Ophelia’s Blues (By John Biscello) her sad sea-green dress, an epitaph, rippling quietly, as if in a dream. the small history of a fresh wraith, white fingers forever separating the bones from the silt. Originally from Brooklyn, NY, author, poet and playwright, John Biscello, has lived in Taos, New Mexico for the past thirteen years. He is the author […]
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ALAS – By Elaine Nadal I was told I have her eyes, her thick brows– didn’t think much of it: We all have something of someone. My sister has Aunt Natalia’s smile. My brother has Uncle Silo’s curly hair (back in the day when my uncle had hair). I was just glad I didn’t inherit Aunt Rosa’s squared shape. […]
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Salt and Pepper White privilege it’s called and recently I learned its name although I’ve been white as a sheet for decades. Like breathing and eating I take white privilege for granted. I push a cart through a megastore in bib overalls and no one follows me and when I hail a cab in a snow storm, it picks me up. My freckles may be a stop sign. Not so […]
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A RESTFUL MIND (By Joseph Cavera) After so many days Of laying one’s hands to work One searches the many ways That duties can be skipped and shirked At these particular times When the inside of one’s eyelids Holds the more alluring of charms Than the world around We find ourselves searching At distant grounds For a […]
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Lead Us Not Into Never mind young beauties on campus, glimpses of skin on obscene screens, the centripetal force of super-fiction — my siren beckons with perfect diction from its nook on the refrigerator door. Drop the tablespoon I self-command but it appears velcroed to my hand. I kick myself with each step across the kitchen. […]
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WINGS OF PESTILENCE (By Joseph Cavera) Once there was a farm out east Ancient wooden barn With piles of straw And long mahogany fields The land swelled with crops Corn enough for every man Woman, and child Line after line Veggie after fruit Spade over hand And shovel under foot, Those columns grew Each year, waves […]
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The Path of Art II In primitive times unknown individuals painted on cave walls not for interior decoration, but artistic expression, that would unlike today, with no gallery opening for an elite crowd, perhaps just the clan, yet if they saw the strange images might have burned, stoned, banished the strange one, rather than give a scathing review in […]
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Before the Horoscope Nine planets juggle me on cusps And boil flood-chemistry to speed me. Will blows from Geminian ash, Sinks through quicksilver. Out-sensed, earth and fire are lit; Or fears invert that gaunt imminence Thrust all into the gulf. Beyond sear fuller flames – Tempered, reserved, Approved as solid, then abhorred As dark absorption in one […]
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Tangled up in a spider web what an icky feeling thought after thought then suddenly I’m bitten. Danny P. Barbare resides in the Southern U.S. in the Upstate of the Carolinas. He has been writing poetry on and off for 33 years. He has several books available on amazon.com: Being a Janitor and Gathered Poems.
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AROUND STILL (By Joseph Cavera) Walks and treads with no look back, His world under him, simply ground, Unconcerned with what it may lack, It is more opportunities, Waiting to be found …lying in wait, Still around
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