Thursday, May 28, 2015

A Poem by Ralph Monday

That Vortex Vibe

The guy ran a better deal than
Barnum and Bailey.
It was once upon a time
stuff when we first met.
You know the deal
Flowers and chocolate,
long soul-bearing walks
in the woods,
sex like the opening scene
of a porno classic.
Then you were Marilyn Chambers
before Behind the Green Door,
still the Ivory soap girl,
Snow White, not Mary Magdalene,
beauty before he became the beast.
You got sucked in--like we all do--
into his black vortex.
You became his child, a stupid toy
thing, mannequin that he dressed at
will.  He controlled everything:
money, perspective,
made you feel dumb for not realizing
his genius, how right he was, how
wrong you were,
trophy on the mantle,
you started wondering what was
wrong with you, didn't you?
You wrote long texts explaining
how you feel,
that he ignored.
You did everything he asked
in an attempt to please.
All in vain.
He found another supply,
didn't he?
Left you spinning in
the hole.
Don't worry.
He'll be back.

Ralph Monday is Associate Professor of English at Roane State Community College in Harriman, TN, and published in over 50 journals.  A chapbook, All American Girl and Other Poems, was published in July 2014.  A book, Lost Houses and American Renditions, is scheduled for publication, May 2015 by Aldrich Press.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Three Poems by S. Black

her song

i am found hiding
with her song
the breaking dawn
the latest colour
of her hair
and the sacred places
where the love
used to begin

maybe just maybe
time hasn't wasted its time on us

she farts again
i can't take it anymore

the new girlfriend

i heard it said
she wasn't all bad
and it is funny
in this light
there is a resemblance
but in another
she reminds me of her
in that wedding photo
the one they found
on the path
that follows the river

total recall

i burned all memory
there was nothing left
last night
2:30 a.m.
in the 24-hour supermarket
i saw a woman
she looked
nothing like her
it was uncanny

S. Black has been mining for a heart of gold since 1967, and lives in the UK.  Other writing may be found at the likes of Clutching at Straws, Gutter Eloquence, Red Fex, Tanka Undertow, and Deadsnakes.

S. Black - Mining for a heart of gold since 1967, lives in the UK. Other writing may be found at the likes of Clutching at Straws, Gutter Eloquence, Red Fez, Tanka Undertow and Deadsnakes.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

A Poem by Mercedes Webb-Pullman

13 uses for love

I love seeing cities
in rear view

and your morning smile opening
even before your eyes.

I'm moved by
the second movement;
I'm sure the cellist
will prove a good investment.

Grace today--
every traffic light
from the fire station to Oriental Bay
past the railway station
to the biscuit tin
turned green for me--
I felt like
President Kennedy.

I really admire your work
with the Palestinian Zapatistas

and I adore garlic prawns
cooked tails on, the Spanish way
soaking up olive oil
and crunchy bits of garlic and chili
with chunks of bread
and a cold pinot gris

I'm amazed at what you've done
with the bathroom, so original,

amusing and flippant
like Frank Zappa's music.

I'm hot for cool
blue clarinets

and passionate about
pomegranates and

I dissolve in Courtney
square hole Love
's music but not in her acting.

Somehow it's satisfying
that the Fairlane is longer
than the house is wide

and I'm happy that
Butch Cassidy
thought of going
to Australia
just before
he died.

Mercedes Webb-Pullman graduated from IIML Victoria University Wellington with MA in Creative Writing in 2011.  Her poems and the odd short story have appeared online, in print and in her books Food 4 Thought, Numeralla Dreaming, After the Danse, Ono, Looking for Kerouac, Tasseography, Bravo Charlie Foxtrot and Collected Poems 2008-2014.  She lives on the Kapiti Coast, New Zealand.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

A Poem by Karen Sylvia Rockwell

remembering love

remembering love    in flashes    as i move through traffic   //   i see your hands on the wheel    poised    as they were then   //   you turn towards me   and i see your face   smiling lovingly   as it did then   //   the light turns green   i accelerate   with a smile   remembering

melancholy seeps in slowly   as Little Texas and i   fill the air   with laments about   what might have been   and i recall   what used to be   //   turning left along Sunset    i study forms   with backpacks   slung casually over one shoulder   never finding you

my heart yearns   as my head rebels   offering every explanation   for why it is   all in the past   and why   it should remain that way   //  they both agree    that alone   is better    for always   says my head   with our memories   whispers my heart

bittersweet resignation   accompanies me along the drive   as the wipers   clear drizzle   from the pain   //   intermittently   //   interrupting   //   remembering

After her Ma passed away in 2008, Karen Sylvia Rockwell became fierce about writing, diving into workshops and readings.  She is celebrating the recognition her work is receiving, including being awarded 1st Place in Room Magazine's 2013 Poetry Contest.  Karen's work is featured in Room, Deep Water Literary Journal, The Saving Bannister, OffSIDE, Cranberry Tree Press's Happenstance, Ascent Aspirations' 2014 Bizarre Anthology, Womanspirit's In Our Own Voice, Vanessa Shields' Poetry ON Demand, vol. 2, and several anthologies of The Ontario Poetry Society and of Polar Expressions Publishing.  Karen lives in Belle River Ontario.