Stanzaic Stylings

The Wishing Fountain It was a foggy morning as we walked around In the big city of San Francisco when we found A wishing fountain with a bright white trim Crystal clear water filling it to the brim And, oh dear, circles of silver and brown Which made me and my child frown As a penny disturbed the water I was asked by my dear daughter “Why would you throw away money With which you could buy a bunny? Mommy, if you were to make a wish Would you ask for a pretty goldfish?” I looked down at her with a smile And said, “Honey, it may take awhile For everyone to realize what we sorely need Is a leader who will plant the seed Of world peace. Someone to encourage unity Among the people of our large community If I were to rule the world, I would make it A place where no one feels like a misfit Where there would be no bullying or fights And no criminals to roam the streets at night So whether it be a wishing fountain or a shooting star I woul...

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.

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       ...

                      War Story   I have a black and white winter picture of my father and grandfather standing in front of our house on Willard Street.   They are at the mouth of the driveway and have been shoveling, but stop to rest and look at the camera for a moment.   I can almost hear my mother saying, let me get a picture. They aren’t smiling. The snow is deep. The snow, even from here, looks heavy.   They aren’t dressed for the job. They are indoor people caught unprepared for this, the weight of the weather, the need to smile.   It must have been a lull between storms, the need to get to the store, and the lack of anyone more fitted to the task at hand.   It is the 1940s. This is men’s essential work summarized in shades of gray, one moment captured in what must have been hours.   It is the 1940s. They look tired and older than the...

Reflections Never has she looked lovelier nor I felt lonelier we came to the cafe to discuss and now I can't even begin to bring up the truth we can only bear to look at each other's reflection Biography: David Francis has produced five albums of songs, one of poems, and "Always/Far," a chapbook of lyrics and drawings.  His film "Village Folksinger" has been screened in New York, Texas, Connecticut and England.  David's poems and stories have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies. http://davidfrancismusic.com/

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...

Torrid sincerity If I could build a bridge out of sunshine And only sincere-hearted people could cross it without getting the soles of their feet burned How many would beg for a rain shower to ease the pain ... Probably I would make a nice profit, selling burn ointments and blister plasters at the opposite side © Daginne Aignend Bio Daginne Aignend is a pseudonym for the Dutch poetess Inge Wesdijk. She likes hard rock music, photography and fantasy books. She is a vegetarian and spends a lot of time with her animals. Daginne started to write English poetry four years ago and posted some of her poems on her Facebook page and on her website www.daginne.com

e a s t w a r d I turn eastward to allow the radiance of the sun to light my way. And I allow the moon to descend without grace from Heaven’s warmth and peaceful embrace. My hopes have been liberated from the chains that were made to bind them. And I bask in the knowledge that I have been victorious over all of the pain and suffering that I have chosen to leave far behind. ~laura j. minning excerpt from “a verbal collage” c. november    2006 brcartandpoetry.wordpress.com Laura Minning  began writing creatively at the age of nine. She’s become an award winning published poet and author since that time. All in all, she’s had one-hundred and seven individual poems, six articles, two books, two plays and one piece of prose published in both hard copy and on-line. Her work has been featured in publications like “Literature Today”, “Amulet Magazine” and “Slate & Style”. Laura received her first Editor’s Choice Aw...

Iridescent  silken strands  intricately  woven disband For  again  and  again the  spider will  spin Until  her web  of  magnificence becomes a deadly trap  of silence Lynn Long is an aspiring writer/novelist.