Stanzaic Stylings

Come sit with me beneath  the sycamore tree We'll share our stories and whisper our dreams You'll tell me yours I'll tell you mine And together, we'll stay lost in time

My Beloved Poet I wasn't looking  when I found you,  I've been expecting  your arrival forever.  You've turned into  everything I wished  and wanted, always bringing peace to my  hurt and tormented soul.  You turned my gray days  into colorful rainbows,  while each of your tender  words were tattooed deep  inside my impassioned heart.  You've caressed me without  touching me and your kisses have returned my bright smile  and restored my faith in love. (Initially published on Whispers) 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, S...

like a mad moment like a stone spirit locked in a quartz crystal   Where is the god of the dead, the wide mouthed turtle that shivers and stabs?   I lost a brother never birthed, small as a piece of exploding balloon.   Nearby, a science class of liver eaters, white water bouncing from rock to rock,   and I who resist sleep as I resist sex, never dream, yet I am the one who discovered the Continent of Columbus,   the mad cities of Amerigo Vespucci, the bone fragmented totems of Magellan,   but not the syphilis of Captain Cook and his tribe of salt eaters, their great sails gods with wings.   The women of the island swan out to them laughing, their lack of inhibition a perfume.   Nor did I discover the golden esophagus’s of the Conquistadors so thirsty for gold, once when they were captured,   they were forced to drink it. Who among us searches for the Monograph of Truth in the jungle,   in the night? ...

Happy Holidays to all from Stanzaic Stylings. We will be closed to submissions  until January 1, 2018 Thank you

Tattooed Touch Two poets who fell in love... writing letters on by Blanca Alicia Garza each others skin using fingerprints and lip caresses  Leaving them printed  like tattoos that  will remain forever  and spending the  nights reading them  like marvelous  great sonnets  and love stories  printed in braille. (Published in Dandelion In A Vase of Roses 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. Blanca was recently nominated for The Best of the Net 2017...

Destiny  She is clothed with an inner strength and laughs without fear of the future. eye shine, ignites sparks in my heart. she judges none, and walks with grace. Her dreams are in a technicolor palette and lights her way through the darkness. She adores dancing in the pouring rain Blowing dandelions in summer breezes  Talks to the moon about her eternal love  She smiles as squirrels dance in trees, loves spending time watching kids play. Her dream was to be a great writer, but  falling in love with a poet was her destiny. (Initially published on The Song Is) 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, Indi...

Visceral  It grieves. It aches. It sobs into my hands, quivering orphan angst, abandoned. Passersby refuse to pick it up, examine it. Slips in to my back pocket folds on itself, silenced for now. Bio: Theresa A. Cancro writes poetry, short fiction and nonfiction. Dozens of her poems and short fiction pieces have been published internationally online and in print. She strives to find sparks of wonder in the ordinary.

BENIN Yawning out, A bronze of ancient dawn, Bustling and buzzing with life, Like a swarm of bees; Awkwardly awakened, In Ozolua moat. Bellowing; With spiralling sinews of smokes: Crawling sheepishly. ascending; From Iduh Owina to the hearths of Ekhiadolor; Into the naked ivory of the sky. And zealous feets; Meandering carelessly; Negotiating steps, at the fringes; And coughing locomotives; Bursting like raucous Mushrooms on fertile soil - on the roads. Eddie Awusi lives in Benin city where he runs a small personal business. He has a degree in English literature. He has been published in Dandelions in a Vase of Roses, Voices of the Aspirants, FM 20 among other poetry anthologies. His poetry has also appeared in different poetry magazine in Europe, America, Africa and Asia

" During the Autumn's calling and November's chill; we watch Fairies dance in the fallen whetted leaves." Biography: Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet from New Hampshire now residing on the southern plains of Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms and time with his cat Willa.  He is a three time nominee for the  Pushcart Prize Award  and twice for the  Best of the Net  for 2016-2017. Ken loves life! © Ken Allan Dronsfield

LOVE "Night that was hollow, Empty space that was not seen, Chant that was so loving, Freedom that I've  seen. Time that passed by, Fate that has been, None will defy, Love has been there. Freedom achieved guts, It is love that can defy all odds. Powerful than all, Love can heal what war destroyed." BIO : Donabell de Apera from Lucban, Quezon Philippines is an industrial engineer by profession, though is unemployed due to a traumatic brain Injury. She is a freelance poet.

