Poems and Poetry


Spring | A Poem by Luther Seahand

The finest day of spring
Petals dance on sudden gales
Counting everyone
Before the sinking sun
Fly, fly little wings
Like love that never fails

Shadows begin to wake
To a chorus that is the night
Crickets fiddle, slow
Warblers whistle, low
Shine, shine velvet moon
Till last you fade from sight

Hear the sea in song
Where the swallows play and die
Starlight in the haze
Flicker fireflies, ablaze
Stay, stay gentle dream
Beneath the candles in the sky

Poem | A Poem by Emma Vasquez

No questions asked, no what no why,
Rushing by no time to cry,
No care to share, or why or where,
Too complicated, to be there,
A hurried yes to keep the peace,
Longing to be the one deceased,
Not knowing how to spend the time,
Is this real? Am I fine?!
Even so, nowhere to go,
You may not see them, they’re alone,
And even if the time did come,
You sit alone just feeling numb,
Shaking hands, a quick heartbeat,
Buzzing mind, hot, feeling weak,
Impulsive thoughts not carried through,
Don’t understand, can’t think of you,
Hysterical minds pushed away,
Will deal with it another day,
It doesn’t leave it stays right there,
Hidden in darkness it’s own lair,
Forced smiles and laughs so weak,
Can’t see forward all is bleak,
Pretending all is good and well,
That you’re fine l, it’s locked in hell,
Daily business, auto mode,
Getting by, all talk in code,
A living demon locked within,
Glazed over by the thoughts of sin,
A happy soul, once again?
No quick heartbeat, no impulse pain,
All laughter, hugs and smiles so sweet,
No more tears or curled up feet,
Day to day work is done,
Telling everyone that you have won,
But secretary you die inside,
Tears fall down it’s all a lie.

Song of the Boy | A Poem by Roy K. Austin

He is the boy with a wooden toy
and as now is never then,
he fashioned me as the man you see
and lives with me in the memory
that we visit again and again,

I don’t think how he is with me now
as we smoke in a tinker’s hollow,
as we wave and climb from the grasp of time
to have no sense for the morrow,

had lots of fun with a flying bomb
when the the search-lights combed the sky
’til the blasted fact of the broken glass
left uncle Jack with one eye!

What rumbled above left hope below
when sirens would wain and wax,
when hate fell in the dead of night
while lovers laid down on their backs,

and through it all as we recall
we shook at the apple – trees
and bruised we were as the windfall there
when the vicar was down on his knees,

when father came home with a shoulder roll
defending the northern seas,
to remember how he returned no more
from fighting a mad man’s disease,

how our world was large and endless
as we straddled a farmer’s mare
when we both would ride to the other side
where time has no purchase there;

to feel goodbye with the past inside
is a song of comfort and pain,
as I leave the boy with a wooden toy
to depart and return again.

Visit Roy’s website at roykaustin.weebly.com.

The Tender Toil of Matrimony | A Poem by Daniel Klawitter

First came Spring—
All rose-red and morning glory!
And then a mild Winter.

But the frost of futility could not reach
The River that sustains us.

And now, my dear,
At the end of the story—
I anticipate those Summer years to come:

When we turn gold like wheat
Ripe for the harvest.

There is no need to fear the farmer of us all.

For I am told that love never dies…
It just grows older and hides
On the other side of Fall.

Visit Daniel at http://about.me/dklawitter.

This Poet’s Work | A Poem by Daniel Klawitter

Writing these lines into being—
spinning out fate in a rhyme
of ink and meaning:

My own heart becomes the work
I’m weaving—
the tapestry I’ve chosen.

A life’s long labor is
hard ground broken—
but the rain reclaims fertility.

Inspiration and frustration

pen meet hand and paper.

My soul thirsting
for that elusive elixir
of clarity.

Visit Daniel at http://about.me/dklawitter.

Simultaneous Soul-Mates | A Poem by Ivan Jenson

We both talk
and chew gum
but not necessarily
at the same time
because while I am
coordinating my legwork
and my schedule for the
day or week
you are juggling family
friendship and career
in your attempt
to have it all
and eat soufflé too
then we manage to
connect in the
physical realm
that is
which in turn
overwhelms our
senses and overloads
our dreams which
a shot of
caffeinated sobriety
in the morning
when again we
both part ways
and join the rush
hour by hour
patiently waiting
to pool our resources
together again
and synchronize
our mostly shallow
swim through
each other’s
Olympic sized