MARIE DELGADO TRAVIS is proud of her Nuyorican roots. She has won awards for her poetry and prose in English and Spanish, including Honorable Mention, 9th International Latino Book Awards, Juried Poet, 2007 Houston Poetry Fest and Second Place in the international Tom Howard Poetry Awards (2005). Her work appears in CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. Visit her web site at www.mariedelgadotravis.com
A BREATH OF SPRING
by Liz Fortini
you come in the morning
from the mantle of night
in evergreen tang
beckon from my rose window
you lead me to the wayside
where I inhale sweetness
crossing into the present
I capture your sighs
you are mine
you complete the whistle in the wind
fulfill my nightingale’s song
through unpopulated stretches
in the mid-afternoon pause
when evening is done
your baby’s breath
lingers at my table
murmurs to the fading glow
of my bedside fire
wake me by your jonquil sentinel
at the gate of passing winter
it holds this day
and quiets down
until the last bloom
exhales into summer
"A Breath of Spring" previously appeared in Las Positas College Literary Anthology (March 2005).
LIZ FORTINI is a translator of major Italian and French poets of the 20th century. She is the publisher of
FLORIANA HALL was born in Pennsylvania in 1927 and is a Distinguished Alumna of Cuyahoga Falls High School, Ohio. She attended Akron University and has been married to Robert for 59 years. They have 5 children, 9 grandchildren and a great-granddaughter. She is author/editor of ten nonfiction inspirational books, and founder/coordinator of The Poet’s Nook, with whom she has published THROUGH OUR EYES: Poems of Beautiful Northeast Ohio, POET’S NOOK POTPOURRI, and TOUCHING THE HEARTS OF GENERATIONS. Floriana has won many poetry contests and has been published in the U.S., Europe and India. She teaches poetry in the Long Story Short Writer's School, www.LSSWritingSchool.com and is mentioned in WHO’S WHO IN US WRITERS, EDITORS AND POETS, WHO’S WHO IN INTERNATIONAL POETRY and MARQUIS WHO’S WHO IN AMERICA. Web site: www.alongstoryshort.net/FlorianaHall.htmlContact Floriana.
spring wind
creating prairie grass ripples
poppies pop
PHOTO HAIKU BY BARB CHANDLER
ALONE
by JAX
At what point did I become invisible in your eyes—just a secondary character in the story of your life?
When did I lose your intrigue—do I not surprise you anymore?
Was it time that stole my mystery—or was it boredom that crept up throughout the years?
At what point did I allow you to drill a hole into my heart—a wound so deep that your countless lashings couldn't heal.
Did I not respect myself enough—or was it false hope clinging to the expectation of change?
How I miss a man’s gentle hands touching me in ways that make me quiver.
How I miss the sparkle of eyes that find me utterly amazing.
How I miss the softness of warm lips that make me feel like flying.
How I miss the tender embrace of arms that won't let go...
Most of all… how I miss having someone to talk to who completely understands my thoughts, my moods, my feelings.
There was a time when I'd beg and cry in front of you to see if you'd stop the pain.
Then I'd cry alone behind locked bathroom doors or underneath soft, cushioned pillows.
Now, I'm just numb to the pain that hounds me.
Trapped in an endless cycle of abuse that won't release me…
JACQUELINE MENDEZ, who writes under the name JAX, has a Masters Degree in Education. A former schoolteacher, she is currently working on her writing on a full-time basis. She is the author of HEART OF THE JAGUAR, www.heartofthejaguar.com, and "A Shadow to Call Her Own" (Amazon short). Two of her stories appear in CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. Visit her web site at www.writingjax.com.
SPRING AWAKENING
by Olga Valle-Herr
The spring air blows from the south
A scent of orange blossoms drifts my way.
Tree branches sway in a wild dance,
Wind chimes play an unceasing melody.
Blackbirds dart, circle together like old friends.
Dozens perch on the telephone line
like a string of black pearls against the blue sky.
The early sunbeams peek through the leaves,
rays of gold kissing the earth,
jewels twirling through gleaming dew.
The sun, shining brighter as time goes by,
sends shafts of light through the glass door.
Golden glass motes fly around
like stardust sprinkled in the room.
Austrian crystals hanging by the window
reflect rainbow prisms on the walls--
lovely fairies dancing in tune to speed of light.
It's that enchanting time of year when birds sing
And tulips sprout and shout, IT’S SPRING!
OLGA VALLE-HERR earned her Bachelor of Social Work with honors from the University of Texas-Pan American. Since her retirement, she takes creative writing classes. She is working on her first book of poems. Her work appears in CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. Olga enjoys reading, writing and spending time with her family. Contact Olga.