Freedom Journey   Among the ruins of broken lives, they came across great expanses, searching for a place to rest their weariness. Empty from hunger. Full from hope.   Carrying with them stories of their pasts, and the bones of their ancestors. Multitudes marching, while looking out over myriad expressions, in quest of a familiar face.   Grasping the future in clasped hands tucked into worn pockets. Afraid to let go, lest dreams scatter like lost seeds among devouring crows of indifference.   Tiredness overtaking, broken bodies pitch tents of sparse comfort. Taking refuge along the never ending journey of freedom. Ann Christine Tabaka lives in Delaware, USA.  She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.  Her most recent credits are The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch...

The Deer Crossing - A Sonnet Sun slowly dipping in the western sky; the winds are light and the pine boughs swaying. From their warm, peaceful beds the meek and shy, walk to the river; time for the crossing. To the fields above, to graze for a meal; prance through the meadow, always listening. Hear the Blue Jay; alerting all with zeal. Just twilight now, time to make the crossing. Squirrels have disappeared, gone to their beds. Barn Owls glide by upon whispering wings. Night animals stir, sleepiness now shed. Stand on the bank, ready for the crossing. Waters are cool; taking a little drink. Browse til dawn, then return to the crossing. Biography: Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran and poet from New Hampshire now residing on the southern plains of Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms and time with his cat Willa.  He is a three time nominee for the  Pushcart Prize Award  and twice for the  Best of the Net  fo...

Mongrel Words Mongrel words ingest the harmony of poetry Bequeathing it with a reality of sinew and bone The misfit words are the rising citadel That bares the cradle of short range dreams of men & women Bulldozing the long range plans Everyday I chew on the malcontented words Nourishing me with the spine and raw muscle to kiss the morning To hug the night in gracious avidity I drink the miscued words with unquenching thirst I stride up to the bar of life and grab another bottle I cannot get enough of the bullets and knives they heaves At the reality of our blue ball lost in space For the molesting words are psalms   Without the menacing words the harmony of poetry is spat out We are as dead as the void without a godhead Let us be possessed by misbecoming words Bio Grant Guy is a Winnipeg, Canada, poet, writer and playwright. Former artistic director of Adhere + Deny. His writings have been published in Canada, the United States, Wales, India an...

Courage By Desiree Cady With pain in her heart And fear in her eyes She packed up her things Left without a single goodbye Not a bruise on her body His fists left no trace But his words resonated Deep down in a sacred place At 19 she was a child Not knowing what love was Naive she believed him Like a young child does As she became older  That is when she knew Love isnt just something you say It's something you do His words they cut deep Ripping out her soul He began diminishing her happiness Her innocence he stole Stand by her family Be faithful to her man Til death do us part That was supposed to be the plan No longer wanting to gamble When her life was at stake She swallowed her fears Decided it was a risk she would take For his "love" was killing her She was finally done Spending another second with him Was roulette with a fully loaded gun She decided it was time  To fina...

Path to the Heart  Write me a sweet poem.  Kiss me softly with sweet butterfly kisses on my skin. Guiding them gently upon my entire thirsty body. Make me forget the pain in this world and even my own name for a little while. And let me recite yours  through the sweetest of whispers and throes of passion. Let me sing softly  into your ear Igniting the fire  and with the tips of your fingers  discover even my most deepest  desires. Find that path that  leads directly to my heart.  Make me forever yours. 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, Rav...

