Morning of July 25, 2024

Llama getting ready for her book tour

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

 

 

rising

from the dead

banana bread

~Biswajit Mishra




Where does an assassin go?


Where does an assassin go?

Time is too timid to answer.

~Partha Sarkar




Captain Vibrato


You sailed on ships of light

beyond our wisps of stars.

Sent us postcards

filled with trembling trees

and all your mad fragility

that pled wish you were here.

They were postmarked immortality.

~dan smith




my open mouth

in a dentist’s chair

a nearby fly

rubs its antennae

~Arvinder Kaur




the flashing antennae—

a hiding cockroach behind

toilet flush

~Tejendra Sherchan




thefireflylessnessofdarknesswithin

~Arvinder Kaur




chewing Mona Lisa artsy cannibal ants

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




the moon had no craters,

the sun had no sunspots,

Neptune & Uranus were not planets

a time when telescopes were not invented

~Fhen M.




The sun says


The grey matter of a human's brain.

(We are proud of it!)

And "it is bright but dead"

Very often the sun says.

~Partha Sarkar



IVF clinic —

this feeling

of not being enough

~Debarati Sen




paradise 1


let's imagine that paradise does exist

let's imagine that, after having served my time in purgatory,

I could get into paradise

will I come across the old troublemakers again?

~Marie Derley




paradise 4


are we laughing in heaven?

(if not, I'm not going)

(same goes for the Wi-Fi)

~Marie Derley




the aging magician's mind

now playing tricks — on him

~John J. Dunphy

 

 

 

 





Five Fleas swag:

https://www.zazzle.com/store/five_fleas

 

Afternoon of July 22, 2024

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tapped

~Kelly Moyer 

Photography available here






lunch ladies purging communists at the kindergarten table

~Patrick Sweeney




dead drop nurse’s clumsy response

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




Angelus bells vibrating the amalgams in my molars

~Patrick Sweeney




shuffle of neurons larval memories

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




summer breeze

ruffles its feathers—

lifeless pigeon

~Neena Singh




pausing

our argument…a flea

in the dog’s ear

~Neena Singh




all night rain

the driveway flooded

with earthworms

~Neena Singh




spring noon

a grasshopper and I

talk of yesteryear

~Debarati Sen




he's talking to himself...

he either has too much money in the bank

or none at all

~Patrick Sweeney




morning glory

creeps even over the road…

worm-eaten petals

~Tejendra Sherchan




silent spell

clear night’s moon

seeing the light

life becomes you

ash and dust

~Oana Maria Cercel




night sky...

so many

bedbugs

roaming freely

in my poems

~Ana Drobot




windy day...

all over around me

change

~Ana Drobot




Amusement Park


From the darkroom

Red roller

             coaster

middle of the dark tunnel,

Black, rusted seat belts locked,

Side rocks dented

The leg and roller iron down

My strong deep black belt

I hollow

Rusty tickets

~JK Kim




toppled chairs

around a dinner table

war ruins

~Stephanie Zepherelli




Instability



The brain itself is not a muscle

If you never bothered

Its ok to not be ok

It’s a selfie obsession

~Pei-Chen Ng




kindred spirits

resting against each other

tombstones

~Stephanie Zepherelli

 


 

 




 

Afternoon of July 21, 2024

                                                 Crawdaddy 

                                                ~Kelly Moyer

                                               
Photography available here




rocky raccoon masking behavior

~Jerome Berglund




dragon lady

afloat in the deep end

raccoon mascara

~Randy Brooks




plenty of fish . . .

wash ashore

in the heatwave

~Kimberly Kuchar




raining men

raining apples

in a surrealistic realm

~Fhen M.




Life of Mom


On the fridge

I taped

a drawing

a house, a sun,

blue skies

Keep practicing”

I said to her

I’ll help you

~Katie Hong




I can’t stop crying

but then—

chocolate mousse

~Sharon Ferrante




Tears


Tears are not the dishes

of diplomacy

but melancholic chirps

of a solitary nightingale.

~O.P. Jha




Life’s theatre —

We enter

Hit our marks

Say our lines

Exit on cue

 

No rehearsal

No applause

No encore

 

Reviews will

Always be mixed

~Pam Makin




Light

Night

A road that leads

To new ways

New days

 

Dawn is somewhere

Beyond darkness

 

And I am alone

 

Ranting

 

Like a prophet

~Pam Makin




etiquette blogger

so thoughtless

as a corpse

~John J. Dunphy




opening window wide

a deep breath of fresh

chemical reactions

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




Orange as Ever


Gone with the wind

As all things should

The orange evening fades violet

As the leaves bristle in surprise

Life passes by


Cradled back and forth with the meshing seasons

Left in a tepid cycle

But as long as it is orange,

It’s fine.

