in competition with the cardinal, thrasher, shriek
of the woodpecker, the acerbic buzz
of the cactus wren, the tiny transistor voice
of the costa hummingbird
lift his black chin, his bobbing top feather
and sing to the skies
*****
"One writes to make a home for oneself, on paper, in time, in others' minds."
--Alfred Kazin
Valerie Kravette is a former actress and singer living in Southeast Arizona with her writer husband, Stephen. She enjoys witnessing the collision and collusion of the natural and man-made world. Contact Valerie.
.
NUMB AS A WOUND
By Ram Mehta
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in the air,
You look real as life, amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe a sonnet,
I see you embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, lips as a dry leaf,
Your green deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither death kills me, nor does life,
Your silence eats my soul and body.
Numb as a disease, I die of a thought,
Don't you sense the same as I ought?
WHAT MAKES YOU LOOK AT ME
By Ram Mehta
Why are men attracted at 'Hour-glass curvature?'
Women at broad T-shaped male potentiality?
Men depend more on attractive structure,
Women look for strength and capability.
A pea-sized epicenter, Hypothalamus,
Sets off sexual attractions and domains,
We learn about it from our environments,
But some are in-built into human brains.
Black childish Cleopatra, with fatal brain,
Captivated mighty Anthony and Julius,
Helen, abducted and married, time & again,
Made Illium burnt, enchanting Paris & Menelaus.
Most cultures have same perception of beauty,
Facial and body features may differ in entirety.
Aphrodite
By Ram Mehta
The goddess of love, beauty and sexual rapture,
Born out of the churning and foaming of
Severed genitals thrown into the ocean
Her beauty irresistible, joyous and glamorous
Was a concern of worry to her father Zeus,
Who married her off to sooty Hephaestus.
She loved and was loved by gods and mortals.
Adonis being the most famous of all.
With her charms Aphrodite still lives on,
Father Zeus no more worried about her.
Gods have retired from the earth as they
Are no longer interested in earthly beauty.
Adonis is available for the asking,
Sex - still the only method of worship.
After his retirement in 1994, Dr. Ram Mehta splits his time between India and North America. He visited France on a cultural mission in 1989 and presented a scene of Moliere's La tartuffe in Paris. He also visited UK, Scotland and Ireland. He is a life member of the World Academy of Arts & Culture and attended its convention at IASI, Romania in October, 2002 and 25th World of Congress at Los Angeles in August, 2005. He also attended 4th Encuentro Internacional Literario at Montevideo, Uruguay in April, 2003. He has been awarded the honorary degree of Litt.D -by The World Academy of Arts and culture at Los Angeles (USA), in 2005 (Unesco sponsored)
Cold Case
By Kristen Howe
It was an ordinary day, which ended in a twist,
A very big cold case have been solved,
The CSI unit, the FBI and detectives on the case, struggled for answers,
The unsolved mystery have been on the shelf for months, even years.
The family of the victims can finally bring them home,
With the right identification on their tombstones for their burial,
After they've exhausted every avenue, clue and lead,
The killer finally made a confession, when offered a lighter sentence.
He was 100% guaranteed that, that's where he buried them,
Hope, after a long search and tax dollars, overwhelmed the town,
Life must go on, even in grief and sorrow for the families,
Everyone knew, he had no excuse to do what he did.
It made the news headlines even more with the media,
A press conference was now required for all law enforcement officials,
This once quiet town will have a meaningful memorial,
Tears of sadness, and sighs of relief, were expected.
They found out, that he was planning to keep it a secret,
With a reasonable doubt, even under pressure, he cracked,
That's what they all needed and wanted-a little push,
Pretty soon, this disruptive, grieving town would be back to normal.
They pretty much knew, that things won't be the same,
Things have changed, since they were dead and long gone,
And that was the plain truth-not an exaggeration,
Sometimes, prayers can be answered by angels.
In that perspective, hope isn't too far off,
God is available to console them in grief,
A portion of restlessness and stress will fade away,
They were thankful for the quality time they've worked on in this case.
