Afternoon of November 10, 2023

 

we were left with a petal and

empty cider bottles as a souvenir

autumn has never been

so forgotten before

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

the ant

under my

feet

taught me

to be small

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

no one will ask the foliage

about green silence

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

the cage asked the bird

and received no answer

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

tigers in the zoo:

no one sees how

the meat is prepared for them

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

Steak Gone Rogue!

mammal's vital organ

meaty, dark, reddish-brown

On. a. plate. Fried.

eyes, revolted

nose, offended

taste buds, assaulted

mouth, with soap, relieved

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

windy day –

braids of garlic

on a crowded bus

~Bonnie J Scherer

a puppy using geomancy to find the bone

~Elliot Diamond

no-see-um bugs I see-um

~Sharon Ferrante

my many faces in a gnat cloud

~Sharon Ferrante

during your vows

teeth lined your sleeves

some large, some small

the guests would weep

to hear the gnashing

~Richard Magahiz

God's seraph

each feather

iridescent paper

~Richard Magahiz

by the fridge

tilted columns

of stacked vertebrae

~Richard Magahiz

Trivia Bliss


I thought I knew everything


there was to know about the Beatles,


and then I read on the internet


John Lennon’s first childhood cat was named Elvis.


Lennon loved cats, the factoid said,


and I love Lennon more for that.

~Charles Rammelkamp

Laugh and cry

One's his fault

The other has no blame

I just can't help it

Love's not as easy

as they make it look on TV

~G. Lynn Brown

urban forest

grandest fir-faux

cell tower

~JL Huffman

soap bubbles

riding wind currents

out of sight

~Richard Bailly

Winter rain feels nothing

but I am getting frostbit

writing cold haiku.

~Noah Berlatsky

The Seagull’s 135^th Seguidilla

 

You must know a gull who says,

For reasons unknown,

The sky’s glue. Some believe it,

Never knowing dawn.

How many songbirds

Sing as if the sky is glue?

Something like two-thirds.

~Jake Sheff

The Seagull’s 242^nd Seguidilla

 

The fierce continuity

Between the slag-heap

Of dead gull ideas and now

Would make a stag leap.

Ideas like postcards

Floating on the sea to be

Read by the Coast Guard.

~Jake Sheff

Afternoon of November 8, 2023

aches and pains

the subtle differences

between snowflakes

~Robert Witmer

always that one guy asleep on the train

folded in half

~Kathy Watts

Frosted

You think you are a chocolate cake you frosted for dessert. You think your sweet talk more than pays for all the times

I paid your bills and offered you free rent. You expect me to pay the tab when we go out to eat. You never leave a tip. I

have a tip for you, my dear. You are just a frosted flake, and you’re not worth the milk to flush you down my throat and

out the other end.

~Nolcha Fox

a bonbon

on my lifeline

time will tell

~Robert Witmer

odds and ends

the grotesque handles

on the coffin of my dreams

~Robert Witmer

I Don’t Understand

Explain to me this transition from life to death, this nakedness of being between a last sip of coffee and a chiseled

stiff in a coffin, soon to be forgotten. Perhaps this is a last split millisecond to practice the fine art of nothing, a last

whoop where we swing over a chasm of whitewater before we fall. We fall. Without understanding.

~Nolcha Fox

a stranded salmon

its mouth opens and closes

…the fear of speaking out

~Wanda Amos

inside

the huge fish

his wife's ring

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

limp chocolate dashboard rundown

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

skeleton dance

his bony hands

creep lower

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

long skeletal branch

stretches deep into autumn woods

swallowed in darkness

~Steve Van Allen

millions of sperm

seeking one egg

new moon

~Wanda Amos

Today I am perfect

For I have done nothing but lie in bed

~Sam Kilkenny

too deep for crows feet

must be

ravens feet

~Kathy Watts

my life

moving into the slow lane…

my smart car

commends me

for my eco driving

~Wanda Amos

vector analysis

a misplaced mosquito

in the palm of my hand

~Robert Witmer

Morning of November 5, 2023

 

