TABLE OF CONTENTS - POETRY, page 1

Storm Surge - Karin Lindgren
Abandoned Heart - Martin D Boutte
Redness - Muhamed Veletanlic
Trees - Gilad Skyte
An Ode to Daedalus In Twenty Verses - Ed Glomski
Last Concerto - Gina Page
Why Worry? - Ed Glomski
The Hunter - Paul Roe
Point Lobos - Karin Lindgren
"To myself - a Gift" - Paul F. Kisak
Humanity - Mark Norman
Good Manners - Paul Nachbar
Entelechy - Maria Claudia Faverio
After a Particularly Long Period of Hot Weather - Sean MacNiven
Exit - T.G. “Torg” Hadley
The Land of Spam - Paul Nachbar
The Impossible - Paul Nachbar
Party of Ten - Paul Nachbar
Sonnet - Paul Nachbar
Hum – Mark Norman

Storm Surge - Karin Lindgren

Across the cobbled sky, on wheels of wind,
Tumbrel clouds come charged with tilting rage.
Nothing turns true: Rims forged by lightning bend;

Spokes anchored in quiet circles disengage
Themselves, spin off the gravity of hubs.
Tumbrel clouds come, charged with tilting rage,

To fling their sparks where insurrection throbs
Among the moon-clocked tides. Sprung waves unchain
Themselves, spin off the gravity of hubs.

The order of the past, in myth contained,
Is too unbending for the stormy present.
Among the moon-clocked tides, sprung waves unchain

The pulse that maps the rhythmed veins of currents
Beneath the surging surface, never still,
Yet too unbending for the stormy present.

As tumbrel clouds plow fire-flooded rills
Across the cobbled sky, on wheels of wind,
Beneath the surging surface, never still,
Nothing turns true. Rims forged by lightning bend.

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Abandoned Heart - Martin D Boutte

i pass through your lens
and breach the broken fence
picturesque, down-trodden
alluring but forgotten
i sit the tattered swings
hang the rusted bars
brittle see-saw beckons
though i know it will leave scars
i wished upon a star
you looked so from afar
lush little playground dream
are others just as green?
perhaps sunny, happy, and new
is the thing to do
years of use abandoned you
but here it rained today
i think i'll stay

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Redness - Muhamed Veletanlic

O redness
Tie me to your thigh
So appropriately blunt
Bluntly to my eye

Glow, so fine and polite
Like a red wine
Slip through my throat
Down to my gut

And never return
To my acrid mind

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Trees - Gilad Skyte

trapped in never ending dues
reminding others of their own
every soul requires a muse
even that of our mad mane clone

they seem like floating smiles and sorrow
rocking , bobbing in the night
escape is the key to our own raw woe
end is near I see the light.

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An Ode to Daedalus In Twenty Verses - Ed Glomski

Athena's student, truly blessed,
As architect and craftsman,
Daedalus was the very best,
Inventor in all Athens.
A sculptor and mechanic too,
This gifted son of Ares who,
Mentored young Talus, then,
Showed a dark and deadly side.

Talus, although still a boy,
With genius too great to conceal,
Created not some children's toy,
But Compass, saw and potter's wheel.
To Daedalus it was evident,
That Talus, so intelligent,
Would shadow his accomplishments,
And by this he could not abide.

To go and see the city lights,
Of the great metropolis
Together in the mad moonlight,
They scaled the Acropolis.
Then Daedalus did the dark dark deed,
Young Talus, totally deceived,
By Daedalus malevolent.
Was cast unto the pavement.

Daedalus for this deed so vile,
Suffered through a public trial,
Punishment was banishment,
Out of Athens, Daedalus went,
And he sailed forth to Crete,
In his dishonorable retreat,
There he mixed with the elite,
And King Minos he did meet.

With King Minos he did dwell,
And as a craftsman served him well,
Until with false cow he did fool,
Poseidon's fire-breathing bull,
He put Pasiphae inside,
She who had been Minos' bride,
With the beast Pasiphae mated,
For this she was evil fated,

To be known as the one who bore,
The monster called the Minotaur
Body of man but head of bull,
To hide it Daedalus did tool,
A labyrinth so intricate,
It had no clues to indicate,
A way to find one's way about,
Nor out from in, nor in from out.

To keep the hideous Minotaur fed,
Athenian youths were forfeited,
Not one of them had yet survived,
Until great Theseus arrived.
Ariadne, Minos' daughter,
Smitten, would not see him slaughtered,
So to Daedalus she went,
And to her, advice he lent.

