Poetry - Year VII - Number 50 - July 2021

THE SECOND DAY OFTHE SECOND DECADE The sun reappearsfrom behind the cloudsbeamijg into the narrow opening along the horizonto shine for a little whileon the face of the city.Then it setsand the sunset starts happening:colorful...

How We See “No telescope is more powerful than the prejudice of the person looking through it.”Kevin Ashton, How To Fly A Horse, 2015 The spider in your eye isbloodthe doctor says. A viscous(“vicious?”)membrane afloat in...

Among the Lotophagoi I ate lotus, (Full) Moon cakes,and yet the memory loss was onlythe expected fatigue of carbohydrate cells.Southern China was not Ogygia, what with the palms,mangos and the custardy miracle of durian. The young...

Heart-shaped Vase If my fragile heart should break,fill my ventricles with flowers;like bud vases for roses and peonies.That would please me. If my swollen heart should burst,adorn my head with a crown of blossoms;my love forgotten,...

Cardinal Sins One cardinal cheepsNear your sinful pane,Open in summer wind, Near your bedpost failingTo disentangle the white shirtOf the other man. You wearThe black boxers, not yours. One sweeping finger can shiftA paradigm, alter a filterThe...

A Little History Watching the river in flood,each exhale huffing over the one before,its red, swollen reality waking imagination. Dismembered tree limbs,water logged, sodden, submerging,re-emerging for encores of helplessness, tumbling in the roiling flow.A tire, worn and...

Only Stars When I look back,I always do itnot with a smile, but with astonishmenton my face. I remember the time,when I was little kid and thenthere still were old people who were from another...

Sea and Soil Poems Of thirteen minds I swim past Whale Rock.Cold air leeches warmth from rotating armsThat plunge into grey-green sea with each stroke.Turning my chin, I count, and count again. Their beaks all point north,...

TimeA fibonnaci poem TimeFadesIntoEternalWaves cascading inPools in which we are a pebble. A Rondel Poem When I do spy your lovely face,My heart leaps with joy,At your antics that are so coy.My pain leaves me without a...

Happiness Neo-pagans kneelBefore the spiritualityOf natural cycles,Then drive their SUVsTo Michael’s Craft StoreAnd buy decorationsFor the insideOf their cavesWhere dysfunction behavesLike a north starTo guideThe ritualsOf individualsInto cultural practicesSo unbreakableThey become unbearableAnd loseTheir purposeIn the...