Stanzaic Stylings

Free Speech Canto XLII They billed themselves as The Worldwide Leader in Sports, and that meant a lot of hours when they had no live events to show had to be filled somehow,                                       mostly with reruns of some of those events or reruns of their highlights shows But they also had talk programs, where those who had made it to the summit of mediocrity gave their opinions on happenings both on and off the field (mostly on) So far, so so-so But when some of those hired to give their opinions,                                 opinions by no means secret to the hirers, gave certain opinions they were either suspended or fired for doing what they were hired for A new slogan for the Mousey company: The Worldwide Leader in Censorship...

 Blue Moon Your light leads the way To adventure and freedom Come shine upon me Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.

Pacific Daydream Lofty Willows growing     at the edge of the pond         water buffalo graze             among the fields of rice. Cat birds cry in a breeze     by grand banyan trees         winds sway the grasses             like long ocean waves. Pheasant quickly dash     to thickets for safer cover         alone in the fields,             I sit and watch the sky. Grasses are now warm     after a day spent in sunshine         puffy clouds racing by             heading off towards the sea. Colorful butterflies dancing     and dragonflies romancing         banana now ready             pineapple is looking fine. Mango and papaya,     my favorite tropical treat ...

Once upon a time, there was this little girl, who lived in the woods. She was raised only by her grandmother. Her parents, she never knew. Her grandmother once sadly slipped and said that her mother was the most precious fairy of them all, but alas, she died in childbirth. The father had no mention, and it was only after her grandmother’s passing did this little girl realize that her grandmother had been hiding her from the world, a world that she was now lost in, a world that never knew her name. Alone, she wandered, living off scraps and on the kindness of strangers. Nobody really talked to her. Nobody asked her about her name. They took care of her for one night and then demanded for her to be gone the very next day. At first, she was okay with this arrangement, traveling to strange lands and enjoying breathtaking sights, but one day when crossing the river, she spied a young man in a boat nearby, kissing a young girl. Why was he kissing her, the little girl asked, and the olde...

A Faint Trace of Light It wasn’t our first date. We actually had been dating for a few months now, but the dates were more of friendship than what he wanted. I knew that eventually his patience would run out, and tonight, it did. And his car ran out of gas, leaving us in a tight space, waiting on a tow truck, and it was here, where he made his move, not taking No for an answer. So, I left, now stranded in the cold woods that surrounded me. I could hear him yelling for me to get back into the car, but I ignored him. Maybe, if he wasn’t so rough, I would change my mind. Maybe, if he wasn’t pushing me into the backseat, I would say that I was wrong. I knew that eventually we would do it, but not in a car, not like this. This was all wrong, and suddenly, his car sprung to life. And he floored it down the road, disappearing from sight. I’m sure his car would die again, and I hoped that he too would be left stranded in the woods. But still, where did that leave me? It was gett...

Image: Charly Kayle Facebook Page Image: Ocean Beach Land's End San Francisco by Joanne Olivieri Ocean Beach Absorbing the negative ions from  the rain at the ocean.    It's a magical atmosphere, like we're on the edge of the Universe  and can make time stand still,  manifesting a different world  when we step back into life again.  Such promise in the air!

Music by                          Lyrics by Teddy Edwards                John & Paula Hackett            Teddy's L.A. After Dark                Come to life                On this changing scene                Here's your part                Live your wildest dreams                Night arrives                just to celebrate                It happens here                in L.A.                After dark                From the beach       ...

Sabrina, Photo by Gary Hoshiyama Sabrina, Photo by Gary Hoshiyama Me and Sabrina @ The Culver Club in Culver City, CA Photo by Gary Hoshiyama Snow Goddess For Sabrina Her eyes reflect the Sun’s kiss as she walks upon water. Her wisdom traced on paw print sands as she softly treads along the shore. She dreams of snow-laden earth while paws frolic upon icy sea foam. Sabrina, goddess of snow spreads warmth melts hearts on Winter’s playground with love… joanneolivieri.weebly.com mypoeticjourney.weebly.com

Courageous Woman By Desiree Cady I don't know how you do it How you keep faking your beautiful smile When I know the pain you've known Keeps you walking those extra miles You say that faith gets you through You owe it to your prayers I look at you in disbelief I can't help but to stop and stare You possess a strength inside you Precious and unique You say what needs to be said When others are too frightened to speak You hold within you a power So unbelievably strong You say what is on your mind Even when you know it may be wrong You stand up tall, You stand and fight Through so many of your demons So many others would lie down and fail For so many different reasons Do me a favor for just this once Take a hard look inside of you There is such tremendous bravery In everything you do. ©2016 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 s...