Theseus, royal, strong and bold,
Did as Ariadne told,
Took along a ball of string,
That he kept on unwinding,
Till face to face, in that dark place,
With grit, grimace and Godly grace,
He'd felled the hideous Minotaur,
Then traced the string back to the door.

When the labyrinth was solved,
Minos knew Daedalus was involved,
So he did retaliate,
And dealt to him an evil fate.
He locked crafty Daedalus,
Along with young son Icarus,
Into the labyrinth he'd made,
But Daedalus was unafraid.

Gathering Feathers, wax and strings,
Crafty Daedalus made them wings,
He told Icarus to beware,
Don't fly too low, and to take care,
Not to fly too close to the sun,
Or his escape would be undone.
Then off they flew into the air,
Like Gods they looked to people there.

But Icarus young and petulant
Took no concern on where he went,
Full knowing that it was taboo,
Close up to the sun he flew,
There his waxen wings did melt,
And the death blow he was dealt.
Icarus went down and down,
Into the sea where he was drowned.

Daedalus fished lifeless body,
From the gurgling, bubbling sea.
Then on an island in the area,
Daedalus buried Icarus,
And that place is known to us,
As the Island of Icaria,
Surrounding waters came to be,
Known as the Icarian Sea.

To Sicily went Daedalus,
Here he met King Cocalus,
And Daedalus again became,
A man of fortune and some fame.
But angry Minos, King of Crete,
sought him with a sailing fleet,
And he too came to Sicily,
Over the Icarian Sea.

To thread a string through winding shell,
Was a puzzle Minos knew full well,
Could be solved by but one man,
Presented it to the Sicilian
King who said "We can do this",
Then took the shell to Daedalus.
Not knowing the shell's origin
He solved the puzzle there and then.

In one end Daedalus drilled a hole,
And used an ant like a little mole,
He tied to it a gossamer string,
Then sent the ant into the thing,
At the other end he rubbed honey goo.
The ant then, pulled the string straight through.
Thinking that he had done well,
He handed Cocalus back the shell.

Minos stayed as Cocalus's Guest
But cunning Daedalus knew best.
Seeing that he'd be detected,
Cocalus's daughters he selected,
As allies to use in his defense,
In attempting to dispense,
Mighty Minos and his quest,
Of putting Daedalus to rest.

These daughters loved dear Daedalus,
And would always make a fuss,
Over the mechanical toys,
He'd crafted for them to enjoy.
With the daughters he did meet,
To plan with cunning and deceit,
To deal a painful, swift defeat,
To mighty Minos, King of Crete.

In Cocalus's bathing hall,
A secret pipe they did install,
From high above it made a path,
From rooftop to the royal bath.
In a move cunning and scathing,
One daughter got King Minos bathing,
Daedalus and the other daughter,
Took his life with scalding water.

Cocalus too, knew of the deed,
And Cretans he did mislead,
Proclaimed horrific accident,
The corpse to them he did present,
And the Cretans did believe,
With Minos' body they did leave.
Conspiracy was not suspected,
So Daedalus was undetected.

In Sicily did Daedalus stay,
With architecture on display,
And buildings built by his direction,
Under Cocalus's protection,
Inventing much, enjoying life,
With metal, clay and sculpting knife.
And as we know, his destiny,
Was fame throughout the centuries.-

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Last Concerto - Gina Page

What a flood of tears!
Enough to drown the players on the stage.
One hell of a damp and silent bowing out
on my part.

I will miss that laugh,
those arpeggios of giggles
and indignant squeaks at imagined insults.

Hot August humour, it was
elephilipantine.
Foolish epigrams on sprinklers
inside books by Wittgenstein.

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Why Worry? - Ed Glomski

Through traffic I traveled,
Frenzied and frazzled,
Trying to keep up with today,
A man in a hurry,
Filled full up with worry,
Displeasure, disdain and dismay.
When stopped at a stoplight
I saw such an odd sight,
An old order Amish display,
In his buggy with horse,
He proceeded on course,
As he crossed he looked over my way,
With a fine Amish style,
He gave a wave and a smile,
that washed all my worries away.
So sophisticated,
Life, simply stated,
Is too complicated today!

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The Hunter - Paul Roe

A shot's path is linear,
An elk's, irregular,
But their marriage is forever.

