Classic 70's Chick (V2) By Michael Lee Johnson Classic 70's chick scent of these times gold digger want to be. Poet & scholar stuck on T.S. Eliot “The Waste Land.” She tracks down a few stray men, prospect hunks, & greenback dreams. Her long legs stretched out beneath this dinette table, these high wooden heels hang … Continue reading Classic 70’s Chick
Saskatchewan Sky
Saskatchewan Sky By Michael Lee Johnson Saskatchewan sky, just a preview of love, chip off an edge of prairie chip an edge off winter- and opening multiple eyes toward spring. They-lovers, find themselves near evening bush fire- great seal fish and open lake, cuddle together- so wonderful there- where she comes from, where did she … Continue reading Saskatchewan Sky
Into the Whipsaw
By Ken Allen Dronsfield In this world of heartless consumption waste of human life to the whipsaw; children shot dead while at recess never did so little mean so much then when two deer in a field saw you and you saw them nothing else mattered... as neither blinked. self-righteous take aim. the pious … Continue reading Into the Whipsaw
With Honesty Comes Rain
By Ken Allen Dronsfield As horse hooves pound upon hard clay and rock trail dusty, water stained curtains move in gentle humid breezes. Thunder reigns o'er the lands off in the distant mountains here, it's quiet, tough to breathe spiders tiptoe across the table. Glistened tears fall in puddles swollen red eyes pray for … Continue reading With Honesty Comes Rain
“Step Through Summer”
By Allison Grayhurst Dying for my thoughts to fade into an amnesiac slur, not judge my convalescent love. Waiting for sleep to move to a higher octave, away from guilt, blame and artful blindness. The light that falls forever into the gullies of souls and skulls … Continue reading “Step Through Summer”
Tickled By The Fire
By Ken Allen Dronsfield I've thrown myself into it; thrown myself in. And the fire has been lovely. It's flames jump, and tickle, leaping toward impossibility, beautiful stars above. So if today, my body is dragged down, the courage which hurled me into the heart of the flame has smoldered into mere embers. The knowledge … Continue reading Tickled By The Fire
Sonnet 103, Rose and Thistle
By Ken Allen Dronsfield The instrument of a torture is said to be born of a rose and thorns at dawn evil briers or brambles grasping tightly a deep snort of peppermint snuff to calm. Alight on a box of reddish apples or resting on a bed of fresh thistle working knives always sharper … Continue reading Sonnet 103, Rose and Thistle
Lorie
Lorie By Michael Lee Johnson Lorie, you want to see me clearly through this joy of my naked body avoiding the sweat of my emotions, just breathing on my neck rubbing this baseline of my groin- will not find us here again. Go away, leave me thinking louder than your breath- body moves quietly in … Continue reading Lorie
Poems by Laura Potts
Friday The evening of your days I remember always on the other side of a hospice night. A funeral in my face, your ghostcandled fatherlight still laughing, bright, white in the winter of your age. The world in your ember days lit up its lights in a biblical rain. Long and far, the … Continue reading Poems by Laura Potts
A Peep Through The Window Of Heaven
A million million spermatozoa All of them alive: Out of their cataclysm but one poor Noah Dare hope to survive. And among that billion minus one Might have chanced to be Shakespeare, Another Newton, a new Donne - But the one was Me. - Aldous Huxley She was just the shy type. She was … Continue reading A Peep Through The Window Of Heaven
Academy of the Heart And Mind 