MARY PACIFICO CURTIS is CEO of Pacifico Inc., a Silicon Valley advertising and public relations firm. A graduate of Northwestern University, Mary currently serves on the board of the Children’s Musical Theater, as an Arts Commissioner for the Town of Los Gatos and on the founding advisory committee for San Jose Rocks. A recipient of the American Advertising Federation’s Silver Medal Award recognizing excellence in the industry and social responsibility, Mary is a frequent speaker on topics pertaining to branding and marketing. Pacifico participates actively in a number of professional organizations and is a member of the Public Relations Society of America, and the Business Marketing Association. Mary has recently taken the time to pursue a lifelong passion for creative writing. Contact Mary.
BETTER AND SWEETER WITH AGE
by Susie McCray
The older I get
I feel that my life
is getting so
much better
sweeter
I know how to
entertain myself
as well as
going out and
being the life
of the party
I'm not afraid
to talk to
strangers and make
them my good
friends I try not to
let how other
people's idea of
me bother me
because I am
my own worst
critic or best
mentor
I'm having
the time of
my life and
I'm going
to ensure that
it gets so
much better
sweeter
SUSIE McCRAY has recently published a book of poems entitled, "See What I See". To learn more about this author, check out her website at www.susiemccray.com. Her email address is susie@susiemccray.com.
MUSK
by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Cousin Linda brushes past, reaches
for her first cup of coffee.
My nose catches
the changed flavor of air. I ask
what she's wearing today.
Musk, she says, smile coy
around the edges.
My mind bounces
from image to image:
Pulling open the sealed page
of a glossy magazine, the rush of perfume
that floods the room,
An ad with sleek woman stretched
almost-clad on a leopard skin,
A tall man in jeans and leather vest
standing, legs spread, by a Jeep.
What I cannot picture is this sturdy woman
in her fifties, hair brown from a bottle,
her talk full of life on a Virginia farm.
I realize, with a smile at myself,
this is the perfect musk-woman—
one who handles animals
husky and dying, hunted and cleaned
for the pot, works with smells
of barnyard and birthing room,
the essence of musk.
"Musk" was awarded First Place, Juried Selection, in the latest issue of LUCIDITY Journal of Poetry.
PATRICIA WELLINGHAM-JONES has written DON'T TURN AWAY: Poems About Breast Cancer and END-CYCLE: Poems about caregiving, among others. She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and her work is published in numerous anthologies, journals and Internet magazines. A cancer survivor, Patricia has a longtime interest in 'healing writing' and the benefits people gain from writing and reading their work together. Her website is www.wellinghamjones.com
POEM OF THE MONTH
WHAT OF THE CEDAR TREES
by Ernest Williamson III
there was no lament in the dour Cedar trees
in the corner I was upright like the lives in
Katrina's droning leveling flesh but mystified by the
spirit of resplendent hands holding on to future bonds
with no regard for stocks in residual condonement
but back to the Cedar trees
these two worn 200 year old bodies
showing with no regard for shame its stains
its diaries of exposition for men and women to ignore
and explore
though I see the trees as few may see them
I am no child and wonderment evades the man who evades
the spores of initiation
that high pitched blooming eye loving the trees
but yet not knowing them
at least as I say to know them
ERNEST WILLIAMSON III is a 31 year old polymath who has published poetry and visual art in over 150 online and print journals. He is a self-taught pianist and painter and his poem "The Jazz of Old Wine" has been nominated for a Best of the Net award by the editors of "Thick with Conviction". He holds the B.A. and the M.A. in English/Creative Writing/Literature from the University of Memphis. Ernest is listed in the prestigious Directory of American Poets and Fiction Writers: www.pw.org/content/ernest_williamson_iii . He has taught at NJCU and is currently an English Professor at Essex County College. Professor Williamson is also a Ph.D. Candidate at Seton Hall University in the field of Higher Education, and a member of The International High IQ Society. View his website: www.eyeoftheart.com/ErnestWilliamsonIII . Contact Ernest.
I see the spring dance all over your face in green
you were arrogant before you viewed my willow tree
outside my balcony.
