from the voice
within my mind
cuckoo song
~albert schlaht
Cold Comfort
My skeleton, Bob
But three jumpers on,
He said it was just the job,
Now that all his flesh has gone.
~Bernard Pearson
the donkey tethered
to it's shadow
coast road
~Gareth Nurden
heat lightning bugs
~Ed Bremson, MFA
insomnia
I hear stars whirling
in the dark
~Marie C Lecrivain
April shower
an intermission
between conflicts
~Marie C Lecrivain
capsized boat
her arms still wrapped around
the child
~Debarati Sen
inspiration
is everywhere
when you open your eyes
and see
that it is not very inspiring
~Noah Berlatsky
cloud forest
the woolly monkey's
thumbs like ours
~Ruth Holzer
world in flames watching a movie
~Ruth Holzer
Out back
in the back
lot of a
closed-down
studio
he found
some
moving
pictures.
~Mark Young
This poem is a note on this poem
She found it unicorned inside the
hiding-place of those animals
that did not make it onto the Ark.
~Mark Young
THE LATE, VERY GREAT MOLLY LUFT
(b. 3/19/1944, d. 11/24/2010)
Have you, pray tell, ever heard of Molly Luft
Who passed last November twenty-fourth?
Widely hailed as "Germany's fattest whore,"
A heroic figure, renowned in Teutonic lore,
Treasured icon of trash TV and other media --
This was Molly, according to Wikipedia.
She weighed one hundred-eighty kilo in her prime
And, sad to say, she died well before her time
Because, though she was nicely toned and buffed,
There was just too much Molly…and too little Luft.
~Elliot Wilner
his shuffle
fermented
by aging
~Ingrid Bruck
all the hills
surrounding my native village
ravaged by landslides——
even after I wake up
my limbs tremble
~Tejendra Sherchan
Books
The house came into the dream.
The walls of book, floor of book,
my uncle complaining about a burning
furore in his chest and I said, "Find
the right book, the one you have been
seeking, remove it from the pile,
and the structure will collapse"
That would have released the house, him,
and tonight I might have a blank dream.
~Kushal Poddar
I don’t want it to be fine
Because fine is not enough
~jon vlahos
scrapyard
the fallen ones
still burning
~Joanna Ashwell
even an ellipsis can’t save us … dawn
~Joanna Ashwell
penny lane
no room here
for inflation
~Joanna Ashwell
stuck again
the glue
of thought
~M. R. Pelletier
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