Morning of November 15, 2025

 

 

 

there again this morning

the retired racehorse in the meadow

~Patrick Sweeney

I eat tub after tub of sketchy blackberries

but will never write that well

~Nicholas De Marino

slipping

in and out of our lives

court rulings

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

economic depression

even Orion tightens

his belt


~Amber Winter

blustery day

turning my locks

into murder weapons

~Amber Winter

bouncing up

and down the escalator

tariffs

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

following stars

Australian Moth navigates

its way

~Tejendra Sherchan

recreating

once-celebrated works

AI

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

life has gotten easier since paper flowers

~Patrick Sweeney

expecting silk in a sip of mulberry wine

~Patrick Sweeney

cold fingers breaking the suction of my cup lava flow

~Amber Winter

buddhas never seem to need a leg to stand on

~Patrick Sweeney

when they tell you what the least of your worries should be

~Patrick Sweeney

Afternoon of November 13, 2025

record what I say

asleep     some are

old passwords

~Richard Magahiz

 

accumulations

of matter that's why

we date

~Richard Magahiz

climaxes

the first six orbits

then off for twelve

~Richard Magahiz

satin paramecium slippers

~Richard Magahiz

papa's whereabouts

just one thing

the twelfth Imam knew

~Richard Magahiz

geraniums

common sense is a flower

too often ignored

~Sarah Mahina Calvello

a monster

guzzling trees...

pooping buildings

in a drawing

i can't forget

~Pegah Rahmati Nezhad,

this obsession

to write my poetry

on the pebbles

while my world is busy

collecting treasures

~Tejendra Sherchan

door number three

all that’s left

of my choices

~Anne Fox

rising

against gravity

a conspiracy

of birdsong

~Anne Fox

universe

the poem I bring back

from the stars

~Anne Fox

power outage

I curl up

in the cat’s lap

~Anne Fox

friendsgiving

a hodgepodge of chairs

around the table

~Anne Fox

black friday

merchants set up tables

in the temple

~Anne Fox

snow moon

white poppy seed packets

taped to the fridge

~Anne Fox

sweet tea

she thickens her accent

for the audition

~Anne Fox

last call

she goes home with

the smell of smoke

~Anne Fox

they say

we are made of

stardust

~Tejendra Sherchan

'Luck up' in the coal mines...

and prayers for the souls of dragonflies

~Patrick Sweeney

the wind

answered

the leaf

~Patrick Sweeney

leaves are down:

the perching owl is now the white of a broken sycamore limb

~Patrick Sweeney

daily's entire page

detailing how some people

become noncitizens

~Tejendra Sherchan

woodpeckers

sound the alarm

holes in hollow men

~Robert Witmer

empty pockets

a fresh start

on the clothesline

~Robert Witmer

notes

for a climate plan

musical chairs

~Robert Witmer

memory

a tainted sample

of DNA

~Robert Witmer

wine

on the periodic table

a philosopher's stone

~Robert Witmer

'Every now and then, ' he said, 'I want to make a break for it'

~Patrick Sweeney

no eclectics in cults

~dan smith

soulmates, easier than finding shrinks


~Sarah Mahina Calvello

fuzzy slippers a hibernation starts

~Sarah Mahina Calvello

graduation photo her failed dreams in chiaroscuro

~Martina Matijević

Death is a room.


~Mykyta Ryzhykh

The iron of dreams. Erosion.

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

Morning of November 9, 2025

dream logic

how a sentence ends

in moss

~John Pappas

autumn’s end

the maple gives me

a parking ticket

~John Pappas

visiting

the land of the free

the anxiety

of crossing

a border

~Wanda Amos

 

bank loan

the river borrows back

from the sea

~Jiel Narvekar

as the country burns

Burger King eats KFC

his feast, our famine

~Patricia Carragon

filling the distance timelapse

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

falling leaves the silence of connotations

~Arvinder Kaur

must stop thinking of naps

as a dereliction of duty

~Patrick Sweeney

black hole in our galaxy statehood

~Tejendra Sherchan

learning to play everything

Al Hirt played somewhere

over the rainbow

~Randy Brooks

 

hamburger held open

I let her steal

my pickles

~Randy Brooks

home from swimming

the bathroom dance

for ear drops

~Randy Brooks