"What's for breakfast, Blue" (for a threelegged
dog tribute poem double self
portrait with hinge.. .
you can't make an omelette without
you see some of us were born to trouble
son when seeing flocks of sheep idly
graze on each others thoughts
in fantasy fields of gentle lies
agreed by some mere mutuality
can't help but bark and it's your
job, Blue, to get 'em moving in the other
direction, they're headin' for the gate, boy,
even it means the only friend left to
talk to is you, Blue,
he says,
melting butter and chopping garlic.
Paul Squires, Australia
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Friday, 28 November 2008
At Andy’s Deli by Shane Allison
‘Bout lost my mind when I didn’t see the usual.
Where the pies at? I asked the cute, East Indian man
Standing behind the counter.
We sold out, he said.
I didn’t know Hostess Apple Pies were so popular
Among the masses of Greenwich Village.
He knows how much I like my real fruit filling,
The preservatives and artificial flavors.
My world ain’t nothin’ but a flaky crust,
A cream-filled Twinkie.
Gotta get somethin’.
My sweet tooth is killin’ me.
What’s it going to be:
Snowballs?
Ho Ho’s?
Zingers?
Crumb Coffee Cakes?
None of this I like.
Wait, this look good:
Coconut Crunch Donut Delites.
Six in a row.
I’ll take these, I told the clerk.
Place two quarters in his hand.
Pull open the wrapper,
Took the first one out for a taste test,
And right then I knew, this was the last snack cake
That was going to take the place of my everyday routine.
Shane Allison, Florida, USA
Where the pies at? I asked the cute, East Indian man
Standing behind the counter.
We sold out, he said.
I didn’t know Hostess Apple Pies were so popular
Among the masses of Greenwich Village.
He knows how much I like my real fruit filling,
The preservatives and artificial flavors.
My world ain’t nothin’ but a flaky crust,
A cream-filled Twinkie.
Gotta get somethin’.
My sweet tooth is killin’ me.
What’s it going to be:
Snowballs?
Ho Ho’s?
Zingers?
Crumb Coffee Cakes?
None of this I like.
Wait, this look good:
Coconut Crunch Donut Delites.
Six in a row.
I’ll take these, I told the clerk.
Place two quarters in his hand.
Pull open the wrapper,
Took the first one out for a taste test,
And right then I knew, this was the last snack cake
That was going to take the place of my everyday routine.
Shane Allison, Florida, USA
Monday, 24 November 2008
the streets are lined by David McLean
the streets are lined with where they were
once – all those who simply stopped
like being was dust in nobody's pocket
and living sinful
the streets are lined with memories
and the fact that i do not remember them
and none are in any everyday heaven
where angels piece their days together
out of love and tiny flakes of snow
the recollection that collects in the nose
as the blood dries still in my lively veins
and crystals that line my face
are licked from the devil's threadbare
carpet, chewing the glass for my eyes
i do not remember them, never knew them
memories and life, just tired time
tonight
David McLean, Sweden
once – all those who simply stopped
like being was dust in nobody's pocket
and living sinful
the streets are lined with memories
and the fact that i do not remember them
and none are in any everyday heaven
where angels piece their days together
out of love and tiny flakes of snow
the recollection that collects in the nose
as the blood dries still in my lively veins
and crystals that line my face
are licked from the devil's threadbare
carpet, chewing the glass for my eyes
i do not remember them, never knew them
memories and life, just tired time
tonight
David McLean, Sweden
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
American Romantics 11/5/2008 by Amir Elzeni
As the dreamer's eyes open
the world changes
and barriers become
steps
life changing moments hovering
close in our minds
memories relentlessly
knocking
we grow up carrying close
what we never tell
yet it's right here
on us
can't blame our minds wild
taking off on a wink
sprinkling cinnamon
chances
holding out for some magic
lit deep within us
despite our needs
alone
taking the hard road home
rising above the pain
beating the odds
humbly
whispering in our own hearts
fireworks at midnight
pointing at the moon
knowing.
Amir Elzeni, USA
the world changes
and barriers become
steps
life changing moments hovering
close in our minds
memories relentlessly
knocking
we grow up carrying close
what we never tell
yet it's right here
on us
can't blame our minds wild
taking off on a wink
sprinkling cinnamon
chances
holding out for some magic
lit deep within us
despite our needs
alone
taking the hard road home
rising above the pain
beating the odds
humbly
whispering in our own hearts
fireworks at midnight
pointing at the moon
knowing.
Amir Elzeni, USA
Monday, 17 November 2008
Moving to the City by Robert S King
Coming here,
broken farmers must believe
that the clouds plant their seeds in concrete
and skyscrapers grow:
tall stalks of corn,
long rows of one-way traffic,
horn honks replacing the songs of birds,
seeds spilling from their pockets fast as money.
Some return to a poor mule,
looking across a stubborn back
where the skyline is a monument:
the stalled traffic of tombstones.
Robert S King, Florida, USA
broken farmers must believe
that the clouds plant their seeds in concrete
and skyscrapers grow:
tall stalks of corn,
long rows of one-way traffic,
horn honks replacing the songs of birds,
seeds spilling from their pockets fast as money.
Some return to a poor mule,
looking across a stubborn back
where the skyline is a monument:
the stalled traffic of tombstones.
Robert S King, Florida, USA
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Self Healing by Amir Elzeni
Morning burst
into my heart,
my eyes
find light,
unlike birth
you wake up
carrying yesterday,
the soul
gets lonely,
and I,
write
poems.
Amir Elzeni, USA
into my heart,
my eyes
find light,
unlike birth
you wake up
carrying yesterday,
the soul
gets lonely,
and I,
write
poems.
Amir Elzeni, USA
Friday, 7 November 2008
The Instant You Were Gone by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
The instant you were gone
I started dwelling about the past.
I had a razor on
my mind. I used to worship you.
The instant you were gone
I took flight of all my senses.
I started dwelling on
the past. Not even your shadow
lingered. My eyeballs ached
like tiny stars catching on fire.
I was a bird longing
for death. Your name ripped from my tongue.
Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, CA, USA
I started dwelling about the past.
I had a razor on
my mind. I used to worship you.
The instant you were gone
I took flight of all my senses.
I started dwelling on
the past. Not even your shadow
lingered. My eyeballs ached
like tiny stars catching on fire.
I was a bird longing
for death. Your name ripped from my tongue.
Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, CA, USA
Monday, 3 November 2008
cracked earth girl by Regina C J Green
cracked earth girl
childhood a dry bed of memories
sun-baked exhortations
and wallowing efforts
make for dull eyes
blue turned to crusty brown
a falling away of skin
leaves falling
earth falling
head falling
watering hole past the stage
of caring
forgotten dreams
dried up dreams
cracked earth girl
parched inflamed gone dead
it takes very little effort
to fall asleep now
Regina C J Green, Florida, USA
childhood a dry bed of memories
sun-baked exhortations
and wallowing efforts
make for dull eyes
blue turned to crusty brown
a falling away of skin
leaves falling
earth falling
head falling
watering hole past the stage
of caring
forgotten dreams
dried up dreams
cracked earth girl
parched inflamed gone dead
it takes very little effort
to fall asleep now
Regina C J Green, Florida, USA
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