Afternoon of November 17, 2023

 

  discussing society’s expectations Pringle’s can

~Joshua St. Claire

thoughts of you wake so much earlier than I do

~Sharon Ferrante

in the morning not knowing who you are

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

daydream—

I tap the shoulder

of who I become

~Sharon Ferrante

this river

won’t see me

too many leaves

floating

over my reflection

~Sharon Ferrante

from one emptiness

to another—

falling star

~John Pappas

ignoring

the police tape

ladybugs

~John Pappas

waiting room

we silently watch

reruns of cheers

~John Pappas

first dream

I fill a winter page

with crows

~John Pappas

dwindling light

I swallow the lies

 told by mother

~Rowan Beckett

now with a new and improved formula

                              mock orange

~Joshua St. Claire

the careful curation

of his only bookshelf

Zoom meeting

~Joshua St. Claire

dead mall

a killdeer leads me away

from broken asphalt

~Joshua St. Claire

when the word

is silence

we dare not

repeat

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

zen

of paper moons

hole puncher

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

flea market

a vintage six-string

with only four

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

crumpled white papers yet the canary in the cage still sings

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

2 a.m. reading a neighborhood dog sleepless too

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

pandas on a plane bamboo diplomacy

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

fireflies in a jar burying my never-child

~Rowan Beckett

wish splitting a bone enters between the fates

~Rowan Beckett

d)us(t

~Rowan Beckett

treading water the deep end of august

~John Pappas

anxiety filling the sky with swallows everything

~John Pappas

Morning of November 15, 2023

 

it was then that I realized her family didn't shout obscenities at the television screen

~Patrick Sweeney

using the excuse of not wanting to waste their time to circumvent their wasting of mine

~Patrick Sweeney

embarrassment


the wind is blowing

embarrassment through

the trees. see their leaves

blush red as they realize

i am watching them

dance naked and free.

~C.W. Bryan

Sunset; what to say?

The neon flashes brighter.

Tacos now, and nothing else.

~Noah Berlatsky

wow's as good a prayer as any

~Patrick Sweeney

rusty old pick-up line

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

back then I always left the wolf out of the story

~Patrick Sweeney

in from the medieval darkness   trash day

~Patrick Sweeney

food coloring slush fund

~Jerome Berglund

people who say hello to those no one else will

~Patrick Sweeney

who is owner running the microchip

~Jerome Berglund

 

 

we consult

our medical alert bracelets

for what ails us

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

the excruciating details he puts into the stories he tells that nobody wants to hear

~Patrick Sweeney

airport layover selfies with strangers

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

fourteen dollars

flushed down the toilet–

airport chicken sandwich

~Jennifer Gurney

salting the steps

vote of

no confidence

~Jerome Berglund

bath bomb a war on dirt

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

finger puppet

on barrel of a rifle

fireside chats

~Jerome Berglund

~entering black hole

spaghettification, but

some sauce would be nice

~Jean-Paul L. Garnier

revived dinosaur

displeased with this oxygen

tries to roar but can't

~Jean-Paul L. Garnier

Afternoon of November 13, 2023

the sky is falling . . .

we all just stand there

watching

~Kimberly Kuchar

R.I.P.

written in chalk

on the sidewalk

where for months

a panhandler stood

~John J. Dunphy

the way he pours wine unsaid conversations

~Mona Bedi

dying alone phone

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the safety of a quilt this depression

~Mona Bedi

killed without trial stink bug in toaster

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

measuring scale —

how fragile

this life balance 

~Mona Bedi

thrift shop

unkempt man

offers to trade

his Purple Heart

for a blanket

~John J. Dunphy

summer's end

autumn turns red

with war

~Kimberly Kuchar

bombed fields —

a farmer reaps

emptiness

~Mona Bedi

Afternoon of November 10, 2023

 

we were left with a petal and

empty cider bottles as a souvenir

autumn has never been

so forgotten before

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

the ant

under my

feet

taught me

to be small

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

no one will ask the foliage

about green silence

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

the cage asked the bird

and received no answer

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

tigers in the zoo:

no one sees how

the meat is prepared for them

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

Steak Gone Rogue!

mammal's vital organ

meaty, dark, reddish-brown

On. a. plate. Fried.

eyes, revolted

nose, offended

taste buds, assaulted

mouth, with soap, relieved

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

windy day –

braids of garlic

on a crowded bus

~Bonnie J Scherer

a puppy using geomancy to find the bone

~Elliot Diamond

no-see-um bugs I see-um

~Sharon Ferrante

my many faces in a gnat cloud

~Sharon Ferrante

during your vows

teeth lined your sleeves

some large, some small

the guests would weep

to hear the gnashing

~Richard Magahiz

God's seraph

each feather

iridescent paper

~Richard Magahiz

by the fridge

tilted columns

of stacked vertebrae

~Richard Magahiz

Trivia Bliss


I thought I knew everything


there was to know about the Beatles,


and then I read on the internet


John Lennon’s first childhood cat was named Elvis.


