Spooked Horse

I am riding the spooked horse through a world of shadows –   In my visions, there is nothing but ghosts of all things.   There is another world behind the one we live in. Everything I see here, is a shadow from that world.   When I am riding, things I see before me disappear. There is no more grass or trees, skies or rocks.   When I am standing still, I am traveling on a horse made of bellows.   by Craig Read more [...]

Attention Deficit

My mind does not sway like awkward young lovers slow dancing at their high school prom. My mind does not run up and down a beach like water carried by the tide. And my mind most certainly does not billow like a branch in the breeze.   My mind is erratic and sporadic, It’s fantastic and its spontaneous. It jumps from room to room, wall to wall like electricity it is electric.   My attention deficit is not a disorder, it is a way of life. A Read more [...]

The Morning News and Snow

I sweat while I hack up dust balls in the oily smelling morning –5:09 I pound the coffee grounds into the receptacle and wait an empty stomach grows like a hybrid monkey I ignore it and read another Isacc Babel story –that horrible war and lumber to the cinema books there is a picture of Satre smoking on the beach at Cannes 1947 I pull at heavy drapes and am surprised by a white and dark world almost black and white but with a strange blue hue –snow in february you are so cliché now Read more [...]

Rose Mary Boehm

Under cover of night The fiddler in blue gave the slip to a toad of African proportions. Toad wanted the fiddle. The big silver whale walked out of the water took over the bandstand   and the angel folded his heavy wings. In the soft light of loving consequences the dragonflies sat quietly on shimmer and sparkle. Brook burbled and wouldn’t change its tune.   Marigold floated on blackbird’s melody, holding on to spiderwebs during intervals. Read more [...]

Carla Ingram

Home The fifth of November, I remember dark nights Of frost, bitter cold, biting winds, clad in Winter's warm woolens with fur-booted feet. Into pitch blackness, a wide gulp of my heaven, The aroma so sweetly inhaled as we stride With the moon as our constant companion.   Rockets and wheels spinning and whizzing, while Heaped pyramid fires rise higher, great pyres Of wood and Guys we all made, with faces And arms and legs, so real, sat atop the tip Stuffed with Read more [...]

Sarah Lucille Marchant

Caleb plastic necklaces strung pretty dusty in his eyes (luminosity dulled by dime-store display) you skip around crinkle leaf sidewalk play you roll your eyes green to yellow to orange ink scratch-out paper hiding behind your grin what was there before? what did you never allow? sodden ground thoughts & secrets threaded dead grass tangled thriving weeds and I'm drowning beside you   Sarah Lucille Marchant is a Missouri resident and university student, studying Read more [...]

Sigh

when I say something witty –   out, because your insides can’t bear to be in. Whatever you pulled inside I deflated. I didn’t even need a pin.   I saw you. When you were under the fig tree I saw you.   While you loaf, I’ll be under lamplight tracing the shadow of my hand on the table.   All I am, the pitcher of thought without the thought of preservation.   Unlike you, unlike salmon, my back will break   the Read more [...]