Sunday, December 17, 2017

Linda Imbler - One Poem

Circuit

The man in the machine,
or what is left of him
after sinking to his basest level.
Sewage of rumors and lies,
virulent strains of venom,
all protected
behind an anonymous firewall.
Racism on all fronts,
Sexism of all types,
Ageism for every generation.
He looks……..
She acts……..
Fill in the blanks
with hatred-laced,
vile commentary
expounded onin the crudest of terms.
Love of fellow man
suspended,
while the keyboard works overtime,
telling us who we should hate today,
and why.
Yet, we know not who is telling us so.
Secrecy rules,
websites by-lined with aliases,
truth lost in a maze of bits and bytes.
Zero and one,
the most powerful numbers on the planet.
It did not come to this overnight,
steady complacency
allowed it to blossom,
bloom into the most grotesque way
to categorize
and philosophize
thoughts and people.
There’s a great fear
for the future,
of mindless, impersonal automatons
replacing mankind’s intellect and compassion.
But now,
to our tremendous shock and grief,
we discover
they are already here,
and they already have.




Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.”  Her work has appeared in numerous journals. Linda’s creative process and a current, complete listing of sites which have or will publish her work can be found  at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com. This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player lives in Wichita, Kansas.

Monday, December 4, 2017

George Freek - One Poem

Alone In The Night
(After Lu Yu)

As I stare at the sky,
and the night deepens,
it seems like a hole
the stars fall into.
Trees wave like black
wands, and life moves on.
But it seems nearly over
before it’s begun. After
sixty years, that’s all I know.
I once had a cat,
and I also had a lover.
They died together.
I find I’m only able
to drink wine and laugh,
and I fear the future
will be just like the past.



George Freek is a poet/playwright living in Belvidere, IL. His poetry has reently appeared in West Trade Review; Off Course Jounal; The Ottawa Arts Review; Limestone Journal; and The Sentinel Literature Quarterly. His plays are published by Playscripts, Inc.; Lazy Bee Scripts; and Off The Wall Plays.
 

Sunday, December 3, 2017

G. Emil Reutter - Two Poems


High Pants and Roses

I found him one day bent at the
waist laying in the rose bed on the
corner and I thought he was dead
his pants rode high almost to his
chest and his Velcro sneakers were
undone, his glasses sideways on his
face. He had to be eighty and I
thought he had a heart attack so I
called 911 and when the EMT’s
arrived, they laughed, they knew
him, they knew he was drunk. I
saw him the next day smoking a
cheap cigar on a bench in the park
and asked how he was, he said life
sucks that his wife died a year back
and he had no one, that he drank
every day in the hope he would not
wake up the next, but he always did
He stood, headed to the bar to give
it another try.



Hunting

As dusk settles in, a conspiracy of sooty
ravens fly overhead, cat birds and sparrows
disappear quietly into the fall foliage of bushes
and evergreens, warrens of rabbits hide in
burrow, squirrels shake in tree top drey.
Pairs of ravens glide atop fence lines, dogs
are brought inside. As darkness falls, full
moon lights the sky, ghastly echoing croaks
fill the neighborhood as they feast on a meal.
An eerie quiet descends as the conspiracy
stretches across the sky on relaxed flowing
wingbeats back-lit by the moon.




G. Emil Reutter is a writer of stories and poems. Nine collections of his poetry and fiction have been published. He can be found at: https://gereutter.wordpress.com/about/



Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Lowell Jaeger - One Poem

Sugar-White Beaches

Such a never-ending winter, these months
of snow and ice and gloom.  We’ve lost
long hours again today, pushing back
last night’s leaden blanket of wet white,
mounding piles shoulder-high, towering
till they avalanche as if to mock our labors.

The wind whips our cheekbones red
and wet and raw, my wife and I,
our shovels lufting slush, lungs puffing
huffs and grunts . . . when, within a waking dream,
she says, That sugar-white beach
in Isla Mujeres, remember? I nod,

a touch of warmth, a blush, floods over me,
a smile.  Side-by-side we replay these memories,
wordlessly, relishing not just the mind’s rescue
but something bone-deep having bubbled up
like steaming waters from the earth’s core.

And I remember, as a kid, that same sensation,
a resurrection out of the depths of near hopelessness,
our schoolyard in late March beginning to thaw.
One brown patch of lawn opened where snows had receded,
and we gathered there all recess, huddled in awe.



Lowell Jaeger (Montana Poet Laureate 2017-2019) is founding editor of Many Voices Press, author of seven collections of poems, recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Montana Arts Council, and winner of the Grolier Poetry Peace Prize. Most recently Jaeger was awarded the Montana Governor’s Humanities Award for his work in promoting thoughtful civic discourse.