting for love's true
kiss- who will shine 
a light into the 
darkest abyss 

https://zolanymph1.blogspot.com/

Poet, writer, aspiring novelist, daydreamer and believer in the impossible

Contributing artist @hitRECord.org and Scriggler.com

Published in the following Ezines, Publications and Online Journals:

Antarctica Journal

Duane's PoeTree

In Between Hangovers

Stanzaic Stylings

Poetry Poetics Pleasure

Whispers

Sunday, October 14, 2018

Fall Equinox by Joan McNerney

Fall Equinox

 

Morning light reveals

silhouettes of branches

against a dove grey sky.

 

Hurry, pick gardens of bright

vegetables. Time to cook

big pots of soup, yeasty breads.

 

Wearing red, orange,

yellow leaves, trees

sashaying in the wind.

 

Countless shades of leaves,

shapes of leaves,

sounds of leaves.

 

Children come from school

jumping in piles of foliage

shouting with delight.

 

Flying carpets of sugar maple

leaves unfurl along our road

as frost draws closer.

 

Amazing how many stars

fit inside my windowpane

alongside a harvest moon.

Joan McNerney Resident Poet

Saturday, October 13, 2018

Anansi by Linda Imbler


Linda Imbler is an internationally published poet.  Her poetry collections include “Big Questions, Little Sleep,”  “Lost and Found,” and “The Sea’s Secret Song.”  
Her newest e-book “Pairings” is due out soon.  She is a Kansas-based Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Nominee.  Linda’s poetry and a listing of publications 


Anansi

Anansi smote Pegasus.
His reason was clear.
There can be no heroes.
His motto, crystal clear,
if all cannot fly, then none will fly.
His logic
toxic.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Mystery by Paul Pekin

Mystery

That footprint in the garden
Someone claims she saw a prowler
But when I walked out,
bare footed on the dew
I heard a morning dove

-- 
http://patstoll.org/story/

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

surface thoughts by Wayne Scheer

surface thoughts

id caress your soul if I could,
massage your brain,
kiss your heart 

but i have to settle for surfaces
and your breasts, thighs,
belly and ass

do just fine.


Bio:Wayne Scheer has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and two Best of the Nets. He's published numerous stories, poems and essays in print and online, including Revealing Moments,https://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


 

Thursday, October 4, 2018

Wings by Colleen Keller Breuning r

Wings

 

Glider of the sky, dragonfly

Perched on lily pad, clouds float by

Water ripples in gentle rings

You are the wind beneath my wings.

 

Morning rises with yellow rays

Sweet promises of sunny days

Flutter as the mockingbird sings
You are the wind beneath my wings

 

Reflecting colors, stained glass art

Shot of moonshine straight to the heart

Steeped in beauty that summer brings

You are the wind beneath my wings

 

Glider of the sky, dragon fly

You are the wind beneath my wings.

 

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2018

August 17, 2018

For Bio and more information about Colleen and her works visit her page on this site at: Colleen Keller Breuning Poet and Photographer

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

Boston Corbett by Michael Ceraolo


From: American Labor:  An Episodic Epic

 Boston Corbett

Some of you may have heard of me:
I am a footnote in American history,
the soldier who killed John Wilkes Booth
(There were those then,
                                    and those now,
who maintain that Booth wasn't killed in the shootout,
yet I was the one called crazy 
and institutionalized)
 
                                   Some of you,
those who have read Scott Martelle's book,
may also remember I was a preacher,
and also know of some of my quirks

Some of you may be wondering
what I am doing in a poem about labor,
considering me not even a footnote there
I couldn't disagree more:
                                       to me,
anyone who ever belonged to a union
is more than a footnote in labor history
I was a proud member of the
Hat Finishers' National Trade Association,
working as a silk-hat finisher
during and between preaching gigs
                                                     And that,
unknown to us hatters at the time,
was most likely what led to my brain problems:
the mercury used on the job
And in this I was not alone

Bio:  "Michael Ceraolo is a retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had one full-length book (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press) and a few chapbooks published (among the chapbooks is Cleveland Haiku, from Green Panda Press). He has a second full-length book, Euclid Creek Book Two, forthcoming from unbound content press, and is continually working on new and existing poetry projects.

Carnival by Linda Imbler

Linda Imbler Poetry Blog


Carnival


The carousel went on and on
and we knew we would also,
but then it moved on
and so did we.

Monday, October 1, 2018

Acquiescence by Jeffrey E. Tracey

The giving in. The letting go.

The cascade into a pool of dark ink.

The shadow in the well.

Sightless. Stillness. Noiseless.

The "I am" in its deepest sleep.

The shrugging off illumination.

Minus the tresspasding of time.

            Such is nirvana

And all the while, deep within.

Restoration is burning the midnight oil.

May you be free from birth.

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Magenta Skies by Colleen Keller Breuning

Magenta Skies

 

Cold slips in, raining on Sunday,

and I wish the sun would shine.

Somber clouds are shattering,

tears cascading into my wine.

 

As the wind whips through the maples,

I hear distant voices calling.

But this attic is dark and empty,

and the raindrops just keep falling.