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Point Lobos - Karin Lindgren

Through drapes of mist jaundiced by sulphur haze, .
The sun, a lurid looking glass,
Heliographs the crisis of the waves:
Confusion strobes its S - 0 - S
From lambent wrinkles on the oceans face.

Here where the wolves have trod, the grass is bruised.
The traces of predacious prowl,
Echoed by lupine's purple howl.
Refute the testimony of mute clues.
In our disputed claim, we cannot choose
Which shapes and shadows to recall
Here, on the rim of memory, where all
By the seals' incessant barking stand accused.

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"To myself - a Gift" - Paul F. Kisak

Keep your eye on the music
And your ear to the light
Smell the shy tenderness
And touch the stars of night

Enhance your senses
And let them explore
The benefits to come
Yield much to adore

So much is unseen
And more unexplored
Intuition can thrive
When you open the door

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Humanity - Mark Norman

Maybe that's the first step to death,
when your not there to say goodnight to humanity.
The final step may be
when humanity is not there to say goodnight to you.

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Good Manners - Paul Nachbar

If you sit on my head, it's not much disgrace
But please just attempt not to fart on my face;
If you lay on my bed, it's not shame and doom
But try not leave all your crap in my room;
If you beat me at games, it is not a big loss
Just know that from now on you'll bear every cost;
If you grab at my ass, I will not despair
But please do not ruffle what's left of my hair;
If you ruin my game or ruin my art
Please do not swallow what's left of my heart;
If you're taking my job or stealing my wife
Just try to be tender while wielding that knife;
If you're breaking my faith or breaking my pride
Just try to remember that all of us lied;
If you're sharing my cash or sharing my food
Just put on a grin and pretend a fine mood;
If you need my advice, then just take it and smile
Although you are cursing me all of this while;
If you have or have not remember what's what
To those who have nothing you do have a lot;
So follow these rules and be wise and good
And we will not kill you in this neighborhood.

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Entelechy - Maria Claudia Faverio

Entelechy
like scream
cracking the bell jar
of potentiality,
colours unfist
like rage
in cauldron of shadows,
step off into visions,
transparency of air.

Isn’t it beautiful,
this shattered singularity
glittering like polished horn
in the censured black
of night?

In splendid solitude,
the black hole of the mind
has shut itself off
from the morose truisms
of the macrocosm,
à rebours
like drunken god.

Nadir of unawareness
pulls itself up
into exponential blue,
brighter than Weltanschauung,
glass eyes
behind torn mask.

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After a Particularly Long Period of Hot Weather - Sean MacNiven

Lightning strobes the evening dark in streaks,
As long the waited storm now strikes the land,
With dashing humours growling how it speaks!
As fallen, drought's retracted stalling brand,
Now drops attacking earth like tiny beaks,
And I with pen and Chianti in hand,
Pause in the hope that words from chaos will,
Then coalesce like moisture in a still...

Now all but passed like opportunity,
Steel fetters laid where spirits failed to act,
My mistress as my warden oversees,
That fits no longer seize this drying tract,
All health and home and work's morality,
Where orange washes black the kingdom sacked,
How safe and hale the life of modern man,
How weak and stale and lifeless each day's span...

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Exit - T.G. “Torg” Hadley

We “strut and fret”
Our “hours upon the stage”
As Old Bill, sage Bard, hath said…
Gentle Friend, look not to the wings,
Nor to Exeunt stage left or right

“Rage, Rage against the Dying of the Light”,
Fiery-eyed, tousle-maned, as wild as Dylan cried…
He did not go gently
Into that Dark Night…

They who say they “don’t know how to act”
Play the Fool, in deed, in fact
We take our cues, acting truly to our
Character

Which we have molded by each line
We have spoken
By each gesture we have displayed
By the evocation or revocation
Of each emotion playing upon our
Face

Other characters’ comings and goings
Perturb us, conjure Love true
Or fantastic desires
We dance with the lame
Cajole the Princes
Seduce the Princesses

Whilst we struggle to recall our next line
Craving the next cue to save us…

We not the Playwright be,
Nor Groundlings, either
If one falls upon the sword or quaffs
Bitter poison, if honour be betrayed
Or our very Heart asunder broken

Play your part, as you will:
the Play must and will
Go on Within you/Without You
Whether you be Quick or Dead…

Hasten not thy Exeunt
Fellow Player for I crave thy Company
Brave Scenes are to Follow
Applause comes from beyond the footlights
And from within, from Heaven
Pray join hands with me and bow gratefully

At curtain call…
It shall supercede our Highest Expectations.

