“Conversation with Dusk” by John Shanabrook
whispered hatreds
rise in the steam
born of dreams
recondense into tears
that drop stains
upon conscience
softly burning small
holes that in time
reveal truth in the
shape of the heart
where all wordless
emotions congeal
into congeries good
men would rather
disown and deny them
their audible voice
(originally posted December 2013)
“Space Time Continuum” by Mike Savad
existence a blur
instant centuries
pass underneath
every eyeblink
the elderly clock
spins its filigreed
hands imperceptibly
circles of aeons
swift tracings
unfelt and unseen
by all but the mind
who knows destiny
able to dream of
all motion and
moment combined
and compressed
into spacetime
an elegant curve
unimpeded by
fictional forces
a unity absent of all
referential inertia
affixed on an
imminent future
a future familiar
without a beginning
remembered in
deep limbic structures
the vessels obtained
of organic eternity
“Sycamore Snow” by Ann Garrett
lambent altar cloths
dressing sycamore chapels
creatures genuflect
(originally posted December 2013)
“Woman Writing” by Pablo Picasso
cry the wounds of an age
pushed on pages by pens
that forget when the gold
ring of language drew
gleaming king’s english from
inkpots where schoolboys
found grammars of words
turned and tugged into
metaphors bristling with
quotable clarity singing
with syntax that Donne
might have taken his pause
for brief moment to taste
with that eloquent tongue
(originally posted December 2013)
“Abandoned Yellow House” photo by Madden Vallis
old things die amid new
a fleeting duet
color comes of a season
vibrant yellow
on loan from the sun
life and death
in the tint of their turns
each a gift
in its own right of moment
small piece
of that generous arc
that defines
the invisible motion of time
Rare Gathering of the Lenzi Clan
(Minus One Granddaughter)
At Our Home, Stonewood – Circa 2008
families strain to maintain
their extended identity
flung to far corners of
work-a-day exigence
cutting themselves on the
sharpness of distances
hanging by virtual tendons
ethereal tissues technology
grows across gaps ever
widened displacement
of once vital organs beset
by asynchrony left to evolve
into new independent
corporeal entities
(originally posted December 2013)
“Night Sky” by Nikol Wikman
impressing the stars
such ridiculous folly
the light in their eyes
is so achingly old
they won’t see you
for millions of years
and by then
they’ll have watched
birth and death of
uncountable splendidly
interesting worlds
do you think the brief
speck of a spark
that was you
will have mattered at all
if you do
then I’ll make you
a place in my heart
where I keep a conviction
that every life
matters a lot
more than starshine
can ever record
or will likely remember
(originally posted December 2013)
“Untitled (Hitchcock)” by Robert Natkin
folded colors
paint layers of lyrics
soft to the touch of the eye
sundry haberdash textures
acutely arranged
like articulate works of a clock
tailored vestments of time
clothe the days of a life
a disciplined set of beliefs
on well-ordered display
a mind given to tidiness
evident shapes of emotion
beneath philosophical raiment
a visual cognitive character
lending depiction of mind
ethos pathos and logos
in notional portraiture
somehow made tangible
dressed in the discourse
of memory
lingering artfully
long past the grave
“Purple Moonlight” by Sneddonia
which colors obtain
grueling portraitures of pain
black on purple serves
agonized canvasses well
slashing eyes with sharp edges
(originally posted December 2013)
Magazine Issue #10 Edited by Jennifer Nichole Wells
Many thanks to Jennifer Nichole Wells for doing me the honor of publishing my poem Animus in her magazine fēlan: Poetry and Visual Arts. You can find it in the March 2017 edition of the magazine which is devoted to the emotion of anger.
Also, thanks go to fellow poet and blogger M. Zane McClellan for introducing me to Jennifer’s publications.
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)
flights of fancy from New Zealand
You're never alone, if you've something to share
All you touch and all you see / is all your life will ever be
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...
rejuvenatement - not retirement
Poesy plus Polemics 