DISAPPEARANCE 1. I considered the phoenix— into the fire, a quick release of gas, the efficacy of ash. But does one truly rise? Is it a spirit or a conscious recollection of the past? 2. Those who acknowledge nothing swim comfortably in the dark. The salt of their mother floats them. The mulch of their father awaits […]
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Walking in the Rain Walking in the rain I am a child again As raindrops fall upon my face and gently caress in warm embrace Bringing a smile, a playful laugh and For just awhile a memories past [su_lynn_long]
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A-PATHETIC Expecting the bad, receiving the worse, To pessimist’s just what’s par for the course. But when it devolves from worse to the worst, Seems even a pessimist can feel cursed. A cynic’s convinced whatever is right Cannot be achieved without quite a fight. But when this proves futile, he even might Retreat apathetically out of sight. A […]
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Panic A search for some trivial object in the midst of disordered furniture Seized upon just at that moment, giving birth to consternation Repulsion from travelling delayed by this selection; Travelling light, splitting energy-wholes into petty onenesses – At one with invisibility Use the fuel of panic to build up heat in an overcrowded room Breath […]
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The following is a collection of poems about Vietnam veterans and how their lives were forever changed by the horrific effects of the herbicidal warfare compound known as Agent Orange. A Life Without Guard Rails You think you got problems? You probably do but would you trade with Phillip, a Vietnam vet who still thinks Agent Orange lurks in every puddle […]
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Adultery I’d bang them out, wine-drunk and excited, and send them off to magazines. I had two lists; ones which liked me and ones I liked, and I’d fire them unedited like a shotgun scaring birds. each one 5 times to 5 different places. then I’d wait for any to come back. in general it started with rejections; […]
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EKPHRASIS, EKPHRASIS (By Joseph Cavera) Soon I’ll See Another Red Hand, Pulling Known Entities Nearer And Nearer, Even Kings Pray “Halt” ‘Round Sinister Inhuman Slaughter…
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AVERSION No rhythm, rhyme? That’s such a crime! Just passing prose Does not compose A poem. For such Needs structured touch For it to be Called poetry. To me, free verse Is just a curse Of laziness That’s patternless. For all it takes Is random breaks To be dispensed ‘Mid sentences. About Ray Gallucci: I am a Professional […]
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Processes Grammar of grief wraps itself around the tremors of time and chips: organize blue pencillers. This will obliterate your errors. Better still, equip yourself and be your own editor. [su_sanjeev_sethi]
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MISS JULIE-ANNE – By John Grey She pours drops of whiskey on the withered rose petals. Then wields the hose with a cigarette flopping from her lower lip. What doesn’t intoxicate her flowers, she drinks. Ashes fall onto the buds. The bees will have to suffer for their pollination. She passes the graves of all her cats, apologizes […]
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