Poem – Walking In The Rain (By Lynn Long)

Walking in the Rain Walking in the rain I am a child again As raindrops fall upon my face and gently caress in warm embrace Bringing a smile, a playful laugh and For just awhile a memories past
Read moreWalking in the Rain Walking in the rain I am a child again As raindrops fall upon my face and gently caress in warm embrace Bringing a smile, a playful laugh and For just awhile a memories past
Read moreA-PATHETIC Expecting the bad, receiving the worse, To pessimist’s just what’s par for the course. But when it devolves from worse to the worst, Seems even a pessimist can feel cursed. A cynic’s convinced whatever is right Cannot be achieved without quite a fight. But when this proves futile, he even might Retreat apathetically out of sight. A […]
Read moreThe following is a collection of poems about Vietnam veterans and how their lives were forever changed by the horrific effects of the herbicidal warfare compound known as Agent Orange. A Life Without Guard Rails You think you got problems? You probably do but would you trade with Phillip, a Vietnam vet who still thinks Agent Orange lurks in every puddle […]
Read moreAdultery I’d bang them out, wine-drunk and excited, and send them off to magazines. I had two lists; ones which liked me and ones I liked, and I’d fire them unedited like a shotgun scaring birds. each one 5 times to 5 different places. then I’d wait for any to come back. in general it started with rejections; […]
Read moreEKPHRASIS, EKPHRASIS (By Joseph Cavera) Soon I’ll See Another Red Hand, Pulling Known Entities Nearer And Nearer, Even Kings Pray “Halt” ‘Round Sinister Inhuman Slaughter…
Read moreAVERSION No rhythm, rhyme? That’s such a crime! Just passing prose Does not compose A poem. For such Needs structured touch For it to be Called poetry. To me, free verse Is just a curse Of laziness That’s patternless. For all it takes Is random breaks To be dispensed ‘Mid sentences. About Ray Gallucci: I am a Professional […]
Read moreProcesses Grammar of grief wraps itself around the tremors of time and chips: organize blue pencillers. This will obliterate your errors. Better still, equip yourself and be your own editor.
Read moreMISS JULIE-ANNE – By John Grey She pours drops of whiskey on the withered rose petals. Then wields the hose with a cigarette flopping from her lower lip. What doesn’t intoxicate her flowers, she drinks. Ashes fall onto the buds. The bees will have to suffer for their pollination. She passes the graves of all her cats, apologizes […]
Read moreI am guilty of skipping chapters stained with shadows Missing moments not composed I feel unworthy of your tales untold, reserved for me, while dust sleeps upon the page There […]
Read moreTHE STUDS IN THE BAR – By John Grey Rosalie is at the bar thinking – who’s next? Then two extravagant, exaggerated beings enter, one behind the other, like stallions, heads high, tails swishing, threaten to pull the floor out from under the regular male patrons with their jangling gold, French cologne, and styled hair flopping on the brow like […]
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