Daily Archives: December 22, 2006

“Night-Table” by Natalia Doan

on four legs
beside rumpled white
silent throughout
the howling night

a rest for lamps
and clocks and books
but no one ever seems to look
but no one ever seems to look
the light goes out
the noise drums on
no ears to hear their pecking song
time pauses (the arrival of dawn)
a few sweet moments,
then they're gone.

“Arguing With An Echo” by Rebecca Guile Hudson

I was arguing with an echo,
in the mountains near my home -

It made me feel less lonely,
not quite so all alone

For when I yelled, "Hush!" it shouted, "Hush!"
and back and forth we went,

Engaged in conversation
which clearly made no sense

Until the end of daylight,
when, all my energy spent,

I realized that the echo
is much like the universe

What I put out comes right on back,
no better & no worse

Whatever the words I shouted out,
it yelled right back at me,

Just as, in life, when my thoughts ring out
into the collective sea

(of consciousness that's all about,
so close we cannot see)

Thus does the universe reflect them back,
because it always mirrors me.


Arguing with an echo
is like arguing with life, itself

We'll never win, we'll never move,
we'll stay stuck upon a shelf

Way up high on the mountain top
where the echoing arguments fly,

& we won't get down & we can't go home
until we set our angers by.

“The Time of the Sun” by Natalia Doan

Now fire, cannons of triumph!
Noisily salute those dead and gone
(in a bang)
so they know freedom rang
and the sacrifice of those pawns
(who checked the king
and let victory ring)
whose lives have now traversed on.

Give proper respect
to those you ne'er knew,
but protected your life
while the danger passed through.
Salute those dead and gone

and the families who remain
(broken, yet strong)
know the pain of each chord
in the victory song.
Though times may be dismal,
and wrong things done,
the darkness will set
for the time of the sun.

“Funburned” by Natalia Doan

Sunglasses deflect UV Rays.
Sunscreen protects against wrinkles.
Lip balm wards off chapped lips,
and face wash keeps away pimples.

Thousands of protective products
can keep one looking young,
but I'd rather have a sunburn
than never have any fun.

“Major Fur” by Rebecca Guile Hudson

The cats are shedding major fur -
They drop their coats with every purr

Every time I pet, fur flies,
gets in my nose, gets in my eyes

What shall I do with all this fur?
I must do something, my friends concur

For the carpet now is not quite brown
where cascading cats have wandered 'round

And those who sit down in my chairs,
end up covered with fine, soft hairs

When from me their leaves they take,
a trail of fur-bunnies dogs their wake

What shall I do with all this fur?
I know! Another cat I'll make!

I'll build it very carefully,
use up all the cat hair fully
and sculpt myself a new & grand creation

Then all I'll need,
oh, yes, indeed
will be some act of godly animation

So my molded little ball of fur
will rise,
and stretch,
and start to purr

“For Air” by Lee Allison

In my mind you are a dream
That talks through a computer screen
After she finishes all the ice cream
A Thai girl only seventeen

Sometimes I think that you're a ghost
Who doesn't know her bodies lost
And haunts the waves of MSN
Until she finds her home again

But now I think you'll be there soon
For Laab Moo and Tom Yam Kung
To smile with family and with old friends
When your far away adventure ends

Sometimes when shopping at all the stores
Or after pushing Emmy out your door
Take a moment for your thoughts to stray
And remember your friends in the USA

“Autumn Return” by Rebecca Guile Hudson

In a beautiful rain, the trees
return their share of blue
Into the autumn air,
Back to the sky,

To reveal the gold and yellow sunshine
Hidden in their leaves

The rivers rise

In a beautiful rain, i
Float upon the pulsing winds
My liquid wings
Iridescence reflected
To the stars

As branches bare
Their souls to approaching winter

And all the rivers

“Goose ” by Natalia Doan

Between two worlds,
I stumble around.
The trees snicker
at my wobbly frame.
Muddy and solemn,
goose is my name.

In a slovenly, barren patch
of earth,
I reside.
And let the scenes and times pas by.
I rest atop the murky lake
and try to give,
but only take.

My belly is filled with grass I snatch.
I'm not the last; my eggs will hatch.
I am not tasty
nor am I witty.
These feathers reek
and are not pretty.
I eat 'til all that's left is gone,
at which point, I waddle on.

but I am stuck.
Stuck between the sky above and earth below,
with heavy wings and feet quite slow.
The trees snicker at my wobbly frame.
Muddy and solemn,
goose is my name.

“In Baton Rouge” by Vince Dill

Our thoughts of time travel
burnt up when Lester
sang the blues.

He moaned like a spaniel,
digging deep

Smacking the past in the chin,
he dumped a big lead ball
in-a barrel-a black syrup.
It sank down below
the Mason-Dixon line.

He gurgled in slow-mo
then stirred the stew.

He cut a melon in half
with a baseball bat,
then stopped to take a crap
In Baton Rouge.

“I Beg to Die While You Still Love Me” by Ted Aronis

While I do the things I must and make my daily way
I think of time so quickly past closing in on me
You love me now but I fear as things proceed
Focused plainly on the tasks I have I put those thoughts aside
But alone these things fall back upon my tormented mind

My time as whole and independent will rapidly draw to close
This malady reduces me to waste as I stumble in my stride
Each faltered gesture nears me to my deepest horror
I fear the very worst to try and fail and work and worry
To be left alone and a helpless pile staring at some ceiling

First to drop what I hold dear
Then to walk a stumbling pace to suddenly walk no more
Then to stumble on my words and to find it hard to reason
Then to fall and to be trapped in that lonely bed
My faculties withered and my soul in full rebellious treason
I beg to die while you still love me

“Images in Glass” by Lee Allison

I touch the frosted window. My fingerprint-
A clear dot on a portrait of nothing,
A spy hole to the room inside-

A young man is reclined on a sofa,
His stair unbroken.
          On the TV
Drivers fire and swerve,
Popping spider webs into windshields,
Glass shards flake into skin.
          Above him
A woman screams about a mess.

I make my tracks across the snow
And over the crooked post fence to the frozen creek.
Air beneath the surface makes uneven eyes
Twisting around cruel noses.
Trailing mouths with silent screams push towards the sky
Like trapped souls.
I slide down stream, tapping
For a weakness in the crude discolored glass.

“Words Unspoken” by Gregory Golden

The gift of life
Is a word unspoken

Words are buried
Deep beneath the
Pine cone trees,
Like a wood beetle

Words do not die
Because they walk
on hallowed ground

Unsaid words sail
Like ships at night,
In the Caspian Sea

If these words
Should enter your soul,
Then, let them be
Words unspoken

“How Did I” by Myssie

How did I end up with someone so perfect
Why did he pick someone so imperfect
I'm differnt from the rest
I'm less than they are
I never saw myself if as his type
But he was mine
I thought it would never come true
But I guess dreams do come true
Honestly this feeling will never go away
Even if it was to end
He'll always have that piece of me
That no one could ever have
I hope we stay like this for eternity
He showed me the world
In just one way
He gave me his heart
While I gave him mine
How did I end up with someone so perfect
Why did he pick someone so imperfect