Category: Poetry
-
Sonnet by Thomas Murphy
‘Love’s life is long, when even ardor’s spent,’Sayeth he, to the green-eyed lady; ‘lovesNot stiff enough to cling, nor linens rent,Urge passion rest its bonds like anger does.’Sayeth she, dear, dark lady, ‘in your eyes,Not mine;’ ‘time heals,’ sayeth he; ‘as its tears,’Sayeth she, ‘leaves in trail a scar then…
-
Zebra Crossings and A Requiem to the Thoughts We’ll Never Think Again by Estelle Bardot
Zebra Crossings When you were young,zebra crossings seemed like the longest roads you would ever have to take,the longest journey you would ever have to make.From waiting at the traffic-light,and looking at the one opposite you,imagining a tall, thin man being held captive,locked up inside the striped contraption,twiddling the dials…
-
The Irises Drowned by Jacklyn Whealan
The whistle of the kettleOf swallows drownedOut the crashingOf the iridescent ocean. What was once homeTo a bed of beautiful Irises,Is now drownedLeaving only roots and mud. Jacklyn Whealan is an aspiring poet currently attending Wentworth Institute of Technology, located in Boston, Massachusetts. She is currently earning a bachelor’s degree…
-
Reverie by Shirley Jellum
While dawn still sleeps she weaves a tapestryof dreams—blooms unfurl, petals swirl, pearl soft.Starshine blue and lunar white, memoriesunfold like wings of mourning doves aloft,their flight a dappled path toward light. Spunof shadows old and new, each threaded talebursts multi-hued, a kaleidoscope ofcooling moon and budding sun, ivied trailsleading her…
-
Badminton by Iona McHaney Marcellino
When I was a girl in Angola,The world was won with badminton That’s what I learned from DadAs I skidded back and forthBlistering bare feetOn that concrete slab called driveway ‘She returns, he dives, the crowd roars’Commentary erupts with each swingAs that Equator sky turns orange pink,Dusk sweeps across the…
-
Graceful, Gorgeous, Focused, Wild & The Giant Black Witch Moth by Nancee Cline
Graceful, Gorgeous, Focused, Wild Once upon a winding road, I metsomebody new–a friend, a foe, a guide? Driving the forest curves, the slowtwists of everyday afternoon light, in and out of scented evergreen shade.In those days I drove a Carmen Ghia, low to the ground, sandy beigewith a root beer…
-
TOO SOON by John DeAngelo
We always promisedwe ‘d say goodbyewhen the windwhich blew us togetherblew outand into each daywe tried to cram foreverever mindful that the eagletattooed as if in warningon your melon cheekwould fly you away too soon. Too few our daysand nights togetherwhen foreverwas what might have beenwhen yes was in everything…
-
It’s your time now, let me rest… by Martin Anguili
No!Not this year, I can’t.I don’t have the strength; I’m tired.No! When it’s enough it’s enough, I need to stop.If others want to move on, it doesn’t matter.I am tired. I don’t want to either! Shouted another.Since the dawn of life we give, we give without conditions, from season to…
-
Graffiti by Jerry Johnson
Origin: mid 19th century; from Italian (plural), from graffio ‘a scratch’ (New Oxford American Dictionary) itchy is that wallas it awaits graffio. the graffitist,urban artist,revolutionary—pushing back against norms,challenging tradition,fostering change. revisionist of the streetyou share your thoughtswith us —the concrete, the steel, the asphalt,the bridges long, thefreight cars wide,the skylines…