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