Poetry

Early Morning, Tucson Foothills Shadows jag over rock and cactus playing tag with the rising sun, nature’s Rorschach asking me what these immense ink blots mean. This one’s the boogeyman scaring/scarring my daughter, that one’s a tarp smothering moist green ...

within those man stone walls promoting their god bringing us to him i told the priest- you tell us to be content with poverty while you live in this big house throwing us scraps begged from money lenders. this is ...

The Truth Is Out There On a cold, dark evening in a big city, A woman left a small box In front of a well lit house. She knocked on the door And when the porch light was lit, She ...

Feelings of uncertainty trapped inside absurdity As leaden stones of gray keep the hearts frailty at bay Hidden jewels, the souls fool Treasures beyond endeavor Forever to remain Forbidden to impart The secrets of one's heart ...

Practice Painting In my mind, it was going to be a perfect representation of the photo taken on our honeymoon. Holy statue figure, light flowing in, a bit of greenery tucked at the side, a small stone wall. But what ...

■ HOTAND COLD Perhaps 100million years To rise from naught, then disappear Above the Hot Spot in the Earth That to Hawaiian Chain gave birth. The oldest now perhaps just stumps, Once mountains proud, now merely bumps Long passed from ...

Arcachon Ebb tide to sea wave breaks, headland entrance, bay flow while the mooring buoys lie beside their weighted chains, seas gather, a grass island rises for the gull and heron-spear. A blue pinasse sits in mud, pine trees, lighthouse, ...

Vanquished by, Melissa R. Mendelson The vulture flew around in circles as its prey awoke to a world slipping apart piece after piece while the bald eagle lay buried in the sand. The vulture swooped by and ripped open an ...

Scorpion I touched a scorpion; it struck. It was my fault; I had been warned – But for one split second Its beauty-fascination wrenched me From reason’s ice. I don’t think anyone could find a scorpion ugly, They shine too ...

Poem By SIMON PERCHIK * Louder! though what comes by has already withered and along a certain curve your voice tapers off as the path bent over her shoulders spreading its flow into sunlight now riverbank and whisper –you need ...