  gentle breeze blows

cold upon my neck–

stepping through a ghost

~Jennifer Gurney

under garage door

is guy trapped half-in

or half-out

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the song was sung long ago

the echo still remains

of voices faint and far off

I do not know the words

~Ann Christine Tabaka

searching for your heart in the hayloft

~Patricia Hawkhead

trembling time wound tight enough to show, don’t tell

~Mark Gilbert

two in the morning

I am awake

I must write

three in the afternoon

I am drained

the ink ran dry

~Ann Christine Tabaka

glistening temptation

I drink from the source

with cupped hands

my muse

played by an actress

~Mark Gilbert

the trees are barren–

reminding me

of me

~Jennifer Gurney

Boredom

 

The man,

bored with

life, drooped like

a wilting flower

unwatered and left to dry out

on a windowsill, blinds drawn in lunar eclipse.

~Steve Gerson

Autumn, will you stop?

The leaves fall; the clock turns back.

But the leaves still fall.

~Noah Berlatsky

superhero

fly in

give the presentation

take questions

have a beer

fly out

~Mark Gilbert

clouds stately & silent

my migraine

squirming & slithery

~Mark Gilbert

Our Pushcart Prize Nominations for Poetry

Pushcart Prize Poetry Nominations

from Five Fleas Itchy Poetry (Poems published during 2023)

I’m a Mural by Jay Passer

 

Baby Dalí by Kelly Moyer

 

Fairy Tales by Gabriel Bates

Sing Gone by Nolcha Fox

49 Cents Change by Keith Snow

Untitled (first line at least two years) by Patrick Sweeney

 

 

Afternoon of October 31, 2023

creeping sepia

the hint of forbidden sea

in the forest

~Alan Summers

my beloved dog

alive and young again

on a VHS tape

~John J. Dunphy

Darkness within

Darkness without

Darkness all about,

 I am afraid of the dark.

~Shirley Smothers

sundown

a

shot

glass

window

sighs

~Alan Summers

the rain in another life’s beer

~Alan Summers

pregnant trees

merciless pecking birds

half-eaten lychee

~Bhawana Upadhyay

offering

a second opinion

mood ring

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the snow drifting Pissarro’s painting shadows mostly red

~Alan Summers

Moses recommended

taking the tablets

because they’d be good for us.

~Tony Dawson

Tony Dawson said to Descartes:

“Thinking outside the box

is the very definition of being alive.”

~Tony Dawson

almost 10 quintillion insects on Earth at all times maintain radio silence

~Alan Summers

Evening of October 30, 2023

splendor

found in lacquered tears

dynasties

~Alfred Booth

now is the allegory of the cell phone

~Patrick Sweeney

day of the 

                my phone dead

~John J. Dunphy

letting go of fear

                         I step out of

                                                    the plane

~Jennifer Gurney

rabbit hole jammed with Alices

~Patrick Sweeney

Carpet

 

When we

pull apart from

each other

there is a rip –

we are carpet.

~Ryan Quinn Flanagan

the punctuality of dread

~Patrick Sweeney

my Halloween senryu barebones

~John J. Dunphy

not one complaint from the dragonfly swarm

~Patrick Sweeney

letting go of

those voices in my head

saying I can't

~Jennifer Gurney

solving the coagulating mystery of my grandfather's styptic pencil

~Patrick Sweeney

Tolstoy's War and Peace–

thirteen hundred ninety two

pages of advice

~Jennifer Gurney

Afternoon of October 28, 2023

I’ve read and studied

but still I cannot fathom

how a zipper works

~James Penha

the living dead

offer me leftovers

—a middle finger

all I wanted

was a Kit Kat

~Sharon Ferrante

If the Day Was a Zebra

A zebra day is no-frills simple, choices are black and white, no gray. Boundaries are defined. I

start here. You start there. I’m always a vegetarian on a zebra day. There is no latest diet fad. I

know my herd, I know where I belong on a zebra day. And mine know me. I know my enemies

on a zebra day. I know I can run or fight. I don’t need to ask my therapist what to do. I don’t

need therapy. I am what you see. Take it or leave it.

