Sunday, 30 November 2008

Three-legged Dog With Omelette by Paul Squires

"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

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:
Ho Ho’s?
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


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

life changing moments hovering
close in our minds
memories relentlessly

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

holding out for some magic
lit deep within us
despite our needs

taking the hard road home
rising above the pain
beating the odds

whispering in our own hearts
fireworks at midnight
pointing at the moon

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

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,


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

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