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The Land of Spam - Paul Nachbar

SPAM, for anybody who needs a translation, is a food-like substance produced somewhere in the Midwest of the United States. I don't mean to insult SPAM of course or naturally to extol it. I merely describe it as well, a utilitarian food which can probably keep one alive but is basically lacking in anything special, flavorful, interesting etc, though it has all the basic food ingredients and is cheap enough for almost anybody to afford. . Now that of course sounds or could be interpreted as snobbery, which it isn't. When there is nothing else to "eat", one eats SPAM, as I have (well, a few times), or even glorifies in it a sense.That is, you glorify in a typical psychological reversal something you basically despise, because there is no alternative to doing this AND keeping some sense of basic social and human pride. As in the Medieval rhyme of "peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old." Now, probably in those times, anybody who sat around the pot who criticized this peas porridge --which does not sound very good even when compared with SPAM--was probably shunned, rebuked or sometimes even killed as a "heretic" (bad egg, nihilist, idiot, traitor, communist, socialist, nihilist, witch,Nazi, fascist, lunatic,sorcerer,fool,ingrate, wretch whatever). Of course, among the upper ordrers then and now--and who really keeps exact records of how anybody got to to those upper orders--it was probably virtually forbidden for anybody to eat peas porridge or well SPAM.except perhaps on special occasions , sort of the Medieval equivalent I guess of National Brotherhood week. THen I guess everybody in the upper orders went back to eating deer and boar and other delicacies, poached or not, an all the people in the lower orders went back to eating peas porridge hot or cold. Anything else of course would be a social disgrace and naturally the local policemen could take care of such social disgraces quite readily. I doubt they kept many records on such things then, nor do they now of course.Why did they do this? Because they knew then what they know now,without the biochemistry or nutritional studies or factories or advertising and marketing or mass transportation or statistics or demographic market surveys, that you are what you eat. Duh.If the King does not eat like a King he does not feel like a king. Of course this bothers the peasants quite often, or more often than most histories reveal, but basically you want a King or Queen or well President, even if you are a President, so that the other peasants do not kill YOU and so that the other Kings etc do not kill you either. Very simple Duh. You bow and "conform" So, under some pressure of what I interpret here as necessity but others may easily perceive as "fooling around" or worse, I atempt this poem:

In The Land of SPAM
(1)

In Olden Days before Machines
Before skyscrapers and the Bomb
Before TV and many things
It seems back then that things were calm;

In Olden Days well things were cruel
But also they were sometimes kind
Alas some wise folks played the fool
Or sometimes lost their bloody mind;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though dears I think
It's most the same

In Ollden Days most ate stale peas
Which lingered in the village pot
Some had their boar and caviar
But most I think, mainly had not;

In Ollden Days they had the King
Which was perhaps both good and bad
Het let you live, which was quite nice
Alternatives were somewhat sad;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though dears I think
It's most the same

In Olden Days you served the King
And in his own way he served you
Revolts of course par for the course
But Revolutions very few;

The other peasants could be bad
The other Kings sometimes got mad
And deep down you were mostly glad
For the little that you had;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though dears I think
It's most the same;

(2)

In Modern Times well things are Great
We've outgrown Medieval Things
The churches are far less ornate
We know that none of us have wings;

In Modern Times we all Agree
Or just Agree to Disagree
The peasants, workers, middle class
Can vote their say on Policy;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though most I think
It's just the same;

In Modern TImes it all is Swell
It's mostly Presidents not Kings
And anyone can rule the state
Though they keep quiet some other things;

In Modern Times it all is Swift
In Modern Times it all is Cool
Don't linger far behind the Group
Or else you'll end up as The Fool;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though most I think
It's just the same

In Modern Times things can go Smooth
And every needle fits it's groove
And every structure serves it's needs
I think, or else someone deceives?

