Home Poetry - Year V - Number 29 - October 2019

Poetry - Year V - Number 29 - October 2019

    THE TROP by David Somerset

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    THE TROP by David Somerset   The Trop          The game drones on.The Trop is a “pinball game”  baseball field, named after orange juice.A hit ball striking one...

    FOCUS by Antonio Rios

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    FOCUS by Antonio Rios  NOVEMBER 17, 2010 Clouds slowly rolled across the sky overhead.A heavyset man sold hotdogs at the street corner.Three young...

    ONE SINGLE ROSE by Edward Bonner

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    ONE SINGLE ROSEby Edward Bonner  ONE SINGLE ROSEIf I could offer one single rose’with ruby petals,blades of crimson,showered in dreams,from my garden where seasons are unknown.Would you understand?If a stream runs through graciously’in...

    ROUGH RIDE by George Gad Economou

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    ROUGH RIDE by George Gad Economou  Rough Ride time to spend a few hours to watch Wrestlekingdom,and I wish you were here, to...

    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet

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    SCAVENGERS by Hank Kalet Father Becomes the Son He says he should justhave a heart attack. Done. And whenI reprimand, I feel the...

    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson

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    SUNDAY AFTERNOON by Stuart Rawlinson  Commutations The morning commute begins on the hourAs nighttime and daylight adjoin in friction.Buses interrupt as I squint...

    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler

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    WILLOW AND BARK by Sally Sandler  Somedays I Am That Cypress                                                                                 The past has all blown east.The Monterey cypress felt it leavein...

    CAPTIVE by David Williamson

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    Captive Thursday’s trap door below hermemory swings and                   upclimbs the same captoralways that man, grey wool suitred carnationtaking her furniture, picturesSaturdays hostageagain she bumps into the                       emptyspaces...

    REMEMBERING CAMUS by Reed Venrick

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    REMEMBERING CAMUS by Reed Venrick  Circles of the Sea The Eye was the first circle(Emerson) Those last days of summer,...

    FOUR POEMS by John Casey

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    Perfect Day Leaves dancing, rustlingDelicately caressedBy the soft breezeA whispered wind song Patches of sun, dartingBreak through branchesCascade and collideIn prismatic collageOn the forest floor