Evening of March 5, 2024

Thought Experiment


the

chrome

clockwork

Buddha rose

trailing flowering

vines it took to the open road

how many miles to nirvana it asked all it met

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




The land that is behind me.

Walking to the corner shop

and back.

~Mark Gilbert




artificial rose—

her face conforms

to society's norms

~Mark Gilbert




hunger moon needing dough

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




hobo jungle midnight coyote howl

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




Dog Park Theology


The gate is open.

You can go in

if you are good.

~Noah Berlatsky




this

lump

below

my shoulder

a wire in my heart

in ancient days I'd be long dead

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




no longer suicidal

the 70-year-old now content

just to wait

~John J. Dunphy




human geography

searching

for the sweet spot

~Mark Gilbert


                                               

soaring above

our neighbors' MAGA flag
                                         

a rainbow kite

~John J. Dunphy




wharf is not a dock

wharves are not some landing strips

both are more mystery

~Charles A. Perrone




My Favorite Monster


Comes out only at night

Has glowing red eyes

Is 20 feet tall

(six meters)

Breathes radioactive fire

Only stomps Billy's house

And Ed's, a little bit

Never forgets Monster's Day at school

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




men with guitars

passing their emotions

thru an amp

~Mark Gilbert




happy next birthday”

he knows something

you don't

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




america,

artless

art

~Mark Gilbert




To Do List


Write a poem

~Noah Berlatsky

Afternoon of March 4, 2024

the humming

of stars

in Ursa major

~Linda L Ludwig




rumcake for breakfast / maybe inebriation / better two servings

~Charles A. Perrone




Gaudy ring

Confirms betrothed

Cuts glass and heart

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill




celebrating

chemical reactions

garage floor rags

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




one after the other

I call on the spirit

of my siblings

in heart and mind

they guide me

~Anne Curran




reviving the lost practice of gazing out windows

~Patrick Sweeney




remembering the chalk-sized yellow teeth of the ragman's horse

~Patrick Sweeney




the importance of prime numbers after we're gone

~Patrick Sweeney




another question with no real interest in an answer

~Patrick Sweeney




he seemed to always have hard rain on his roof

~Patrick Sweeney




The cow in the middle of a crowded road


The cow on a crowded road.

Rush by her the citizens of a moribund city.

The cow is in her pregnancy, ruminates indifferently

Ignoring them by thinking

As if the rushing skeletons do nothing but run to and fro

Without thinking why to rush and when to stop.

After a while she crosses the road leaving a message -


If they do not ruminate the future,

One there will be indigestion in development

And pride.

~Partha Sarkar




depression

the desire to give up

every dawn

~Leela Satyan




kintsugi

what coffee does

to my soul

~Leela Satyan




icicle

the agony of hanging

upside down

~Leela Satyan




An Indian Intellectual


The silent coffin with clamorous dead in the womb full of white fumes.

And all doors are open when

All round faces which were once flattened

Try to find out how many gamblers there are in the alleys of escapism

To sell the hollow backbone

And are very happy all dead of the world who

Burn skins with obscene conversation by chewing quids

and break the placid slumber of the lake


Yet none know how much responsible is for eczema the discount on body lotion.

~Partha Sarkar




so short so easy?

haiku writing in the moment

the juxtaposition

of a blank mind

with a white page

~Wanda Amos




this rusty heart

is closed

but never locked

~Wanda Amos

Afternoon of March 3, 2024

Postapocalyptic Rerun


Stone Age redux

Flintstones fans

get a Fred start

~John H. Dromey




Bread and Butter Logic


let a diner whose

manners are impeccable

cast the first scone

~John H. Dromey




Full Wheel on Display


blue moon

for limited time only

blue cheese

~John H. Dromey




I thought I was broken

like a pot with no handles.

I thought I was broken

like the sky spitting out birds.

I thought I was broken like

thoughts cracking open.

And in each shell a mandible.

And in each mandible a shard.

~Noah Berlatsky




Intimate venue?

Reading from wooden pallet

in a parking lot

~Keith Snow




Some count sheep to sleep

I was counting syllables

While I was sleeping

~Keith Snow




In my haiku dream

searching for seasonal words

 find thyme finally

~Keith Snow




switching off

airplane mode

time

to let the world

back in

~Nicola Schaum




swimming pool

I clean the death trap

bugs and butterflies

~Nicola Schaum




twisted ovary

like a lamb

to slaughter

hoping

for a miracle

~Nicola Schaum




he loves me. . .

                  running 

                          out 

                               of 

                                   petals

                                            ... not 

~Nicola Schaum




dark corners

I need a spider

to catch my flies

~Kimberly Kuchar




all along

my dreams were made of lead

Maltese Falcon

~Kimberly Kuchar

Afternoon of February 27, 2024


my continuous personal consciousness goes right on peeling potatoes

~Patrick Sweeney




I wish I was a butterfly

I'll grow wings when I die.


I wish that I was a phoenix

I'll rise again from cinder and ashes.


I wish I will live forever

forever young and forever fair.


but wishing stars fade, die

wishing stars fade and die.

~Fhen M.




in the frozen ground

a new grave waiting

to be fed

~Tom Blessing




pigeons

flying roof to roof

must be bored

~Tom Blessing




red banarasi

like sunshine

her acid-burnt face

~Debarati Sen



 

hail oh mountain wolves / do howl to your hearts' content / to tell us what is

~Charles A. Perrone



The twelve apostles rise

from the dead. Their job?

Drag bodies from Gaza

over the wall into Egypt.

When will the killing end,

they ask a wandering hippie ghost

singing about sunshine.

The sky turns black.

A cross appears,

holding a weeping man.

~Pris Campbell




isolating the war drums in his speech

~Patrick Sweeney




the people who didn't get there in time

~Patrick Sweeney




a pebble

in my niece's forehead

war hero

~Shasta Hatter




four crows stand

in the street

unmoved by cars

~Shasta Hatter




heavy with secrets

oh, how I long

to keep them

~Shasta Hatter




5G

the good doctor's

burner phone

~Kelly Moyer




twist of fate

a typo

in the tea leaves

~Kelly Moyer




he listened to both sides and served tea

~Patrick Sweeney




she was a smoker who every now and then wore a halo

~Patrick Sweeney