In Modern Times things will go fast
It's best to twist or take or turn
And hold on tight to what you earn
It's clear that "decadents" dont last;

(3)
A plague it fell upon the land
I mean of course in Modern Times
And experts could not understand
Though poets choked on all their rhymes;

A plague it fell upon the land
And all folks knew that things were sad
The peasants and the rich folks too
And none of these were in this glad;

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though most I think
It's just the same

A plague it fell upon the land
And all felt heavy in the end
All energy was caught in gloom
And no-one here could long pretend;

A plague it fell upon the land
And everything just turned to SPAM
You lived but you regretted it
And none could simply say "I am"

They teach us such
None are to blame
Though most I think
It's just the same

(4)

uh,this part as yet to be written concerns some anecdote about their catching a wizard in the woods..who had the power to change at least some of this SPAM into a type of necessary "caviar", improve some social conditions and do all of this without stirring up too much resentment. ..his despair at his own mixed nature of good and evil, confusion, resistance and other things. and ultimately some form of comitragic
ending..er I hope, including an ending for him which <gulp> is not entirely uncomfortable or dire either.....

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The Impossible - Paul Nachbar

The pain I think impossible
I can't say what I mean
The coalmines and the welfare state
Of course the bourgeois dream

My father not a lovely boss
Though mostly not so mean
The experts that he hired to keep
This engine running clean.

You want to sing a song of this
You're really on your own
Some throw their roses at your feet
While others cry , atone.

Some say you shouldnt' have a heart
Some say give up your mind
Some say to follow your fine art
While others lag behind

Some say you really understand
Some say, just dance and sing
Some throw you down into a ditch
While others crown you king.

Some say well just be practical
Which tears your world apart
Where is here the humanity
Although I sense some art?.

Alas the situation drives you mad
There's nothing else to do
The easy ways are always sad
Or don't apply to you..

My mother here was on my side
Though sometimes she denied
Perhaps this simply was to stir
That paradox inside.

I think I can forgive them both
Though who could understand?
What's loved in places elsewhere loathed
Or just quite simply banned?

The markets they are filled with goods
All shiny and all bright
My mind here just spells out shoulds
And fears some endless night.

And everything I have of this
And nothing that I own
Between two states I mainly pace
So utterly alone.

The experts smile into my face
And say forget the past
We all forgive your fine disgrace
But decadence won't last.

The experts do not seem to like
When I attempt to think
They frown or yell or sneer or cry
At such a hue and stink..

My mother knows the truth of this
But not what I should do
She says a door is opened here
That just exists for you.

I'm hesitant and filled with fear
Is any of this real?
I think I've thrown my life away
While others make a deal.

And here my mind comes to a halt
Unusual and odd
Is World here just a thing of Man
Or something come from God?

I canot here articulate
And just say "I don't know"
I trace or merely indicate
The paths that one can go.

Let scholars probe these lonely lines
To prove some point of view
Each with positions long assumed
But this is nothing new.

The pain seems quite impossible
I can't say what I mean
The coalmines and the welfare state
Of course the bourgeois dream.

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Party of Ten - Paul Nachbar

Party of ten
All very good men
It's how or when
With parties of ten;

Party of nine
Could be divine
You don't resign
With parties of nine;

Party of eight
It's love or hate
Well it could be great
With parties of eight;

Party of seven
Perhaps it is heaven
Much could be done
With parties of seven;

Party of six
Could play some tricks
Or else a good mix
With parties of six;

Parties of five
They fight or thrive
It's quite a hive
With partites of five;

Parties of four
Some will adore
It's not a chore
With parties of four;

Parties of three
Often you see
Sadness or glee
With parties of three;

Parties of two
What most people do
Ancient and new
With parties of two;

Parties of one
Sometimes are fun
But most are undone
With parties of one;

Parties of zero
I think here of Nero
Thus fell the hero...
With parties of zero;

Parties of less
I must confess
God here must bless
With parties of less.

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Sonnet - Paul Nachbar

Merlin, now, lay down your tools
And Thomas put away your trains
You've done your jobs and done them well
So what is gained from further pains?
The thing will function as it is
Your spirit though is bound in chains
Inside that realm where all seems His;
She cried for all they did to you
Which made you leave so much behind
You saw the Real but not the True
And made a fortress of your Mind
She's not below, she's not above:
Not Good or Evil or Resigned
Just enter in the name of Love.

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Hum – Mark Norman

Hum-drum
Rum-dumb
isn't life so

Birth
Adolescents
Adulthood, the way it goes

Legacy, sagacity
on what grand
road no one knows

Grandeur, splendor
decay of the soul

Hopeless, but mope less
sent ahead of the others

Scouting the moonscape
that's us, but
the future is cold.

Ramifications, justifications
meaningless without a solution
Why, why, the question unanswered

But, if answered, such woe to us all.

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