7:21 PM
Oil City
by Kenneth Godoy
It’s that kind of town,
that rains
two hours until twilight. Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: Oil City”
Matthew Cordella-Bontrager: Ground Cherries
Ground cherries are growing on the hell-strip
between the sidewalk and the street
in the scrubby patch where weeds grow wild, fertilized
by passing dogs and fed with tattered plastic wrappers, Continue reading . . . “Matthew Cordella-Bontrager: Ground Cherries”
Krislyn Shank: Alchemy of Happiness
In our dungeon cells of stone,
Wizened, recluse, all alone;
We are smelting with strange fire Continue reading . . . “Krislyn Shank: Alchemy of Happiness”
Julie Atkinson: Dream Planters
This is for the ones who walk
with their eyes open,
looking up.
It is for the wanderers Continue reading . . . “Julie Atkinson: Dream Planters”
Kenneth Godoy: The Road from Sinjar
The Road from Sinjar, 9:15 AM
by Kenneth Godoy
My mind is broken like the granite mountains.
And they are fractured and fissured,
Shattered to a myriad shards of glass and stone. Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: The Road from Sinjar”
Magdalene
by Claudia Esh
Her hands, the hands that dabbled in the coals,
caress the cool curve of serenity.
The liquid gold within is clear as dawn,
and smells of spikenard and prosperity. Continue reading . . . “Claudia Esh: Magdalene”
Unto Thee, O Lord, Have I Made My Supplication
Obi Martin
Song like song that is song,
bright as world’s-birth, but widening,
Shattering, out of equilibrium of nothing,
out of balance, out of essence, cries existence, Continue reading . . . “Obi Martin: Unto Thee, O Lord”
Lynn Michael Martin: Mortality
Ah Death, cold-throated king of impotence,
Robber of powers, lord of the certain peace,
Thou world where we are borne, and all worlds cease,
And all songs end, all cantos and laments— Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: Mortality”
Impressionistic Poem No. 3: Warsaw
9:18 PM
I could find no substance to my thoughts;
I searched and found naught but sweat,
and the scars here and about from old temptations. Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: Warsaw”
Conrad Martin: One Blade of Grass
One blade of grass.
One stem,
one leaf. Continue reading . . . “Conrad Martin: One Blade of Grass”
tall steel ladies
dance across the prairies
lifting lines
charged Continue reading . . . “Michelle Martin: Power Lines”
Lynn Michael Martin: Reepicheep
Reepicheep
by Lynn Michael Martin
Far on this widely foaming sea I sail
And cut across these endless dancing waves;
Adventures I have met, too great for tale,
Too long to fit a thousand measured staves. Continue reading . . . “Lynn Michael Martin: Reepicheep”
Smother me, Lord.
Let the hard harness of darkness,
drawn from far away,
be mine. Continue reading . . . “Kyle Lehman: Smother Me”
(This breathless stillness—
I must, I will break free!)
Now lucent to my eye
the purple light of glory Continue reading . . . “Grace Weaver: At Midnight”
A piece of star has fallen here,
I think. We rimmed it round with stones
and fed it trees. Oh, how it burns—
what passion in those frenzied golden wings Continue reading . . . “Claudia Esh: The Bonfire”
Kenneth Godoy: The Road to Sinjar
The road runs parallel to the stricken earth;
it’s a strip the stars forgot;
they fled with those that survived Sinjar. The hatred of the sun bakes this land where women were Continue reading . . . “Kenneth Godoy: The Road to Sinjar”
Conrad Martin: I Wandered Through a Land of Silent Hills
I wandered through a land of silent hills.
(The land is lost—nor where, nor name, nor why)
A grass-blown emptiness of wind-soft silences—
An endless prairie swept into an endless sky. Continue reading . . . “Conrad Martin: I Wandered Through a Land of Silent Hills”
Raise me free like summer breezes
wrenched from off the lawn.
Lift me like evaporation
break me like the dawn. Continue reading . . . “Obi Martin: Morning Poem”
In these forests,
the fern fields
flow onward in green waves.
You step carefully, Continue reading . . . “Julie Atkinson: Fern Poem”
Gloria Kurtz: A Child of Wonder
A Child of Wonder
by Gloria Kurtz
A child of wonder, here I stand, my Lord,
Inside a pink-rimmed dawning sky of light.
Assign my feet an unfamiliar way,
Not gratifying to my coddled sight. Continue reading . . . “Gloria Kurtz: A Child of Wonder”