Friday, 30 November 2012
I’ve a snozzle
For a distressingly putrefied pride,
In a milk-and-honeyed world.
A squeal for break-no-bones intentions?
Ha! Heads shake.
A puncture of confidence,
Into a tub, Scotch-fuddled.
We’re plunging into a flow,
Obliged to unsnarl riggings
To hitch that sort of pull.
You used to swank the whiskers
Of a tin lion.
By Christopher Barnes, UK
Sunday, 26 August 2012
You wear your clothes inside out
to confuse me.
You let me believe I am inside you.
a flood of light.
To feed you.
But my happiness is pallid and grotesque.
It blinds you instead.
That’s why I am still running.
Trying to keep you
from walking away.
A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published four collections of poetry: The Difference Between Shadows and Stars, Carrying Yesterday, Cognitive Distortion, and . . . And Other Such Nonsense. She has also published her work in national and international literary journals such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Writer's Gazette, and The Penwood Review. Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000191382454 and https://twitter.com/#!/poetess222.
They warned me my new boss was
The CEO was an elegant lady that
was all business.
She was thin as a rail and half a head
taller then me.
Smartly dressed in an navy blue
tailored business suit.
She had stoic sharp chiseled features.
Her words were clipped and she had
a low sounding male voice.
She wanted to know all about me
and stoically sat and listened.
There wasn't a hint of a smile on her
face when I told her I was a perpetrator
After ten minutes, she stood to signal
the interview was over.
Jumping to my feet, I was glad to
She took my hand and stared straight
into my eyes.
A subtle soft smile cut across her face
as I walked out the door.
Mike Berger is an MFA, PhD. He is a retired and writes poetry and short stories full
time. He has been writing poetry for less than two years. His work appear in seventy-one
journals. He has published two books of short stories and seven poetry chapbooks, He
is a member of The Academy of American Poets. poetry chapbooks, He is a member of
The Academy of American Poets.
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
in those days spent,
It's not too late to cross them off your list.
I saw it in your pocket.
I saw you place it there
in wed-locked circumstance,
across the stoney floor
Through smoke and dim lit forests
we grow and tackle to the ground,
our bodies, clothes
are smeared in blood and grit.
To be the act of violence
and dance with its ideas.
By Robert William Atherton