by Terry MacDonnell Cloistered upstairs, We were not allowed to see Father When he came. However, one fateful Sunday We crept down the stairs To sneak a peek at him. There, at the foot of the stairs, His face livid with rage, He was twisting Mother’s arm Behind her back (Trying to compel her To …
Category Archives: Poetry
4th of
the booming of these damn fireworks excite everyone young and OLD with their ooohs and ahhhs contribute to such stupidity the glare lights the heavens and makes the angels visible to a clear vision this seems like a good time to be alone with desperation – Johnny Cooper
Good Night
Spread Softly about my soul sleep, like a blanket, tucks me in for the night – Scarlett Faith
Wrap Your Nuclear Arms Around Me
Diane
Diane has fallen on hard times. She’s on the street Bumming cigarettes And asking for change. The men with their bottles Are in the back alley. Diane trades her body For a swig of whiskey Or a taste of speed. She often loses her shoes But manages to get new ones somehow (Perhaps from the …
Lunch Counter Song
I only want mustard on half. And I want you to put a large M on it. And when I ask: “Did I pay for it?” Deep down, it means I want you to tell me I don’t have to. – Chris Stroffolino
Untitled
the beggar’s woman is a doughnut from a trash barrel behind a supermarket whom he loves more than fire wine and far loftier in context than any diamond or trinketed women in ceremonial dress casting glances that are atoms bonding its eye is clear and there is no doubt that its powdered surface is just …
The Light Bulbs From Home
A millioon billion parsecs from the post office, or roughly ¶One stellar mis-mash But snow nor rain nor black hole singularity Shall stay this courier from his duty The light bulbs from home. The light bulbs from home. I envision them strewn Unceremoniously thrown Like a mastodon’s hyoid bone Oh, no. The light bulbs from …
Seeing
stepping down upon the sand; it burns my soul it burns my man. I look upon the blyeyestering sun and see myself running fingers through my hair, feels so funny like I’m not there scratching&peeling these dead upon layers and see myself flapping my towel & the sand hitting others looking at sons putting lotions …
Once I Had a Dream
Once I had a dream. Full of sunshine and friends. I took good care of my dream, and fed it and cared for it– and it flourished. When I closed my eyes it was always there; waiting for me. And nobody knew about it. It was my own fantasy world; full of magic and love. …