MONUMENTS – By Herb Siegel Generals sit erect while marble horses rear high, fallen comrades lie etched beneath. Presidents in chiseled rocks, bodiless soldiers entombed wrapped daily in a wreath. Obelisks’ soar marking feats of heroism, granite arches harbor battles won and lost. Gravestones hiding dead from vandalism iconic landmarks stand in sun and frost. Yet end comes to […]
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Just a toy though the string is still afraid, tied as if inside a weightlessness is pulling it closer and closer and can’t let go caged in on all sides by the color blue and emptiness –a trapped balloon, banded the way all buoys spread out and the channel lurking below unravels as rain that has no water […]
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ROMAN RUMINATION I went to visit ancient Rome, But found it never fell. Its buildings may seem crumbled stone, But it’s alive and well. Its mighty temples still exist Though in an altered form. Its rings of gold and amethyst Still fingers rich adorn. For in the City Vatican The emperor still reigns, Descended from Octavian, […]
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Dance of Tears, Chief Nobody (V5) By Michael Lee Johnson I’m old Indian chief story plastered on white scattered sheets, Caucasian paper blowing in yesterday’s winds. I feel white man’s presence in my blindness– cross over my ego my borders urinates over my pride, my boundaries– I cooperated with him until death, my blindness. I’m Blackfoot proud, mountain […]
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Flying a Sign – By Chrystal Berche Wild eyed woman, her hair a mess Shakes as she goes person to person begging for cigarettes A foot away an old man sleeps, his head pillowed on a graying jacket ‘Will work for food’ printed neatly on a sign tied to his chest What place is this where ‘flying a sign’ is […]
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You have to keep going. It’s okay to turn around and look at the view take a few breaths –but the goal is the top and it’s a long way off and the sun is moving –You have to keep trucking over rocks and boulders, sand and snow. In the Northeast Kingdom or the Inland Empire, Sierra Nevada or […]
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At the Gazebo in Winter Under the gazebo, a shade of gray I can hear and see the lake lapping, just beyond the pines. Unlike winter, the empty campsites and hardwood trees I have my art called poetry.
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PAPERS FLUTTER Papers flutter Pears fall And fall All Fall In orchards Of near-death Where you Reside Hiding behind Trees and Piles of over- Ripe fruit Waiting for Snow blankets Waiting for No sun I feel you Your presence Your feet like Quicksand And eyes bigger Than the bang That birthed The sun
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Goodnight Sweet City Goodnight by Mike Matter Goodnight sweet city, goodnight Hold your evening close by and ready the mid-morning-missed realization of sunrise Fly your noise through the heights of the rich and poor alike then scatter your ash over the higher A dream lies filled with visions of height and glory seasoned with an agonizing challenge, joy, grandiose […]
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Driving into a storm graying a cloud-mottled sky, mist climbs the building towers, umbrellas shudder below. A broken water line arcs an icy sidewalk, stoplights fail, freezing the intersections. The side street crosswalk cop spins and whistles, pauses cars as he passes the ladies on. Buses bounce a pothole lane, side panels milky with engine-melted ice. Street breezes worry […]
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