Poetry

Staring at the Nameless Octopus

by Jill Albright

Staring at the nameless octopus
under the sea
and he's staring back up
at you and me.
He knows what we're thinking
you better believe.
We all want to know his name.
He's considering designing
a shirt that says "Joe"
so we'll all stop staring
and leave.

© 2011

Author's Note: "I write a lot. Sometimes poems form before anything else. I just start thinking about something, especially something like the nameless octopus. Utilizing other forms of expression can be a little more difficult for me, because while I am doing that, my mind is still trying to make me write. If it is something really amazing, I will just go ahead and write about it too."

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Abandon Not Joy

by Sally Koetsveld

Dark, but secure this tunnel,
No leafy spies here.
Children run in joyous abandon.
No talk of crawling.
No fear of daylight.
No. Dark. Dark, and womb-like.
Sanctuary.
Safe.

© 2011

Author's note:

"I've been playing with different stories and art forms in response to 'Back To The Garden', and nothing felt right.

This poem erupted as I thought about children trying to live in a world where running and playing was forbidden, and daylight seemed to bring danger."

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I Am There

by Cecily Israel


In through your gate I creep
You do not see me
But I am there

Past your trees and flowers
Winding on your stone path
I am there

Between the blades of grass
I whisper
But you don't see me

Little ripples in your birdbath
right under your kitchen window
Oh yes, I see you

Little noises
Creaks and groans
I make those

Your windchimes jingle
And startle you
I did that

Don't bother trying to catch me
...
You won't

I am the wind
That passes through your garden
At night.


© 2011

A Sonnet After Reading too Much Poe

by Anabel Portillo


She was his Juliet, his Lenore
Ophelia, Ligeia, his Annabel Lee
His tragic maiden, his exquisite corpse
even in death she was his.

But she crossed over so young
he couldn't, wouldn't let her leave.
Instead of gold coin for the boatman
in her mouth he sowed an acorn seed.

When the spring time comes again
her body will be soft as clay,
her coffin rotten by a thousand rains.

The wind will blow her whispered song.
He'll kiss her leaves, caress her trunk,
her bones embraced by roots, never alone.


© 2010

Change

by Lihua Emily Bai

change
is
the
yellow
of the moon
in summer when fire blooms
below
with marshmallows
sinking into puffs
of sweet black
funerals

change
is
the
morning
snow
all quiet
no breath - the world
is about
to die.


© 2010

Once, the night desert was nearly our death

by Val Trullinger


Once, the night desert was nearly our death.
Sand ran in sheets of sharp water down our
dry skin; flooded through my clothes and parched mouth.
Adan cursed me. Hot wind whipped my mare’s black
hair, and her bridle sang, as Bilal prayed.
His muezzin’s call now: God, give us water.

It was two days since we last drank water.
Two days off our path. I wondered when death
would come to claim us. Perhaps if we prayed
devoutly, Bilal said, we would find our
way to a riyadh. But in a storm’s black
night, all prayer is only sounds in a mouth.

Giving up on God, I covered my mouth,
the better to keep my hot breath’s water.
Adan fell deeply into a cold black
mood, muttering how he might bring me death.
We had long since passed any hunger; our
swift end a fate for which I now half-prayed.

Vampiric Kitty

by Ticia Drake Isom


A vampiric kitty has come out to play.
Having tired of mice, it wants much larger prey.

It revels in stalking and toying, it’s true.
Which is why it’s out now and it’s looking for you.
It’s sharpened its fangs, and its claws, and its wit,
Praying for game that’s much smarter than it.

Its thoughts dwell no more on the light of the day.
It lives for the night, and the hunt, and the fray.
So watch out dear reader, when walking alone,
Check behind, and above you, and under each stone.

For who’s to know when this cat will appear,
It could be tonight, or it could be next year.
So let’s all remember to never delay,
For the kitty is out there
And it just wants to play.


© 2009, 2010