Now you wave at me
with green fingers
and lime smiles.
You twist my words,
Harvard collegiate style,
right where you want them to be--
lime green, willow tree, and
dark skinned branches.
MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON is a poet, and freelance writer. He is self-employed in advertising, and selling custom promotional products. He is the author of THE LOST AMERICAN: From Exile to Freedom. He has also published two chapbooks of poetry. He is also nominated for the James B. Baker Award in Poetry, Sam's Dot Publishing and is a contributor in the Silver Boomers poetry anthology. Michael Lee Johnson presently resides in Itasca, Illinois. He lived in Canada during the Vietnam era and will be published in the anthology CROSSING LINES: Poets Who Came to Canada in the Vietnam War Era (publication scheduled for 2008). He has been published in the USA, Canada, UK, New Zealand, Australia, Turkey, Algeria, Africa, India, Fiji, Thailand and Malaysia. He is the publisher, editor of Poetic Legacy, Birds By My Window: Willow Tree Poems and A Tender Touch & A Shade of Blue. All publications are now open for submissions. For more information, visit his website at http://poetryman.mysite.com/. Contact Michael.
COMET'S PASSAGE
by Scott Appleton
Upon a silver horse, Comet rode through the sky
His mount's hair flying up, around, behind him,
In glorious, cascading light
The likes of which
The world beneath him
Had never seen.
He urged on his powerful, space charger
Charting his course to the left, around, behind the planet,
Exulting, soaring beyond
Until the world below him,
Was the world behind him,
And he moved on.
The stars dimmed, acknowledging his superior light
And his charger dropped silvery hairs glowing, burning, in its wake,
A trail of fire fading, dimming
So that the world behind
And the stars they passed
Would not soon forget.
To other planets, Comet journeyed
Guiding his horse between, above, beyond
Through cold space, streaming
He wheeled his beast,
To re-enter the solar system,
The familiar cycle to repeat.
SCOTT APPLETON is a freelance writer living in CT. LongStoryShort has published three of his fiction works. Currently he is preparing for
next year's release of his fantasy novel, SWORDS OF THE SIX. He
maintains a blog at www.flamingpen.blogspot.com . Contact: spappleton@gmail.com
REFLECTIONS OF BEAUTY
by Floriana Hall
Sitting on a bench by the lake
Beauty reflected in the view I partake,
Splendor of trees, majestic, so tall,
Parfait images ripple in fall.
Reds, green, crimson and gold
Duplicate pictures my eyes behold,
Maple, elm, oak or pine
Mirrored gifts of brilliance divine.
Silhouettes and shadows so calm
Frolicking moon’s soothing balm,
Shimmering star light dances,
Wild life unique the pond enhances.
Morning’s grandiose sun rises
On this pool of colorful surprises,
Looking into the water I see
Graceful symmetrical reflections
Surrounding fantasy in all directions.
Beholding nature’s emulation
Produces a happy, calm sensation,
Time to get up and walk around
While others muse this scene profound.
From GATHERING GRACES.
FLORIANA BERDYCK HALL was born in 1927 in Pittsburgh, PA, She is a Distinguished Alumna of Cuyahoga Falls High School, OH and attended Akron U. She has been married to Robert for 59 years. They have five children, nine grandchildren, one great-granddaughter. She is author/editor of ten nonfiction inspirational books, SMALL CHANGE, self published; THE ADVENTURES OF FLOSSIE, ROBBIE, AND JUNEY During The Great Depression (2006); THE SANDS OF RHYME, poetry; DADDY WAS A BAD BOY; OUT OF THE ORDINARY SHORT STORIES; HEARTS ON THE MEND (2006); FRANCIS, NOT THE SAINT (2008) and GATHERING GRACES, poetry (2008). Founder/coordinator of the Poet’s Nook at Cuyahoga Falls Library, Floriana is Editor of the group’s three books, THROUGH OUR EYES: Poems of Beautiful Northeast Ohio, POET’S NOOK POTPOURRI, and TOUCHING THE HEARTS OF GENERATIONS. She is the winner of many poetry contests and mentioned in WHO’S WHO IN US WRITERS, EDITORS AND POETS, WHO’S WHO IN INTERNATIONAL POETRY, MARQUIS WHO’S WHO IN AMERICA. She has been published in the US, UK, France and India and is a Poetry teacher, YOU, ME, AND POETRY, at www.LssWritingSchool.com. Contact Floriana. Websites: www.alongstoryshort.net/FlorianaHall.html and www.BooksofExcellence.com
GROWING OLDER
by Alice Shevitz
The lagging Brain
hesitates, failing
to absorb the
diluted compromise
of half-reached
goals and
imperfect wisdom.
