(3)… by Rusty Kjarvik

Posted on July 28, 2013 by randomlyaccessedpoetics

(3)

empty Blown mind

towed current

pulled slow

drifted away

hand

fingers following new lines

a purveyance through wood and metal

traced rhythmically

moving away

from paper’s raw form

in touching the soft grain of a graphite pen

the resonant breath

cold and worn thought

strained to perfect the blue must of why

expressed through thick unworn time

virgin thorn brush

frame lilting strong above

of artistic madness & the careless face

in the jokester’s foam and rust

upbringing up mathematical ladder-works

pierced with a sorry and frayed built-in lung

the pulse breaking off the tops of widow’s peak waves

blushing high over the coastal horizon

a piercing thought

that boiled in the mind’s own brain

an intuitive question

with an answer as certain as death in the next step

and raised thoughtless to the thickening deep

an abysmal pace precedes the broken wife

staring fast beyond the wild break

forcing herself to see Love break

over the celestial mast

and its foreign page

burned as it were by the son’s inglorious risen haze

casting tears into a bewildered day

drying the dew-frosted snout of a log cabin deer

faintly seen through the savage brush

formed out of clear beaming space

in a second’s timeless gesture

upwards from the leaf

poking sure from soil’s infamous grasp

human souls prying with sheer might

and the imaginative will of the heavens

to escape from the tomb

a living corpse

bruised and swollen with light

and the golden icicle flesh of a new species

needing to supersede man’s greatest guess

throughout history

that the timeless prevails

archaic wisdom thrives

in rocks inflamed

with the only sacred ardor

stabilizing our footstep ground

over the inner turnings

of a worshiped Earth

whose center remains

an unresolved cleft

in the rights

and passionate longing

given to a miracle

lying between animal disease

and human sex

Rusty Kjarvik is a writer, musician and artist. Poetry publications include Poydras Review (August 2012), Danse Macabre, (July 2012). With short fiction in Haggard & Halloo (May 2012), and visual art for the cover of Eskimo Pie (July, August, September 2012), Kjarvik also blogs (www.rkjarvik.blogspot.com) and performs world music.

Copyright © 2013 by Rusty Kjarvik

Thumbelina… by Holly Day

Posted on July 21, 2013 by randomlyaccessedpoetics

Thumbelina

I once was a woman who

prayed for just one little baby

someone to love and call my own

I didn’t care if it was

a little boy, a little

girl. but the only baby

that ever came was too

small, too quiet, curled tiny

in my palm. it would not move

it did not cry. morning came

and I

sat by the windowsill, imagining

walnut shell cradles

singing songs of the places

my child would never see.

Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis, Minnesota who teaches needlepoint classes in the Minneapolis school district. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Worcester Review, Broken Pencil, and Slipstream, and she is the recipient of the 2011 Sam Ragan Poetry Prize from Barton College. Her most recent published book is “Notenlesen für Dummies Das Pocketbuch,” while her novel, “The Trouble With Clare,” is due out from Hydra Publications in 2013.

Copyright © 2013 by Holly Day

House of Vanishing Doors… by Stanley Morris Noah

Posted on July 14, 2013 by randomlyaccessedpoetics

House of Vanishing Doors

A breeze came through the window

In a small vacant farm house very far

From town as the soft transparent

Cloth curtains danced. A chair and

Table nearby held an open book; pages

Turning themselves as if alone by the

Force of what was searching from the

Outside coming inside, intermittently,

At my reading pace. You see, I once

Lived here in the flesh of events with

Passion like others had done so when

Our fields were full of cotton and trees

Had deep water wells for their leaves

To grow cool shades. And the back bed

Room at times became silent as things

Stood still for moments. Again, just now,

I can recall one summer day like a dream

Written down, the long letting go, a closing

That haunts me since, as I was the one

Who died here; and people were walking,

Leaving like in slow motion while the

Landscape dried up as the seasons moved

On. Still, I remain looking out the stark

Window of migrating birds and dirt roads.

Watching them going, changing, disappearing

Into some kind of a lonely series, never ending.

Stanley Morris Noah has a BGS degree from The University of Texas at Dallas. He has been published in the following: Wisconsin Review, Nexus, Main Street Rag, South Carolina Review, Poetry Nottingham and other publications in the U.S.A., Britain, Canada and New Zealand.

Heaven’s Mockery; O Star… by Canaan Massie

Posted on July 7, 2013 by randomlyaccessedpoetics

Heaven’s Mockery; O Star…

How you mock me.

Away from earthly oppressions.

Safe, is thee,

Hung home in heaven.

I envy your distance,

From this place we call earth.

You feel no resistance,

No pain, and no hurt.

For your father, an immortal,

And your mother owns all.

You feel no torture,

Only wished upon when you fall.

O star,

How you mock me.

How dost thee shine so bright?

And if thou art blue,

You still emulate light.

Canaan Massie is an eighteen year old who desires to make writing a lifetime vocation. For Canaan, writing is a spiritual experience. The very act of drawing the pen down the page is an encounter with the unseen other.

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Monthly Archives: July 2013