By Carol Lynn Pearson YEARS AGO WHEN my husband Gerald and I made the outrageous decision to self-publish my poems, I wrote this simple piece that became the title poem of one of the books: A WIDENING VIEW When my eye first opened Behind the viewfinder, There, in closeup, Was a flower— The only …
Tag: poetry
Heron on Ice: Poetry
By Lyn Lifshin Pale salmon light, 9 degrees. Floor tiles icy. Past branches the beaver’s gnawed at the small hole the heron waits, deep in the water. Sky goes apricot, tangerine, rose. Suddenly, a dive, then the heron with sun squirming in his mouth, a carp that looks a third as …
Since 9/11: Poetry
By Anita Tanner I hear them overhead— jets’ Doppler motors, small thunders sucking up sectors of sky. I pause, listening for their reassurance, flight paths going somewhere and returning in crisscross pattern thrumming across the blue beyond. My body vibrates with the faint knocking of photos on the wall, blood pulsing in my temples, …
Cell Mates: Poetry
By Paul Swenson Called to hold the keys of mysteries. Yet both, at 34, were locked away; Joseph jailed at Liberty, dropped through a hole in prison floor into the pit. In Birmingham, Martin declared: Where there is injustice, I am there, and it would not be fair of me to spurn …
Bulletin From Vojvodina: Poetry
By Slobodanka Strauss ambition has left the streets cruelty has taken a seat benches curve from the sittings a song at dawn from the mourning dove the rooster calling the half living in broken homes on a day of sun roses erupting with desire the slow passing of minutes dragging grief on the …
In the Wrong Hands: Poetry
By Jordan Marshall-Pinegar Don’t give it away, whatever it is, to the wrong person. Because when you see it in their hands it will look different and somehow you’ll be sorry you let them hold it, whatever it is: The way you felt that day on the subway when the man with his son …
Repeat: Poetry
By Norman Nathan If for a day or one more lifetime every grave relented, and here in this cemetery of genius all arose, ready to return to what they did best, a hundred conductors would wave their batons each demanding to lead the orchestra; and who, among the multitude of soloists, would sing in …
After the Visit: Poetry
By Lin Lifshin flat blue hills yellow light. November in the old house. The walls pull from the floor, she barely knows me or my voice. Stained Chinese carpet. My grandmother wrapped in blue sheets on the chair where her old man sat and stopped her from singing 60 …
Poem: Are You Like George Price? Then
By Thomas Dorsett take the advice of an old man who has helped the poor yet knows he’d be swept away like a broken toy if he hadn’t held back a few coins: selfishness and altruism are the vegetables and Jesus of this world— If you want to survive, even thrive, savor these staples; …
Call Me Judas: Poetry
By Roger Cowin Call me Judas, a noose for a necktie, dangling from my tree of woe, I have wandered alone in the wilderness. forty years and forty months. son of the dead millennium. I have offered prayers with forked tongue, cast the first stone and took delight spitting in my neighbor’s eye. …