~Nolcha Fox

adrift down the stream of consciousness without a paddle

~Mark Meyer

between two slices of rye death poem

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the bloody truth I cut myself on Occam's razor

~Mark Meyer

one footprint by the shallow grave

~Elliot Diamond

critique of pure reason a fruitful dialectic with a fruit fly

~Mark Meyer

Fleas in the morning lie dormant – rouse in afternoon autumn sun

~Julie A. Dickson

nothingness for dummies two-hundred-six pages of nada

~Mark Meyer

bargain basement clearance a mixed bag of overused emotions

~Mark Meyer

divorce final

I add more pineapple

to the pizza

~Sharon Ferrante

A Götterdämmerung Vibe

 

“Look at those people. Hammering in the windows,

scaling the walls of the Capitol.”

“And that noose! The one meant for Pence.”

“The dude hanging from a balcony in the Senate chamber.”

“The guy with the painted face and horned helmet.”

“All egged on by the sore loser. Amazing.”

“Twilight of the gods.”

“Wagner would have killed for this story.

And by ‘Wagner’ I mean the Russian mercenaries.”

~Charles Rammelkamp

deadly nightshade

I water everything

beyond the gate

even poison

has a whisper

when it drips

~Sharon Ferrante

Outsider Art

I am a found object,

claimed at the roadside

on your journey

toward the afterlife.

What shall we create

of such good fortune

but a world

where our lonesome,

tethered souls

can, at last, be free?

~Kelly Moyer

Morning of October 23, 2023

Shortest Childhood Poem Ever Written

 

I have

nothing to say

about my childhood,

 

except I am glad

it is over, and

 

I never need

to experience it

again.

~Leah Mueller

what lies

in the human heart—

silent truth

~Jennifer Gurney

Apocalypse Love Quatrain

 

Let the continents implode

around us, we’ll die with

our hands on the Insta-Pot

making black beans for dinner.

~Leah Mueller

my favorite clothes—

the ones that

once held you

~Jennifer Gurney

overcoming our differences how many syllables in aluminum

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

old stump

crumbling to dirt

some mornings I feel like you

(this is one of those days)

~Steve Van Allen

dream currents

floating downstream in my dream the water pulls my head I feel the currents in my hair and I

don’t resist I let it pull me backwards away from the land away from my anchor my hands

stretched behind me the currents tug on my arms and I don’t know what direction I am going

it’s dusk and the air has no temperature I am weightless like the air it knows where I need to be

and I trust it to take me there I forget about everything and allow myself to let go forever

~Leah Mueller

Here Comes the Flood

the river outside

rises out of my control

 

so you rise, too,

and overtake

another innocent trailer park

somewhere else

~Laura Grant

Evening of October 21, 2023

warplanes roar —

between the gap

the buzz of escape

~Chittaluri Satyanarayana

The Social Contract Theory of Haunting

Haunt my other mood, Goodness.

Haunt the dark side of the pool, Moon.

Tonight ghosts desire silence played in loops,

fireflies patch a pale pigment together

midst the sink of moonlight.

Haunt my melancholy, Coffee beans, albeit

I possess no power to roast, grind or brew.

~Kushal Poddar

tapped for lines

 

i do not belong

to a recognizable

 

religious group

 

yet strongly believe

confession is important

 

when recommending a good beer.

~Geoffrey Aitken

drowning sorrow

hazelnut

in empty glass

~Richard Bailly

September 23, 2022

Campaign season:

the candidates seemed smart enough for office,

though not intelligent enough to have a real job

~Michael Ceraolo

(from a series titled September Scenes)

September 15, 2022

Out of Order:

the bureaucrat responded to the update

before he responded to the original email

~Michael Ceraolo

(from a series titled September Scenes)

compost pile

for mental health

the library

~Richard Bailly