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