Morning of November 24, 2023

 when she's around you half expect a yellow canary to fly into the room

~Patrick Sweeney

mermaid 

they called me mermaid 

because i answered

the call of the sea,

but they never heard her;

i guess that's why 

they don't understand

my depths.

~linda m. crate 

ultrasound

my inner world

on the display screen

~Arvinder Kaur

coping with cancer —

the nail polish brighter

than last time

~Rupa Anand

too much

i was always told i

was too much by 

people who i thought

could be more,

if you should ask me

the only thing there's too much

of is: bombs, genocides, wars,

cruelty, malice, indifference, and greed.

~linda m. crate 

until they crawl in next to you   the sorrows of the world

~Patrick Sweeney

ravages of war

the straight face

of AI anchor

~Arvinder Kaur

autumn sky —

this desire to return

to the womb

~Debarati Sen

no money in poetry

no poetry in money

this is not a poem

nor money neither

~Noah Berlatsky

dark river

an oar scoops dead fish

in its spoon

~Rupa Anand

goddess 

you thought yourself

a god who could

mold me into your image,

you were surprised

to find i was a goddess

who could sculpt myself

into whatever image that suited me.

~linda m. crate  

dowry demands —

dad curses the day

I was born

~Debarati Sen

Smile

Body language continues our argument.

Uber guy says, “You ladies should smile more,

pretty girls like you.”

“What about the uglies─ should they smile, too?”

My sister sits up perpendicular, bares her teeth and growls.

The driver crashes into a STOP sign, slurring the word “Stop”

as if it too is skidding.

~Cheryl Snell

she doesn't want me to throw away the small pieces of soap

~Patrick Sweeney

moon shadow cognitive dissonance
~Jennifer Gurney

the inner jewelry of old telephone wires

~Patrick Sweeney

on the other side of sadness anger

~Jennifer Gurney

kissing the piggy that had roast beef

~Patrick Sweeney

I remind the moon

and all to wear a mask—

covid is waxing

~James Penha

solar noon

the donkey claims the win

for himself

~Françoise Maurice

stillness

in the room

even silence has a sound

~B. L. Bruce

Afternoon of November 20, 2023

 knot know now know now not

~J. D. Nelson

snowy rehearsal dinner eve we all get cold feet

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

5 am

our snow angel struck by

a thrown newspaper

~John J. Dunphy

Sky High

After first light

before sun rise

I tell Timothy,

my Uber driver.

There's only one planet

visible, probably Venus.

He tells me his electric

bill is super expensive

from the brand new provider,

Constellation.

~Keith Snow

kings in the corner

shuffling, dealing, playing

red on black on red

~Jennifer Gurney

The solidity and concretude

of this frigid block of material

prompts me to ponder

the liquidity and lightness

of this aerial being of flakes

each intricate and distinct

from the next and all others

designed to make me think

of an ethereal alternative

to the prescribed dosage.

~Charles A. Perrone

I Wish…

I had a poem braising

in the slow cooker,

with yellow potatoes

and the last carrots.

A savory one,

that would warm me

internally and leave me

sated.

~Keith Snow

silver moth hands we are in the stomach

~J. D. Nelson

The Fate of a Gate

 

They left the gate open for us so we

could reach the space of the dialed device

to weigh the bag of options the farm offered

They surely must have known of our ignorance

of scales and hooks and all their close relatives

and most likely anticipated the cool mark of zero

the hanging machine would inevitably register to

provoke our blue feelings of lack and emptiness

and disappointment for the loss of opportunity

to live green and reside there in bucolic bliss

~Charles A. Perrone

PERI WINKLES

Purple people eaters wear blue suede shoes.

Blue skies turn from purple haze.

Purple rain soaks the blue jays and a blue bird.

A purple patch cured his blues.

The true blue have received purple hearts!

~Keith Snow

fluoride crayon mirrored zine library

~J. D. Nelson

 

 

Announcement soon: Touchstone Poetry Award nominees from Five Fleas Itchy Poetry!

Afternoon of November 18, 2023

 I divorce you, time change.

You disturb my sleep. Go away.

And take your light with you.

~Nolcha Fox

settling the score semi-precious library dust

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

lashed together shoes tripping into an old you

~Richard L. Matta

I dream healthy wake in hospice

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

seven years

in a taxicab backseat

writing that song

~Mike Fainzilber

Poetry is an assignment.

Write every day till joy drains out

and you’re left with words

like “assignment.”

