Stanzaic Stylings

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 th

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

A Day At The Wharf  San Francisco Michael Gonzalez Facebook Page

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.    

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

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

      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

Linda Imbler Poetry Blog Bonham, Texas Springs’s leaves fall limp and wet and hug the gentle bough from showers that quench the land. Flowers of pansy and hyacinth blossom beside the long porch, and upon the meadow’s splendor, we stand awed against waves of bluebonnets. Within the shimmer of summer, the farm is an active place. During a long walk uphill,  we wend paths active with animal life and birds and quickly flowing streams, or stroll across green pastures in need of mowing as grasses tickle our ankles. We avoid ‘The Bottoms,’ where the tusked wild boar live, because no entreaty will appease them. If by chance they should pass by, we wear our armor on our hips. In the drier days, while leaves sleep and dream of their reincarnation as new buds, Autumn deeply inhales summer’s breath and exhales that breath as its own.  In winter, the night is so dark that even prayers are invisible. There is no light, except from the fire pits and a small front porch bulb. In the dusk of day, the w

Freedom and Cobwebs Freedom is where The blackholes Have lights In the empty spaces Streets are poised To take fights Freedom is that corner  Of the mind which has cobwebs In spite of being in plain sight  And they don't clean it up Or rinse it With all their might

From  her Book Roulette For more information including bio and discography, visit her website  Paula Hackett Website

Linda Imbler Poetry Blog Caul on sky; the changeling enters our world and dims what once shone. Summer switched to Autumn. The once bright days seem darker and the wind becomes heavy blown. This replacement steeps all in shadow. Fall, as summer’s stand-in, brings dusky air.

Raissa Wear your dreams To and fro My dear Nurse your youth Keep lightning In your veins Even with a thousand Pains in your heart My little black rose With no sweeter kiss More honeyed than yours Your love I will remember Far after we become Bumps in the night Still Hand in hand Within the ether James D. Casey IV has authored four books of poetry. All are available on Amazon under the titles  Metaphorically Esoteric, Dark Days Inside the Light While Drunk on Wine, Tin Foil Hats & Hadacol Coins,  and  Owls in Hot Rods with Pink Elephants and Dead Bats.  His work is also published in print and online by small press venues and literary magazines a round the globe including  Triadæ Magazine, Constellate Literary Journal, Stanzaic Stylings, Indiana Voice Journal, Beatnik Cowboy, Dope Fiend Daily, Rye Whiskey Review, Under The Bleachers, Dissident Voice, Scarlet Leaf Review, Zombie Logic Review, Whispers, Duane's PoeTree, Tuck Magazine, Poetry Breakfast, Outlaw Poetry,  Poetry Life &

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’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

"I owe my soul to the Company Store" Good old-fashioned American ingenuity was able to re-create feudalism in the guise of the company town, best exemplified in the coal communities: the worker (peasant) harvested the crop (coal) not seasonally but year-round, under conditions set by the owner (lord) that often endangered the worker's life, entirely for the benefit of the lord, for which the peasant was paid a pittance, often in scrip redeemable only at the company store, which used its monopoly to inflate prices in order to extract even more wealth from the worker-peasants And if the peasant sought to unionize to ameliorate at least some of the above, the most-degraded warrior-class imaginable, the private army of the lord, used whatever means were necessary  to prevent that from happening 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

Ken Allan Dronsfield EMAIL:  kadfield@gmail.com TWITTER:  https://twitter.com KenKadfield   WEBSITE:  https:// arevenantpoet.wordpress.com/ FACEBOOK:  https://www. facebook.com/kend1 Biography:    Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran, prize winning poet and fabulist from New Hampshire, now residing on the plains of Oklahoma. He is widely published in magazines, journals, reviews and anthologies throughout the US and abroad. He has three poetry collections, "The Cellaring", 80 poems of light horror, paranormal, weird and wonderful work. His second book, "A Taint of Pity", contains 52 Life Poems Written with a Cracked Inflection. Ken's third poetry collection, "Zephyr's Whisper", 64 Poems and Parables of a Seasonal Pretense, and includes his poem, "With Charcoal Black, Version III", selected as the First Prize Winner in Realistic Poetry International's recent Nature Poem Contest. Ken won First Prize for his Haiku on Southern Colle

THE HOME This is the sky that falls over us the small injuries of daylight slip away, our breath settling into karma and pause.   Inside the kitchen, the fresh smells of pandesal, steaming black tea with a taste of cinnamon, a platter of kamote, prawns, and sea cucumber.   Everywhere the shouts of hello, mabuting kaibigan, mabuhay and soft gabi, magandang gabi, soft night, good evening, welcome home.   In the morning the air almost turquoise, cloud cover a myriad of streams entering a river, sunlight in the distance, sunlight behind walls.   Day begins with irritations and inflections, a quietude and a symphony of cymbals, a cacophony of doors, voices, the clatter of plates.   Longganisa, milkfish belly, and hot tsokolate thin enough to inhale, and then the sun yellows, a car arrives, another day with people we never knew

Only a Dream You, my sweet reverie were, but a fleeting dream To pass the time, To ease my sorrow, To free my mind In the  beginning I imagined your face, your voice,  your knowing touch Always, I smiled at the thought  of you Soon, my soul  renewed in  love No longer wished on stars above For dream and  reality  seemed  never  to part As feelings of joy  embraced the  heart Alas, your truth came  to be A beautiful awakening I must see  And, yet, still, I sleep  knowing true I cannot escape- the wonder of you So, in reverie  I will  abide, until  the  day you're by my  side Lynn  Long-  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 Whispersh