Afternoon of September 4, 2023

the perpetual vigilance of God's own worrywart

~Patrick Sweeney

corroded bones reducing me to rust

~Debbie Strange

the frugal argot of bricklayers at lunch

~Patrick Sweeney

gingerbread house crumbs on the carpet

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Hesse on the lips of the Braille reader

~Patrick Sweeney

where are philosophers supposed to park

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

AI winter : everything nothing but a memory

~Debbie Strange

AI mispronounces the town where people live

~Patrick Sweeney

buzzwording this deep dive into a cloud of fish

~Debbie Strange

room enough for bull frogs to breathe through their skin at the Oriental Market

~Patrick Sweeney

pleading guilty to defacing public restrooms with abstruse senryu

~Patrick Sweeney

hung with care jury

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

from out of nowhere

the grizzly bear

and a bicycle

~Debbie Strange

Afternoon of September 3, 2023

snow says goodbye to me

I am silent

I melt with

the snow

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in THE BIG WINDOWS REVIEW)

each time I strike a

match to light a candle

I remember

~Jennifer Gurney

Learned Advice

                         EXplore

               only the  PERImeter,

 and miss the inner    essENCE

               of it all.

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

No fleas in the morning

dormant ‘til sunny afternoon — guess they slept in today

~Julie A. Dickson

Morning or night, cat sits vigil on my window sill

~Julie A. Dickson

If I had a time machine

I would stop you

from putting diesel in the gas tank.

~Noah Berlatsky

"a final word of advice"

he tells me

for the fourth time

~John J. Dunphy

the Barbie movie —

such deep meaning

from molded plastic

~Jennifer Gurney

neighborhood crying

hand of anger

anger of the heart

weeping cities

^^ ^^ ^^

and these are birds

look over the heads of the war birds fly

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal)

aluminum birds

even they come back

from warm countries home

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in divot)

This poem smells blue

| | |

The color of wrinkles in the sky

¶

Black shapes in clear water

∆

This verse will be picked up by crows in the morning

And they will be thrown from heaven

On icy concrete heart rocks

~

All in vain

.

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in Stone Poetry Journal)

Evening of August 29, 2023

 

two snails

if they race each other

it doesn’t show

~Daniel Birnbaum

the cockroach

what we think of each other

perhaps the same

~Daniel Birnbaum

the tangerine

perhaps the last to call me

from childhood

~Daniel Birnbaum

raindrops are spitting

on the book where I’m writing

this now-wet haiku

~Jennifer Gurney

a door that never opens

sealed forever

by a family of spiders

~Steve Van Allen

early morning quake

deep sea 7.4—

the cradle does rock

~James Penha

I write this poem

composed by my shower mind

wrapped in a towel

~Jennifer Gurney

Barbie movie

sex bomb goes off

only egos injured

~Adele Evershed

second summer

finding mildew

in all my cracks

~Adele Evershed

scathing review

I pretend my poetry

was written by AI

~Adele Evershed

counting on the spiritual procrastination of the good thief

~Patrick Sweeney

stillness even when there are no deer on the trail

~Patrick Sweeney

who I was when I first tasted a ginger snap

~Patrick Sweeney

the pain of passing petoskey stones

~Adele Evershed

resting my elbow again on the tiger's back

~Patrick Sweeney

she told me I should be searching for shovel-tusked mastodons instead of snow fleas

~Patrick Sweeney

Morning of August 29, 2023

dead end saloon

four hungry ghosts

and a rat

~Sarah Paris

the dust on my writing desk Ambien fog

~Sarah Paris

light is the bow that

bounces on the singular

spider thread stretched thin

~Jennifer Gurney

you are the questions

that float into my mind when

I least expect them

~Jennifer Gurney

perseids all night

one after another

damn kidney stones

~Rex Lisman

banana moon comparing himself to a toucan

~Joshua St. Claire

State of New Jersey tax notice

two accountants discuss the meaning

of “Kafkaesque”

~Joshua St. Claire

11-dimensional spacetime

a grey squirrel navigates

power lines

~Joshua St. Claire

Möbius strip

oh, how careful you are

to consider my side

~Joshua St. Claire

we make of the moon what we make of the moon

~Joshua St. Claire

picket line

strikers use their signs for

rain shields

~John J. Dunphy

first day

on his new job

ex-Walmart greeter

says hello to

his union sisters and brothers

~John J. Dunphy

falling

through the sky of

her blue eyes

~Aaron Bowker

asleep under a

constellation of freckles

the smallest star

~Aaron Bowker

Afternoon of August 26, 2023

I find a treasure

in the pocket of the coat

you left behind

~Jennifer Gurney

my imaginary friend AI

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

heat is a blanket

follows me to bed

I keep throwing it off

~Steve Van Allen

daybreak

a new beginning

for the fruit fly

~Jennifer Gurney

coding

from beyond the grave

FORTRAN

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

midnight storm

bowling in the dark clouds

~Steve Van Allen

separated at birth identical scarecrows

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

death

dust bunnies

in her slippers

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

documentary

about 9/11

so many stairs......

Jennifer Gurney

Afternoon of August 25, 2023

summer’s end

my rat girl

playing possum

~Jean-Paul Moyer

Calgary morning

a Russian Blue examines

my toes

~Rupa Anand

saving me

from cold war demons

school desk

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

after the tornado

the hoe my neighbor borrowed

back in my yard

~John J. Dunphy

meditation —

a thousand petals

cross her soul

~Katherine E Winnick

all our secrets out there data breach

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

farewell dinner

end of his cheatwave

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Bible-thumper in the park

indifferent ducks

doomed to an eternity in hell

~John Grey

best of show Darwinian schnauzers

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

REGARDING MY NEED FOR SOLITUDE

 

Please don’t be offended

when I say,

“I wish

to be left alone.”

 

It just means

I want you around

so I can tell you this.

~John Grey

shooting stars...

the scent of nightshade

in your hair

~Katherine E Winnick

Afternoon of August 24, 2023

 

 crushed

between pages of her life

rose petals

~Stephanie Zepherelli

 bones

        rattling

   the hum

            of her

lawnmower

    mind

~Kelly Moyer

vanishing act

amateur magician

makes his audience disappear

one by one

through the exit

~John J. Dunphy

the coast is clear

. . . . erosion

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

I ignore

the old woman

in my mirror

~Linda L Ludwig

from a rooftop

she shouts

at her drowning

blue heart

yellow whispers

I got it

~Sharon Ferrante

inheriting the meek

a market

for plant-based ukuleles

~Kelly Moyer

giving blood the flea bites

~Sharon Ferrante

vineyard

tasting the stain

on his fingers

~Sharon Ferrante

accenting our love linguistic convergence

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

checking out

two books at a time

from the prison library

the convict serving

concurrent sentences

~John J. Dunphy

plastic from paper

sorting out

the great mystery

~Kelly Moyer