***
Eventide Inferno
By Kristen Howe
A medium shade of blue paints the sky,
The clouds visible and thin in stretches of white,
Swaying barren trees with a light airy breeze,
From the quiet shoreline to an ambit's view.
An eventide inferno hits the night scene,
Orange cascades against a pre-black backdrop,
Yellow highlights it with bits of red like a fire,
Colors of sherbert or sobert put the cityscape aglow.
My poetry has appeared in Associated Content, Blazevox (now), Blue Fog Journal, Ceremony, Current Accounts, Down in the Dirt, Fullosia Press, The Funny Paper, Hummingbird, Illogical Muse, Languageandculture.net, Long Story Short, Love’s Chance, The Magical Blog, Mid-America Poetry Review, Nomad’s Choir (sometime this year), the Oak, Pink Chameleon Online, Poetic Hours, Poet’s Haven, Poet’s Pen (twice), Pulse, Purple Dream, Quantum Leap (5/2008), Redbridge Review (twice), Remark, Ribbons, Sage of Consciousness, The Shepherd, Silver Wings, (twice-one coming in future), Stellar Showcase Journal (twice), Soul Fountain, (twice), Speedpoets this June, (Australian market), Storyteller now, Victory News, Wanderings, Westward Quarterly, Women of the Cross. While I devote my time to poetry (both reading and writing), I'm looking for FT office work- which inspires me more poetry than you might imagine.
FLY
By Kendra Maurer
Sunlight glistens on river dancer's
wet round head
as line twitches bring it
up, down through clear water
reflecting light
and calling a bite.
Empty, it flies back up out of river
and through air in a graceful arc
flinging river droplets like a rainbow
from its featherlike tail.
One jerk and it dances in water again,
following river's lead
it twists, turns past mossrocks--
silently calling--
water to air, and back,
it dances on its line
for a bite.
I graduated from NNU with a BA in English and then got sidetracked from continuing my education by starting a family. I've had poems published in an educational journal and one chapbook. I live in Montana, where the beauty around me and my family inspire many poems. Contact me.
PREACHER THOUGHT
By Hugh A. Jones
You tell us you have
been the river son
but now you be a
foolish thing of
fool's gold
can't you see the
trouble spewing
out them musty
railroad cars
there'll come a grim sunrise
hot engines churnin'
hey, my vacuum
cleaner run too
short of cord
now step that river
up my man we
see a chosen
lovely waitin' to
lean close
unto your heart
I PONDER TO RESPOND
(A College Lab)
By Hugh A. Jones
Dim-lit shadows of
some older females'
shimmer-moves that
have no meaning not
to be deemed sensual
We have been culled
for our responses by
a Rorschach type of
testing to perceive a
predilection present
These ladies aren't
slim posers yet our
sought responses
come enclosed in
all due earnestness
GIVING THANKS
By Gary Carter
It's that time of year again
Time for giving thanks, without end
For life, for love,
For our Savior's blessings from above
Thanks for yet another day
A time to work, a time to play
Thanks for the wind, the rain, a rainbow far
My home, my pets, an evening star
Clouds aglow on a summer's eve
Green-white sails in a summer breeze
Flowers, fields, a tall green tree
A baby's cry, a deep blue sea
Thanks for all the friends I've made
Cherry jam and marmalade
Birds that fly about my house
Books, a TV, my computer mouse
A stomach filled, a heart that's full
My family, my health, a midnight's lull
It's that time of year again
Time for giving thanks, without end
Gary is the author of Jump Start, an apocalyptic science fiction thriller, as well as the recently released For the Good of the Many, a military/political thriller. His poem My City by the Sea is excerpted from a chap book of his poems now in production. Gary's poems have appeared in the Port Orford, Oregon, News, as well as the Las Vegas Sun. You can visit him at his website at www.garycarter-ent-jumpstart.com.
*Gary is the recipient of the 2007 Silver Award Winner for exceptional military fiction from the Military Writer's Society of America. Gary's novel, For the Good of the Many is our Book of the Month for November.
