Stanzaic Stylings

Poetry Visions of wonder True sights to behold Are the vistas within The depths of your soul Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html

"Ella Black" I was the Pittsburgh correspondent for  Sporting Life during the one season of the Players League There were a good many then who didn't believe a woman could write knowledgeably about sports (I understand there are fewer of those now), and I wasn't helped by headline writers' creations that rarely coincided with my column's content (I understand that hasn't changed at all) But I proved the doubters wrong, and having done so, I vanished without any further trace in the historical record Nobody knows if Ella Black was even my real name If you're a fan of the game, you should know who I am, even if nobody knows who I was Michael Ceraolo is a 61-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had two full-length books (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press; 500 Cleveland Haiku, from Writing Knights Press) and several shorter-length books published, and has a third full-length b

E..G. Green This was my baseball nom de plume: E for Eliza, Green my maiden name (I survived three husbands, but they aren't germane to this poem so they won't be mentioned here; you can look them up if you're interested) For a decade I was the official scorer for the Chicago White Stockings of the League Except for Mr. Spalding, who hired me, no one, not even the League president, knew that E.G. Green was a woman; it was amusing to be sitting with the players' wives during games, undercover, so to speak And it was even more amusing to hear them, and later, their husbands, kick about an official scoring decision; sometimes they even asked my opinion about the correctness of such decisions! Michael Ceraolo is a 61-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had two full-length books (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press; 500 Cleveland Haiku, from Writing Knights Press) and several shorter-le

https://kelsaybooks.com/ products/poems-from-argentina https://www.amazon.com/Poems- Argentina-David-Francis/dp/ 1950462404 David’s poetry reveals the soul of a musician and the mind of a storyteller. His words embrace color, light, and depth within a spectrum of inspiration and understanding. David Francis and his poetry reflect the artistry of words within musical cadence capturing stories of life, love and sheer wonder. A true treasure of the heart, mind, and soul. Joanne Olivieri - Publisher,Writer, Editor of  Stanzaic Stylings,  San Francisco

Photo courtesy of Abby Kihano John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dunes Review, Poetry East and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Thin Air, Dalhousie Review and failbetter. DEATH VALLEY Sand abbreviates a ghost town’s story, shutters the mine, buries the roads leading in and out. A lesser history gives birth to saltbush, No trees. No shadows. The sun’s advance is unstoppable. Grainy wind blows from the west Dust devils dance on rocky floor. That’s it for movement.

The Dutiful Dozen from Dugout Anthology As I, Robert O. "Bob" Neighbors, am currently, and hope to remain, the last, I will take it upon myself to speak for the others: Harry M. O'Neill Elmer Gedeon Robert G. "Bun" Troy Ralph E. Sharman Newton S. "Newt" Halliday Edward L. "Eddie" Grant Harry M. Glenn LaVerne A. "Larry" Chappell Henry E. Chapman Alexander Thomson "Tom" Burr William E. "Bill" Stearns We all loved to play ball, and achieved our dream of playing in the majors: some of us for a few games or less who were never going to play any more, one or two of us with the potential to become stars, only Eddie with a career of any real length In a number of different ways, including training accidents and various illnesses in addition to those in combat, in the course of four wars, we each made the ultimate sacrifice I apologize if I've missed any o

Poetry of the Soul It's just a soul thing Yours and mine A fated romance Lost in time... Two hearts- in search of home Ever to wander Ever to roam Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html

Tropical Temporariness by Vatsala Radhakeesoon is a beautiful tapestry of words and images woven together creating an insight into the tropical life of her native Mauritius. The author illustrates her depth of pride for her homeland within each haiku along with a short detailed description for sacred  and historical treasures such as the now extinct dodo bird. Vatsala's love of nature and homeland speaks profoundly within the pages of this volume of haiku and  photography.  There is a sense of mystical realism which grips your soul and has you longing to experience this tropical paradise. A few of many favorites includes: PInk evening clouds wink Fluffy candy floss awaits delicious soft rest ----- Leaves shake wrath Clouds pour abundance of tears Thunderstorm kills lies ----- The extinct Dodo* Subject arising debate Souvenirs now smile *Dodo: The national bird of Mauritius. Dodoes lived on the island during the Dutch rule of Mauritiu

Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html Feel the moment It's all the rage To love one's self Fool or Sage Breathe in  Breathe out Awaken your soul Be in the now and just let  go... For there is no other time in which to be So feel the moment And, set yourself  free... xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx The present lost  is time missed For the moment  ceases to exist

Write My Name O Baghdad, write down my name on a list of young dead civilians being alive doesn't always mean everything is alright with me I talk with tears falling on my heart I listen with tears falling on my face I see with tears falling on my spirit my life has been worse than it seems my shadow loses me whenever I want to walk to the cemetery, only because I have missed my friends who are no longer around me; nor longer in this world O Montreal, forgive me for my weakness I am just tired of being strong for too long write my name on the waiting list of death So, I can sleep with my open wounds Sensitive The clouds are coming back With a seasonal race between the holy rain and my salty tears creating a bridge to chase me away only because I have been sensitive I am all alone under the drops of rain singing my misery to a broken tree since we are broken, waiting on death people say that I should more open friends are just actors in my jo

Michael Ceraolo is a 61-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had two full-length books (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press; 500 Cleveland Haiku, from Writing Knights Press) and several shorter-length books published, and has a third full-length book, Euclid Creek Book Two, forthcoming from unbound content press. Out of the Game This is a story of baseball: most here played,                            though not all played in the majors; others of us were involved in the game in different peripheral ways Some of us achieved fame Some achieved shame Some were between the two extremes Few of us are remembered nowadays Some of us stayed in the game in other ways after our playing days were over,                                                  and all of us are out of the game now, permanently,                     yet here we are able to have one more say

Bio ; Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad, Iraq. His work has appeared in print and online journals globally and has poems translated into several languages. He has been nominated for Best of the Net 2018. He is the author of The Bleeding Heart Poet, Love On The War’s Frontline, Gas Chamber, Wounds from Iraq, and Roofs of Dreams. He lives in Montreal, Canada. Cried on My Own I said a few silly jokes, people laughed at me I shared my pain, people judged me I tried to focus on my happiness, but I failed terribly I learned to write poetry and cried on my own

Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html Shadows Tis not only the night In which darkness reigns For shadows can loom On the brightest of days So beware of the light In which you seek For darkness follows In the shadow of dreams...

Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html To whom does this life belong she silently pondered- for it cannot be mine... can it? Realizing she was but a mere speck of intergalactic stardust; her woes no longer seemed quite so large Caught up in dreams and fantasy she couldn't see the wonder of her own reality... So she chose to make reality part of the dream... For he said the dream was true and together- we make it real

Turbulence Loves' passion engrosses me and my pain enhanced by nature's beauty and music Storm clouds consume the sky and my heart. I know no end...

In a Song Never Heard flowered hood ivory keys lilting down the middle of the ether magick hearts silver drum minds torn from each other in a song never heard wondering if the world will survive to fly is to fall eventually born of the flame as above so below James D. Casey IV is the author of seven full-length collections of poetry, founder and editor-in-chief of  Cajun Mutt Press , and extensively published online and in print by small press venues and literary magazines internationally. He is a southern poet with roots in Louisiana & Mississippi, currently residing in Illinois with his Beautiful Muse, their idiot dog, and two black magick cats.