~Noah Berlatsky

tonight i stare at screens, flipping

like a cat’s tail, impatient

eyes and brain blurred, but not a fog

to be swept away by an afternoon wind

fearing sleep, the potential for unwanted

ugliness

the taunting leer of loneliness

ghost pains of parts of me not yet killed

i am four years old again

holding a night light to every corner

~Alfred Booth

The Search

so many tupperwares

jammed into this fridge

where is the best

part of you?

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

pico de gallo

extra cilantro…

hold the soap

~Stephen J. DeGuire

first cold November rain

trees bleed color,

i collect wet leaves, they stain my fingers yellow

~Steve Van Allen

taxi driver’s advice

never ever argue

with the perfect people

~Mike Fainzilber

chopping board

as if the pink slip

were onion

~Richard L. Matta

The dog was upset when I woke her up.

She locked me out of the house

and drank my coffee.

~Nolcha Fox

ancient well...

her counterfeit coin

never plinks

~Richard L. Matta

goodbyes said

without a tear

walking into the sunset

the story ends

~Ann Christine Tabaka

Afternoon of November 17, 2023

 

  discussing society’s expectations Pringle’s can

~Joshua St. Claire

thoughts of you wake so much earlier than I do

~Sharon Ferrante

in the morning not knowing who you are

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

daydream—

I tap the shoulder

of who I become

~Sharon Ferrante

this river

won’t see me

too many leaves

floating

over my reflection

~Sharon Ferrante

from one emptiness

to another—

falling star

~John Pappas

ignoring

the police tape

ladybugs

~John Pappas

waiting room

we silently watch

reruns of cheers

~John Pappas

first dream

I fill a winter page

with crows

~John Pappas

dwindling light

I swallow the lies

 told by mother

~Rowan Beckett

now with a new and improved formula

                              mock orange

~Joshua St. Claire

the careful curation

of his only bookshelf

Zoom meeting

~Joshua St. Claire

dead mall

a killdeer leads me away

from broken asphalt

~Joshua St. Claire

when the word

is silence

we dare not

repeat

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

zen

of paper moons

hole puncher

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

flea market

a vintage six-string

with only four

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

crumpled white papers yet the canary in the cage still sings

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

2 a.m. reading a neighborhood dog sleepless too

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

pandas on a plane bamboo diplomacy

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

fireflies in a jar burying my never-child

~Rowan Beckett

wish splitting a bone enters between the fates

~Rowan Beckett

d)us(t

~Rowan Beckett

treading water the deep end of august

~John Pappas

anxiety filling the sky with swallows everything

~John Pappas

Morning of November 15, 2023

 

it was then that I realized her family didn't shout obscenities at the television screen

~Patrick Sweeney

using the excuse of not wanting to waste their time to circumvent their wasting of mine

~Patrick Sweeney

embarrassment


the wind is blowing

embarrassment through

the trees. see their leaves

blush red as they realize

i am watching them

dance naked and free.

~C.W. Bryan

Sunset; what to say?

The neon flashes brighter.

Tacos now, and nothing else.

~Noah Berlatsky

wow's as good a prayer as any

~Patrick Sweeney

rusty old pick-up line

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

back then I always left the wolf out of the story

~Patrick Sweeney

in from the medieval darkness   trash day

~Patrick Sweeney

food coloring slush fund

~Jerome Berglund

people who say hello to those no one else will

~Patrick Sweeney

who is owner running the microchip

~Jerome Berglund

 

 

we consult

our medical alert bracelets

for what ails us

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

the excruciating details he puts into the stories he tells that nobody wants to hear

~Patrick Sweeney

airport layover selfies with strangers

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

fourteen dollars

flushed down the toilet–

airport chicken sandwich

~Jennifer Gurney

salting the steps

vote of

no confidence

~Jerome Berglund

bath bomb a war on dirt

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

finger puppet

on barrel of a rifle

fireside chats

~Jerome Berglund

~entering black hole

spaghettification, but

some sauce would be nice

~Jean-Paul L. Garnier

revived dinosaur

displeased with this oxygen

tries to roar but can't

~Jean-Paul L. Garnier

Afternoon of November 13, 2023

the sky is falling . . .

we all just stand there

watching

~Kimberly Kuchar

R.I.P.

written in chalk

on the sidewalk

where for months

a panhandler stood

~John J. Dunphy

the way he pours wine unsaid conversations

~Mona Bedi

dying alone phone

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the safety of a quilt this depression

~Mona Bedi

killed without trial stink bug in toaster

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

measuring scale —

how fragile

this life balance 

~Mona Bedi

thrift shop

unkempt man

offers to trade

his Purple Heart

for a blanket

~John J. Dunphy

summer's end

autumn turns red

with war

~Kimberly Kuchar

bombed fields —

a farmer reaps

emptiness

~Mona Bedi