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