~David Kim




Lost in Blue


Remember life

You used to be so blue

Satisfied if I play along

First embrace I shared with you

Above us, only sky

I can paint the world

It was all just make believe

~Jian Yeo




grandpa recites

a poem from Lord Byron

milking a cow

~Randy Brooks




ragout

on the polenta

no crosstalk

~Jerome Berglund




A Very Serious Gallery

 

The sign outside says

you are not welcome

if you are a Bon Jovi fan.

 

I will admit

I don’t like Bon Jovi much.

But now I wish I did.

~Noah Berlatsky




carnival rings

the various colours

of happiness

~Mona Bedi




kicking pad—

the karate kids

kick rain

~Tejendra Sherchan




grove stream—

quickens its gurgle

finding the slope

~Tejendra Sherchan




Just relax” they said

Go with the flow”

But they couldn’t hear the roar

of the waterfall inside my head

~Pam Makin




everything we see hides another thing,

we always want to see

what is hidden by what we see

~Fhen M.

 


Afternoon of July 19, 2024

 

 

 

 

Demitasse

~Dennis Andrew Aguinaldo




 

 

 

 

 

the wood sucker...

craftily clamping itself on

crawls up a tree

~Tejendra Sherchan




stink

stank

skunk

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




rotting log

the professor’s list

of exhausted forms

~John Pappas




some rotting turnip

the wireworm

counts the hours

~Richard Magahiz




ninety foot tulip

a pre-fab home

in its shade

~Richard Magahiz




just 2% pregnant

the ka rushes

back in

~Richard Magahiz




everything those souls

said, thought, did -

Gone. Gone. Gone.

~Richard Magahiz




"Cooking for One"

I add a book to

my divorce gift registry

~John J. Dunphy




without my glasses

can’t find the glasses I dropped

till I step on them

~James Penha




Spirit Walk


he steps out

as I step in

no one in the house

no one on the street

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




asking me

what’s in your womb

politicians

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




seijaku

seeking renewal

in silence

~Olinda Ninolakis




out of our jurisdiction shooting stars

~John Pappas




you’ll find me in fiction dusking snow

~John Pappas




back after these messages assassination nation

~John Pappas



Afternoon of July 15, 2024

 

Behind the colourful city

~Ah-young Dana Park



Geese line

the volleyball

sand pit.

They are

starting

their weekend

ahead of

schedule.

~Beth Gulley




the monsoon rain

resurrects a dry river—

giant snake

~Tejendra Sherchan




wherever

there is riversong

I am not alone

~Jennifer Gurney




assassination attempt

sniper and photographer

both shooting

~John J. Dunphy




the Wu Wei of showing a fly the door

~Patrick Sweeney




we were only told to stay off the third rail

~Patrick Sweeney




I and I by and by one world

~dan smith




he had the wrong head for this century

~Patrick Sweeney




And at last


And at last,

At the end of the play,

The small fries are killed.

~Partha Sarkar



circling between buildings

the hawk swoops

a white plastic bag

~Padma Rajeswari Tata




there were many golden bracelets & robes

purple-perfumed, ornate trinkets

before they turned to war trophies

~Fhen M.




A signal far from the soul


The stagnancy in the afternoon.

No positive human touch in the journey.

I listen only to the birds, the rustling

And a signal far from the soul

A green flute played by the tree.


Move on my brightest thoughts towards the evening.


A night with the fairytale lulls me to sleep


I am prepared to run tomorrow.

~Partha Sarkar




My Pigeon Feet


are moved by pain and joy.

Damp soils cake the yard

as paled bones extend past vines –

growing, searching, feeling.

They feel the warmth of the doormat,

resting their soles under blankets of wood.

Nails kneading away at the intricate texture,

My pigeon feet prance around in butterfly steps.

As Grandmother likes to call them,

loving, searching, feeling.

~Sigrid Kim




he was the kind of guy who felt the pains of the world coming up through the soles of his Hush Puppies

~Patrick Sweeney




he showed off his new crown in the middle of the fish fry

~Patrick Sweeney




child's art

on her father's car

screwdriver markings

~Tuyet Van Do



the Pompeii fresco could be any poet

the pixelated boy could be me

reminiscing what was beautiful & pure.

~Fhen M.




Diversity in One

~Ah-young Dana Park