Lynn Long Book Page @ Cyberwit Nature's Musings by Lynn Long on Lulu

Purchase Out of the Rain Out of the Rain is an inspiring anthology of poetry, stories, drawings and photography by the homeless in San Francisco. The works were compiled by the St. Vincent dePaul shelter in the city. I found this book in a used bookstore decades ago and it is the most inspiring and insightful book I have ever read.   The works included within these pages give you a glimpse of life on the streets in San Francisco through the hearts and minds of people living on our streets. These artists are no different than we are. They have regrets, fears, hopes, dreams and invaluable minds. The only difference is that we have a warm blanket and a roof over our heads at night when they are braving the cold and crime ridden streets sleeping in doorways. How many of us are that brave??? As a reader you will come to understand and carry the weight of their burdens on your shoulder and become grateful each day for that warm blanket and hot meal yo

Life's Journey on Amazon

Lynn Long Book Page @ Cyberwit Nature's Musings by Lynn Long on Lulu Our bodies entwine His lips on mine As we travel the nether - lost corridors of time  I cry out your name - to the god that you are  At one in your being  We align with the stars 

American Labor:  An Episodic Epic,  Fannie Sellins Like many, she had to work to support her family after being left a young widow with four children She worked as a seamstress and helped to organize Local 67 of the United Garment Workers of America While appealing, successfully, to miners for help with the garment workers' strike fund, miners' union officials decided to hire her as an organizer "I am free and I have a right to walk or talk any place in this country as long as I obey the law", but government-by-injunction made up its own laws, and she was jailed in Colliers, West Virginia for six months for violating one of those 'laws' But that didn't stop her organizing, or her supporting striking workers And so              "Fanny Sellens [sic]"                                             "came to her death" "on Tuesday, Aug. 26th, 1919 at 4 P.M. due to gun shot wound in left temple from gun in the hands of person or persons unk

THE MANY LOVES OF DUANE VORHEES is the psychic poetic skeleton of a prose novel about the phases of love (love sought, love gained, love lost, love shared, love spurned), without any of the manifest trappings of setting, plot, characters, etc., all of which any reader can easily supply autobiographically. When the particulars are removed, the universal remains. It has eight sections, each representing a stage of development.  Available on Amazon

John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dunes Review, Poetry East and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Haight-Ashbury Literary Journal, Thin Air, Dalhousie Review and failbetter. THE FELLING A forest of ringing axes thunders like fleeing wildlife, as trunks crack and fall, sap drips to the ground like blood without body. A field of skulls is aimlessly rooted to sun-scarred soil, as men move on, triumphant blades held high. Years later I encounter the devastation in a diary, tears as words, dry but unrelenting. No need to return, cuss out the damage some big box store has wreaked. It’s the page, fixed lines, that govern a memory.

THE MEANING OF THEIR WINGS they crawl from beneath the shadows of tattered leaves chewed in a former life before cocoon darkness and rebirth  they stumble in strange new bodies and flap unfamiliar wings flip themselves onto their backs and struggle upright again  too weak to fly, yet they go forth along the pavement  in the morning sun inches from tires rolling by each failure brings them closer to death or the day they will discover the meaning of these wings that weigh them down

Lynn Long Book Page at Cyberwit https://www.cyberwit.net/publications/1288 Lynn Long Nature's Musings http://www.lulu.com/shop/lynn-long/natures-musings/paperback/product-24062476.html In dreamy bliss A moonlit kiss Amid silver drops And rainbow lollipops Love always remembers Its memory pure Love never surrenders For love.. is sure All the thoughts All the words All the poems They are you Kiss of youth Across the sea You've gone away Come find me A tangled web I have spun No way out Excuse the pun Hands in hair Breath on face Love was there But love- escaped Never to know Never to touch So it goes To love much Under the tree He gave me My first kiss My last wish

Time Waits None Won’t there be heart, pure And won’t there be truth prevailing If we with Time’s circus endure  For tomorrow; for time is fleeting. Won’t the stars shine magic upon us And won’t the moon glitter, If we within time given make a fuss Out of things; for we lead with life, acrid and bitter. If we with heart dare to move And with strength dare to care, And to Infinity go, to Eternity prove, And to the world  a part of us share, We ought to shun the bad And to lives a meaning add. 

Of nothing that belongs to you and me Let us only write words Of rains Of skies Of rivers And of birds that fly Of nothing that belongs to you and me Let us only write words That will fix The broken trees