Lennon loved cats, the factoid said,


and I love Lennon more for that.

~Charles Rammelkamp

Laugh and cry

One's his fault

The other has no blame

I just can't help it

Love's not as easy

as they make it look on TV

~G. Lynn Brown

urban forest

grandest fir-faux

cell tower

~JL Huffman

soap bubbles

riding wind currents

out of sight

~Richard Bailly

Winter rain feels nothing

but I am getting frostbit

writing cold haiku.

~Noah Berlatsky

The Seagull’s 135^th Seguidilla

 

You must know a gull who says,

For reasons unknown,

The sky’s glue. Some believe it,

Never knowing dawn.

How many songbirds

Sing as if the sky is glue?

Something like two-thirds.

~Jake Sheff

The Seagull’s 242^nd Seguidilla

 

The fierce continuity

Between the slag-heap

Of dead gull ideas and now

Would make a stag leap.

Ideas like postcards

Floating on the sea to be

Read by the Coast Guard.

~Jake Sheff

Afternoon of November 8, 2023

aches and pains

the subtle differences

between snowflakes

~Robert Witmer

always that one guy asleep on the train

folded in half

~Kathy Watts

Frosted

You think you are a chocolate cake you frosted for dessert. You think your sweet talk more than pays for all the times

I paid your bills and offered you free rent. You expect me to pay the tab when we go out to eat. You never leave a tip. I

have a tip for you, my dear. You are just a frosted flake, and you’re not worth the milk to flush you down my throat and

out the other end.

~Nolcha Fox

a bonbon

on my lifeline

time will tell

~Robert Witmer

odds and ends

the grotesque handles

on the coffin of my dreams

~Robert Witmer

I Don’t Understand

Explain to me this transition from life to death, this nakedness of being between a last sip of coffee and a chiseled

stiff in a coffin, soon to be forgotten. Perhaps this is a last split millisecond to practice the fine art of nothing, a last

whoop where we swing over a chasm of whitewater before we fall. We fall. Without understanding.

~Nolcha Fox

a stranded salmon

its mouth opens and closes

…the fear of speaking out

~Wanda Amos

inside

the huge fish

his wife's ring

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

limp chocolate dashboard rundown

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

skeleton dance

his bony hands

creep lower

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel

long skeletal branch

stretches deep into autumn woods

swallowed in darkness

~Steve Van Allen

millions of sperm

seeking one egg

new moon

~Wanda Amos

Today I am perfect

For I have done nothing but lie in bed

~Sam Kilkenny

too deep for crows feet

must be

ravens feet

~Kathy Watts

my life

moving into the slow lane…

my smart car

commends me

for my eco driving

~Wanda Amos

vector analysis

a misplaced mosquito

in the palm of my hand

~Robert Witmer

Morning of November 5, 2023

 

  gentle breeze blows

cold upon my neck–

stepping through a ghost

~Jennifer Gurney

under garage door

is guy trapped half-in

or half-out

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the song was sung long ago

the echo still remains

of voices faint and far off

I do not know the words

~Ann Christine Tabaka

searching for your heart in the hayloft

~Patricia Hawkhead

trembling time wound tight enough to show, don’t tell

~Mark Gilbert

two in the morning

I am awake

I must write

three in the afternoon

I am drained

the ink ran dry

~Ann Christine Tabaka

glistening temptation

I drink from the source

with cupped hands

my muse

played by an actress

~Mark Gilbert

the trees are barren–

reminding me

of me

~Jennifer Gurney

Boredom

 

The man,

bored with

life, drooped like

a wilting flower

unwatered and left to dry out

on a windowsill, blinds drawn in lunar eclipse.

~Steve Gerson

Autumn, will you stop?

The leaves fall; the clock turns back.

But the leaves still fall.

~Noah Berlatsky

superhero

fly in

give the presentation

take questions

have a beer

fly out

~Mark Gilbert

clouds stately & silent

my migraine

squirming & slithery

~Mark Gilbert

Our Pushcart Prize Nominations for Poetry

Pushcart Prize Poetry Nominations

from Five Fleas Itchy Poetry (Poems published during 2023)

I’m a Mural by Jay Passer

 

Baby Dalí by Kelly Moyer

 

Fairy Tales by Gabriel Bates

Sing Gone by Nolcha Fox

49 Cents Change by Keith Snow

Untitled (first line at least two years) by Patrick Sweeney