DINNER IS SERVED I'll eat you raw... I'll sip you dry... I'll stew your insides... While I snack on your cries... I'll garnish your tenders... I'll season your loins... I'll dress your openings... Sell your rarities for coin... I'll bask you in sauces... I'll drench you in wines... I'll sauté your flesh... Leave no scraps behind... I'll seat you front and center... Watch you get what you deserve... I'll lift my glass in merriment... Alas, dinner is served ©Crystal Price ©Crystal Cunha ©2015 Bio:  Name: Crystal Price Age: 34 Residence: Fresno, CA I started writing poetry as a preteen living in the foster care system. Poetry was the oxygen that kept me from becoming an emotional vegetable. Poetry me & I it. Poetry is my life support, and my survival has, & always will depends on it.

PLAYPEN OF PIGS They drug me raw... While you lamed me... No birdies... Just black... Spats of disapproval... Limbs have no value here... Teasing me with end's prospect... Stuffing my listeners with wet oink... Bleek for the hopeful... Some asphalt, some sand... Meek for the naive... Not abuse, just men being men... In the eyes of passerbys... Fear dances a jig... A hooved dedication... In the playpen of pigs ©Crystal Cunha ©Crystal Price ©2015 Bio:  Name: Crystal Price Age: 34 Residence: Fresno, CA I started writing poetry as a preteen living in the foster care system. Poetry was the oxygen that kept me from becoming an emotional vegetable. Poetry me & I it. Poetry is my life support, and my survival has, & always will depends on it.

It All Comes Down To You by, Melissa R. Mendelson Swallow me down, so I can return back into the womb, where evil can’t penetrate the fabric of time as I lie safe inside of you. Bring me inside, so my body becomes yours. And we can become one as well as untouchable for love is stronger than hate. Enter my mind, and stay with me for dark times lie ahead, where nobody can survive alone. Seal me in to those memories you carry, so I’ll always be remembered as well as the times we’ve shared. Take me back from the arms of depression and put hope into my heart as I look deep into your eyes while your arms are wrapped around me to protect me from harm. Carry me off into the sweetest dream, where I can be happy and sleep peacefully. Fill me up because my fear has drained me, and I have no energy to stand. Take my hand and pull me back up because I feel like I am falling down this huge, dark hole as more terror stri...

STRIPPED You stripped away my right to choose... Stuffed my lips with hatred... Forced my hands to unsow good seeds... Lamed my limbs through calculated savagry... You are no more than a cowering simpleton... A starving jackal in a field of sheep... Stop right where you are... Your business here is done... You have sealed every fate... Uprooted all that could be moved... Move along now... Your work here is done! ©Crystal Cunha ©Crystal Price ©2015 Bio:  Name: Crystal Price Age: 34 Residence: Fresno, CA I started writing poetry as a preteen living in the foster care system. Poetry was the oxygen that kept me from becoming an emotional vegetable. Poetry me & I it. Poetry is my life support, and my survival has, & always will depends on it.

Literally, My Neck I travel here and there at break neck speeds stick my neck out when I must, and happily recall when I could neck for hours on end, but at times my neck can also become something quite literal, literally that stem between my torso and head, the vertebrae I’ve seen posed painfully in x-rays, that DMZ I’ve counted on for years the link I need to help me nod and turn my head when someone who turns heads goes by, hold my head up despite the circumstances, bow it when I feel humbled, I’ve clothed it in neckties and scarves, necklaces and chains, stretched it, hid it, know I could hang by it, can stretch it too far a guillotine awaits, my executioner tests his blade sends this preview, this literal pain in the neck that doesn’t go away, impervious to pills and ready to follow me through my neck of the woods. J. K. Durick is a writing teacher at the Community College of Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have ap...