POEM OF THE MONTH
when i'm gone
by Charles Mariano
i write
page after page
endless miles of ink
never stop
it's like,
i have to make sure
to get it all out
date it, sign it
then race to the next
it's like,
while i write
this mindless
furious pace,
i imagine people
historians
stumbling on this cave,
white gloves
flashlights
examining my words
long after i'm gone
sifting, sorting
yellowed, dusty pages
studying
every intricate
idiotic
twist and turn
a forensic feast
the life and times of...
"gifted scholar,
genius,
ahead of his time"
can't stop
not now
not ever
just in case
it's important
just in case
today's
my last...word
cm
1994
CHARLES MARIANO ("cm") is a contributor to CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. He was born and raised in the Central Valley town of Merced, California and currently lives in Sacramento, California. A state employee, Charles writes in the basement of the government building after hours. In his own words, "Reclusive, elusive, and otherwise quiet. There are no lights, only words. Through decades of confused living, a survivor, and sometimes, if the day goes well, a writer."
RAINDROPS
by Heather J. Kirk
He washes windows
in the rain, clearing
away dust-filled
drops that washed the
sky, flinging wetness
like Pollack’s paintbrush
and laughing from the
outside.
He leaves bubbles,
to blow away in the
wind and water, as we
drive through thunder
and light.
"Raindrops" previously appeared in The Crazy Child Scribbler, Issue 44, July 2005.
HEATHER J. KIRK is a writer, photographer, and graphic designer. A recipient of a Vermont Studio Centers Poetry Fellowship, she has published a book of poetry titled "We" and contributed to CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. Her photography has shown nationally. Subscribe to "Heather’s Arts Newsletter".
JULIE ANN PUJOL-KAREL is the director of the annual poetry program at The Hispanic Book Festival in Houston. She is the moderator of "Conversing through Poetry," an open mic poetry group that meets the 2nd Wednesday of each month at Barnes and Noble Copperfield, Houston. She was selected Juried Poet, 2004 Houston Poetry Fest and is the author of two poetry books, IMPOSIBLE OLVIDAR and IMPOSSIBLE TO FORGET (2007). A third book of poetry, DEL OTRO LADO DEL OCEANO / ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE OCEAN will be released by May 2008. Julie has an AA Degree in Psychology and is the proud grandmother of two children and five grandchildren. Contact Julie.
All poems are copyrighted by their respective authors.
'Tis the Fairest of Seasons--Sweet May!
--Traditional Hymn
SOLAR AWAKENING
by Floriana Hall
The wonder of nature --
Delicious and invigorating sunshine
Abruptly alters winter’s wistful days,
Individual burdens are lightened
By the self-luminous orb’s brilliant rays.
Heaven’s remedy --
Source of light shines pure through the clouds,
An antidote for gloomy alienation
Elevating melancholy spirits
By plucking sadness from God’s work of creation.
Warmth --
This brilliant terrestrial day-star,
Like laughter, melts dark and despotic despair,
A cure for the season’s bleakness,
Colorful daffodils intercept repair.
Sunrise --
Never fails to enrich
The glory of refreshing daybreak.
Healing, not shadows, when facing the sun,
Splendor of reflection in a lake.
Sunlight --
Conquers the darkest disposition
Like the petal of a flower, new life reborn,
Sunbeams restore rejuvenated sensations,
Happiness, like a sunbonnet, finally worn.
This poem was previously published in THE SANDS OF RHYME (1997).
SYCAMORE
by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
My friend stopped today. We stood
by the sycamore, its old gray bark
loosened, fragmented, clattering
through the leaves, falling
to the grass with a thud
that makes the cat jump.
The bark lay in sheaves
of irregular curls on the trunk.
Our fingers reached high to spring it free.
Hands glided over the sly
green-gold silk of new skin.
We mentioned the troubles
that brought her, sinking bags
under her eyes, drawing fine lines on her face
but we became lost
in the shedding, renewal.
She left, heart lighter, mind loose.
I had done nothing to help.
The tree did all the work.
PATRICIA WELLINGHAM-JONES has written DON'T TURN AWAY: Poems About Breast Cancer and END-CYCLE: Poems about care giving, 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, she has a longtime interest in 'healing writing' and the benefits people gain from writing and reading their work together. Her web site is www.wellinghamjones.com
WAITING FOR SPRING
by Marjory Stone
Sunset over snow capped hills
Trails of white on forest green
Flat icy river,
Birds circling over for their catch
Stillness,
Before the dawn
Footprints on the ice,
Otter, heron, geese
Waiting for Spring
Stalks of brown
Reaching for sunlight
Clouds mingling with the blue
The sound of colors, still
Not here
MARJORY STONE retired to Hawaii, where she was raised. She enjoys gardening, writing, oil painting, reading, swimming and surfing. Past hobbies include licensed pilot and skiing. Marjory has three sons and five grandchildren. Contact Marjorie.