Scarves I want to make scarves from the sky. Since I'm not much of a seamstress, here's hoping it won't be too hard. To start I'll just pick up a fleecy white cloud to cover my neck. Maybe create a dove grey scarf and cut out pale blue ones too.  Make entire closets full of them. At sunset I will fashion boas of bright ruby and tangerine. If lucky I'll find some rainbow kaleidoscopes to wrap up in. My  midnight  shawl will be long gleaming ebony covering the shoulders keeping in warmth. I will list them on eBay and Craig's, hang pictures on my Facebook wall. Imagine, everybody will want them! Would you like one too? Better put your order in now. 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 Revi...

Unrequited Love A most foolish path I chose to pursue For it leads, alas To nowhere, but you So, in snippet and rhyme I reach out in word Hoping you read me I write to be heard Still, you ignore The words so dear For their meaning Resounds All too clear Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist

Casey at the Bat (Sestina) It didn't look good for the nine from Mudville as the game entered the bottom of the ninth inning; four players were scheduled to bat before the order came around to Casey If two of the four got on he would win them the game, because there was no chance he'd strike out But the first two batters were rapidly put out, and hope was dwindling here in Mudville; it looked like a quick one-two-three inning But the next two hitter who came to bat got hits, and that brought the great Casey to the plate with a chance to win the game Yes, Casey would win them the game if only he could clout one out, and there would be great happiness in Mudville over the come-from-behind win in the last inning, especially if the game-winning blow was off the bat of the soon-to-be-immortal Casey Yes, it would be idolized Casey who would now be the star of the game From the on-deck circle he stepped out, and there was ...

Surreal Name  you journey through my name through the rocky turns, lost lanes, dark alleys, deep pits  some no way outs  of each letters crossing rough ridges, broken bridges between generations, all fatigued, now crossing  through the desolation  of my surname  where strolling through  the same ruins, you find  much to your disappointment, I may be no different then you reach the end  all worn out, devasted  find me there, standing, with open arms  calling your name. Bio: Born on 1988 in a small town of Silchar, Assam, India. Daipayan Nair is a freelance writer/columnist, poet, fiction writer and essayist. His works have been published in a lot of printed anthologies and online poetry journals like The Poetry Breakfast, The Galway Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 Literary Journal, Duane's PoeTree Blog etc. He was recently awarded The Reuel International Poetry Prize ...

Good Amateurs Eyes have remembered Themselves Time and again As an opening  Soon turning into a blot  The reason  I see a coagulated dawn  On your forehead  Two children  Quite relaxed  On your face  Out of a mature fission Returning all its pain,  Love received  Back to the maker  Blinding my adult As when a parent Doesn't want to see further Post-sleep, He is quite proud  Of his two kids  Controlling a scenery Confessing  Like amateurs. Bio: Born on 1988 in a small town of Silchar, Assam, India. Daipayan Nair is a freelance writer/columnist, poet, fiction writer and essayist. His works have been published in a lot of printed anthologies and online poetry journals like The Poetry Breakfast, The Galway Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 Literary Journal, Duane's PoeTree Blog etc. He was recently awarded The Reuel International Poetry Prize 2016. His works...

Red Closeted Dream Cold and empty walls Silence that tears the soul  Memories moistening the eyes Promises the wind took away  An unworn red dress left forgotten in a closet  A white rose symbolizing eternal love stored in the dusty drawer of oblivion. 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.

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...

Stills When I revive you by  from a past of being torn,  being plucked with force, being made  a lover's bouquet without choice How could I ignore the silent breeze, its own share of pollens swaying your mind for a while Now, there are two roses left: Which blooms after death  The other that blooms before it  To the flower, I can say, 'it's full of beauty' even when the garden isn't full of it Your petals around it  is just your photograph. Bio: Born on 1988 in a small town of Silchar, Assam, India. Daipayan Nair is a freelance writer/columnist, poet, fiction writer and essayist. His works have been published in a lot of printed anthologies and online poetry journals like The Poetry Breakfast, The Galway Review, Tuck Magazine, 1947 Literary Journal, Duane's PoeTree Blog etc. He was recently awarded The Reuel International Poetry Prize 2016. His works have been translated in q...