TOO MANY NIGHTS
Too many nights
in solitude
feeling
the emptiness
us loners
alone
vivid dreams
at fingertips
leaving moisture
on our lips.
LOVE TRAIN
Ride me like I'm the last train to Heaven.
Tickle my belly. Pat my forehead.
Gaze out my windows and see
the New Land.
Ride me...
Ride me...
We'll never run out of track.
THE HIP TOUR
Going on
the hip tour
strutting
summer in my steps
I shame
those teasers
with a flutter
of my green eyes
growing wings to Malibu
landing in a backyard
of some rich Wilt
I'll deceive
until he proves himself
a gem.
the sun is sparkling, the rain rumbling, and we badly need some poetry...
Saturday 28 May 2011
Thursday 26 May 2011
Russell Streur - One Poem
The Advice of Li Po’s Ghost
We have cash in hand
For Turkish figs
Black pepper
And Medjool dates
The moon at wax
Through the window
Is always free
And the price of night
Is never due
Until the morning
When Li Po’s ghost
Whispers in our ears
‘Never say no
To wine.’
We have cash in hand
For Turkish figs
Black pepper
And Medjool dates
The moon at wax
Through the window
Is always free
And the price of night
Is never due
Until the morning
When Li Po’s ghost
Whispers in our ears
‘Never say no
To wine.’
Stephen Willams - Three Poems
LOST LOVE
Lost love
running down my leg
into a puddle,
a lake,
a sea drowning me.
OLD MEMORIES
Old memories
constantly nibbling
at the edges of my mind...
I wish to return.
TRAPPED
Trapped in aging
skin,
muscle,
bone...
I ache to fly....
Lost love
running down my leg
into a puddle,
a lake,
a sea drowning me.
OLD MEMORIES
Old memories
constantly nibbling
at the edges of my mind...
I wish to return.
TRAPPED
Trapped in aging
skin,
muscle,
bone...
I ache to fly....
Ron Koppelberger - One Poem
Sweet Sanctity
Remedies of discovery and vigilance,
An arrow in ascending melancholy
And balanced spectacle,
A trapping in torn vestures of charm,
Descried by the touch of loves sweet sanctity
And passions arrival, the flourishing bond of devoted
Security and care for the ancient arts
Of affection, a tear in gentle waves
Of sufferance and radiant will.
Diane Webster - Two Poems
A MATTER OF SWARMS
Swarms of gnats
encircle the parked car
while bird watchers muse
and applaud, ooh and ah
like Fourth of July fireworks
as hundreds of sand hill cranes
fly away into Colorado’s blue sky.
A MOMENT OF YOUTH
Old man shuffles
his walker and dog
up the hill.
Scream, “Mush!”
and slap that leash
across canine hinny
and ride that walker
like a silver-streaking sled
sliding over sidewalk cement
all the way to the top
never minding blown-off hat
lying in the gutter with leaves.
Whoop and holler
all the way to the front door.
“Whew. We made it, pal,”
and the dog wags its tail.
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