 

And I’m dreaming of magenta skies,

the sunset unfolding before my eyes,

shimmering sea reflecting moonlight,

holding you close all through the night.

 

Growing older as the days go by,

heavy feet tread on sodden ground.

Watch the geese fly in parallel lines,

tracing their path without a sound.

 

As wanderlust stirs in my bones,

these chains will never make me stay.

Seeds of hope sprout in a heart like mine…

someday, somehow I’ll find my way.

 

Will you stay, will you stay…

stay in the shadows of yesterday?

Will you follow, will you follow…

follow me into tomorrow?

 

And I’m dreaming of magenta skies,

the sunset unfolding before my eyes,

shimmering sea reflecting moonlight,

holding you close all through the night.

 

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2018

September 26, 2018

For Bio and more information about Colleen and her works visit her page on this site at: Colleen Keller Breuning Poet and Photographer

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Dark Linings by Joanne Olivieri


My new full length book is now available on Dark Linings by Joanne Olivieri on Amazon


Available now from Cajun Mutt Press, Dark Linings by Joanne Olivieri, pick up your copy on Amazon today! 

A dark, erotic and at times gritty collection of poetry, Joanne writes about the light and dark sides of her past in a tantalizing volume of poetry. Exploring her imagination in a living tale of life, love, and loss is the backdrop for Dark Linings.

#newbook #bookbuzz #Amazon

#poetry #dark #erotica

#CajunMuttPress

#publishin

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Photography by Michael Gonzalez

A Day At The Wharf 

San Francisco

Michael Gonzalez Facebook Page



The Currents Will Shift by Scott Thomas Outlar


The Currents Will Shift


 

Under a brilliant sun every day

yet still half blind

 

The soul remains eager

but the flesh is far weaker

than any point

that proverbs or psalms

could try to get across

 

Even what’s written in stone

will soon enough crumble to dust

 

I’ve never heard a truth in my life

that wasn’t born from the ashes of a lie

 

Oh, joy! Oh, woes!

Oh, please

just hold

so so

steady

at the helm

of your ship

for

one

more

breath


Bio:
Scott Thomas Outlar hosts the site 17Numa.com where links to his published poetry, fiction, essays, interviews, reviews, live events, and books can be found. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Scott was a recipient of the 2017 Setu Magazine Award for Excellence in the field of literature. His words have been translated into French, Italian, Dutch, Persian, Serbian, Albanian, and Afrikaans. His show Songs of Selah airs weekly on Diversity of the Minds Radio Network.  

James Matles by Michael Ceraolo


From American Labor:  An Episodic Epic

James Matles

Some of you may know of Joseph Welch,
the Army attorney who,
in the idiom of the early twenty-first century,
took down McCarthy in a public hearing
You may not know,
because it was in executive session
even though I asked it to be public,
that I had also done so
in November of the previous year

There was a union-representation election
coming up in a few weeks,
                                        and
the drunken bully and his pet boy Cohn
were doing their best to influence the outcome

"When you accuse me of spying,
and when you accuse decent working people
in Lynn and Schenectady
of spying and sabotage,
you are lying, Senator McCarthy"
"You are doing a dirty thing for GE . . .,
browbeating decent working people"

Though he knew I was onto him,
he kept yammering away,
so I answered back:

"Any citizen is decent unless
he is charged, tried and found guilty of a crime,
and that applies to Communists
as well as to Republicans"

He asked me if I was a spy,
and I asked him if he was one,
and got no response

More whispering between him and his pet boy,
then I asked Cohn a question;
without any awareness of irony,
McCarthy told him he could,
in effect, take the Fifth,
and the 'hearing' ended,
                                   though, sadly,
his campaign was effective enough
to cause us to lose a close election

Bio:  "Michael Ceraolo is a retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had one full-length book (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press) and a few chapbooks published (among the chapbooks is Cleveland Haiku, from Green Panda Press). He has a second full-length book, Euclid Creek Book Two, forthcoming from unbound content press, and is continually working on new and existing poetry projects.



Saturday, September 22, 2018

A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else by Michael H. Brownstein

A master poet explores the linguistic world of Alzheimer's. With patience and love, Michael demonstrates logical thought patterns which develop meaning when a listener gives the speaker space and time. Once you've taken this journey with Michael, you'll discover the diagnosis of dementia much less overwhelming for caregivers and family.

Purchase on Amazon.com

Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Haiku Series by Lynn Long

 

    Wild Flower

There among the weeds

Your beauty stands all alone

The promise of life

    Thoughts of You
Gray and purple hues
Color the landscape anew
Lost in thoughts of you
       
         Rain
The soft tap of rain
Falling upon the window
Soothes my weary soul

      Still... I Wait
The days are so long
The nights go by too quickly
Still... I wait for you

        Hope
Against the current
Into your heart I will swim
With caution and hope

https://zolanymph1.blogspot.com/

Poet, writer, aspiring novelist, daydreamer and believer in the impossible

Contributing artist @hitRECord.org and Scriggler.com

Published in the following Ezines, Publications and Online Journals:

Antarctica Journal

Duane's PoeTree

In Between Hangovers

Stanzaic Stylings

Poetry Poetics Pleasure

Whispers