The softened Eye
lifts its clouded
vision to the
lowered hills
and sees
through dreams
of gauze.
The saddened Ear
hears varied
strains of notes
long lost and
grasps the echo
of a song
no longer heard.
The troubled Mouth
speaks softly,
carefully awaiting
words that
will not come --
final words of
forgotten knowledge.
The longing Heart
taps gently in
the aching breast,
longing for
a chorus
of unrepeated
joy and sorrow.
ALICE SHEVITZ has published humor in The Saturday Evening Post. She also won First Place in a poetry contest sponsored by the Newspaper Institute of America (Mamaroneck, NY) and has had several articles published in a local newspaper. In addition to humor, Alice writes poetry and short stories. She lives in Virginia. Contact Alice.
All poems are copyrighted by their respective authors.
TIME
by Marie Delgado Travis
Time has been
Unjust to us.
You, a younger man.
I, a married woman.
Two souls
Forever
Intertwined
Without present,
Past or future.
Because time
Has been
Unkind to us.
MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is an award-winning author. She writes poetry and prose in English and Spanish. Visit her website at www.mariedelgadotravis.com . Her personal storefront is www.lulu.com/marilu
DOWN THE DARK HOLE
UP TO THE LIGHT
by Donna M. Carbone
On a long hemp rope, tattered and frayed
A bucket hangs on constant display
Except for the times it descends down the well
Into darkened depths no light can dispel
With wooden crank to lower it down
Between moss covered walls below the ground
This bucket symbolic of dreams unfulfilled
Aspirations unrealized, lost sense of will
Empty of effort, weathered and cracked
It takes great strength to draw it back
Its heaviness comes not from what is within
But from the weight of grief surrounding the rim
To the bottom and back, the cycle repeats
From darkness to light ever the feat
Once more must be gathered the strength and desire
To dwell in the present with all that transpires
On a long hemp rope, tattered and frayed
A bucket hangs on constant display
In its worn weathered wood a flower does bloom
The start of a garden once lost in the gloom
It takes but one seed for a bouquet to grow
Each blossom a wish that gently unfolds
The bucket symbolic of life and of hope
Held securely by dreams to the end of a rope
DONNA CARBONE was bitten by the writing bug while in grammar school....many, many years ago...after winning a poetry contest at the age of ten. In her own words, "Each day inspires me...what I see, hear and experience.... If it lingers in my consciousness, I write about it." Her filing cabinet is also full of short stories. Contact Donna.
MY DEAREST BOSTON
by Robert Simmons
Your little bay colony with it's hook caped anomaly, wanders the halls of me, haunts me and calls for me, pulls me so strong as it beckons with song, implores me by name, yet a name not the same, but of someone which walked here before me.
If I am the same by the name you proclaim, then the sense of it all dawns upon me. For explained is the reason, my soul grapples with treason, in forsaking colonial yore.
The thunder of mortar, the flintlock of musket, the battles of blood which were spent. The cold steely pierce of the bayonet's gore, commenced and laid seed on the hills of your shore.
Your little bay colony which consumes every part of me, refuses to let me forget. Plays the drums and the fife, your reminder of life, and the sonnet of your supplications.
One if by land, two if by sea... your parchment unfurls, and the pendulant glow of your lantern ne'er wanes.
ROBERT SIMMONS was born and raised in Hollywood California, After many years in the IT financial and investment sectors, he feels compelled to address the passion he has always felt for expressive writing. He now calls New England home. Contact Robert.
