Sharon Rothenfluch Cooper

Fugue And Fancy

Eerie flickers
of harmony float
and sweep the great hall,
brush around me,
hovering in whispers.

Flutes and oboes
lie, museum-cased,
against the wall,
larger pieces sit upright
in cabinets, waiting.

Sounds swell
and rise as one,
a fluid atmosphere
hums and vibrates,
inspiring faraway melodies.

The Old Masters never vanish,                                                       
they are heard
in the dreaming hours,
encore performances
to their genius.

(More poems by Sharon Rathenfluch Cooper)

 Poems  by Bob Marcacci

when i was young i walked
across surfaces
as a slow moon

i walk still
without you
to linger on

starring dark
edges of the lake

silver water
lapping warm earth
like a silent animal

come to drink
in cool hours
and your air

(  More Poems by Bob Marcacci )

Poem by Jeffrey Spahr-Summers


She came
across the desert
my tempest
for three years
she traveled across the earth
on camel back
on foot
shifting sand and
her face veiled
her want of wisdom
her love
of what puzzles
and i am riddled still but how
could we deny temptation
or passion
what would become
of her kingdom
or mine?

( More poems by Jeffrey Spahr-Summers )

 Poem by L. Ward Abel

Rainy Season, June

Light green the bottle
yellow chardonnay
casting sun-in-lime
along wall boards
wet now
with condensation,
fingerprints mar
the bottle's
coat of beads,
and I drink

drink to this rainy
to this moment,
with only screen
to shield
the dripping,
and wine to douse
my nakedness,
all form-fitted

(More poems by L. Ward Abel)

 Poem by Andrew Demcak

Anti-Love Poem

( for Ezra Pound)

You departed from love mechanically
and all its resolute hanky-panky.

Wholly hard-knuckled as you were then,
that poem done, but undelivered.

It was this typography, two-toned,
where competition churned in earnest

To expurgate another's hand, scarred,
whose fingers were deft as yours. Editing

exhaustive drafts, Eliot's parable
a null set, that long Wasteland of winter.

Even abridging your eminent heart:
There- it's merely blush-colored paper.

 (More poems by Andrew Demcak)

Poem by Lois Marie Harrod

In That Long Ovation of Rain

we came at last to center stage
to the delirious edge where wild roses splashed us
in the spotty light.

And hadn’t all our labor and all our love
been for this—the opera
which could endure cold quarters, dry bread,
cigarettes and slaves?

But we had not expected to be summoned so often,
to be forced to come and come again
into the rumbling light,
to bend and smile as if we were just beginning?

The rain would not stop.
Even when the curtains shut the last time
and we descended to our rooms
we could hear it thundering
in the galleries above.

( More poems by Lois Marie Harrod )

Poems by Dimitris P. Kraniotis

Fictitious line

of cigarettes
and mugs
full of coffee,
to the fictitious line
where the eddy
of words
leans against
and nods,
to my silence.


Snow-covered mountains,
ancient monuments,
a north wind that nods to us,
a thought that flows,
images imbued
with hymns of history,
words on signs
with ideals of geometry.

( Poems by Dimitris P. Kraniotis )

Poem by Christina Pacosz

Can You Whitewash the Spirit?

                                   Question posed on a church storefront near
                                   Niles, Michigan


Day lily sumac locust bur oak honeysuckle
cottonwood maple wild rose daisy Queen Anne’s lace
black-eyed Susan cedar purple phlox
bull thistle hollyhock sweet pea May apple

A floral litany blooming
in train track ditches across Missouri, Illinois, Michigan.
Thunder heads spiked by lightning.
The patter of rain sharp against glass.
Dark river dirt and eroded river valleys.
Corn plants just a few inches high.
Hay baled into loaves, ready for winter.
The engineer laying on the whistle
murmuring like a mother soothing her child.

Deer crow buzzard grouse hawk wild turkey
little white heron golden eagle

Gang graffiti, elaborate with secret meaning,
modern-day cave art spray painted on bridge abutments,
rail cars, tunnels.
A degraded, desecrated landscape
of abandoned factories and warehouses,
scrap yards, quarries, swaths of herbicide-sprayed
railroad right-of-ways.

An ailanthus tree. Green, defiant.

In all the podunk towns seeking a date,
the cornerstones of old brick buildings with windows gaping -
1854, 1861, 1891, 1907, 1916 -
establishing this wreck, that ruin
as something they could have glanced at
- a going concern then -
along the route they traveled in 1917
out of Leadwood escaping
the burning crosses and gunfire night after night.
The animal fear
of any varmint hunted and not wanted
staining the armpits of their cheap shirts and serviceable dresses.
Antoni and Ewa Pacosz, nee Cholody
Their children: Mary, Frank, Stanley, Walter, Janina
And a baby girl, name forgotten, dead from Spanish flu.

(More of poem by Christina Pacosz )

 Poem by Ulrike Gerbig

 Zen cycle:


Watch the dust
First dance then settle
So incredibly meaningful
In its unimportance
In its beautiful
As is the moment
The only unbroken promise
The only true reason for
Being alive

Zen 2

resign aim
goal purpose
just breath be the moment
float in infinity live life to the max

Zen 3

Watch snowflakes fall
Perishable repetitive uniqueness
They melt in possessive hands
Like moments we dream to be eternal

Zen 4

There is no path
Just the way we make
As we blindly stumble
From place to place
If we open our eyes
We might be granted
Some perspective
The only valuable lesson

Zen 5

Welcome frost
Life cravesdeath
Before theresurrection
Of beauty

Zen 6

Sealed in amber
The rotting fly becomes
Eternal beauty

( More poems by Ulrike Gerbig )

Poem by Raj Ponnaluri

Upon One's Death

An anthology of life-filled events
Flashes as spring splendor scenery,
To sing greatness amid the greenery
Of sloped meadows and oakwood tents.

A senior that parched summer times
Past drought cakes and rare rain spell,
When trees begged since all leaves fell,
Struck Egmont Overture to skip hot climes.

A youth that worked hard and stood still
Rarely; reared a family with wife’s hand,
And castaway tribulations as leaves banned
From autumns that packed dusk’s breeze mill.

A child that jumped around yet obediently froze,
Played violin and ball, learned science & math,
With support of good parents that sought a path
Of wisdom and freedom, on whom to not impose

(More poems by Raj Ponnaluri )


A  poem by  Harihar Jha


Hungry dogs keep barking
Moon sneaking away behind the horizon
In this city
A few corpses bury human beings alive
A few chairs catch the neck of people
Sit over them haughtily
budding flowers are being crushed
My soul is furious, enraged
And cries my fuming speech
In response
Angered by not able to crush me
the hungry dogs
catch me with their big forceps
push me in a dog-vehicle
and leave me in a dreaded forest.

( more Poems by Harihar Jha)

Usha Kishore

Discover Me

Ascend the Himalayas of
my spirit, where visions
arise; hear Shiva’s snow-clad
laughter rumble in avalanches…

See the Taj Mahal in my eyes,
gilded emotion dreaming in
marble; see the light of love
sprinkled in jewels…

Hear the tiger in my heart,
a restless spirit in the
wilderness; lightning streaks
flying out in a thousand birds…

Feel the Ganga in my hair,
At dawn and dusk, stroke
the prayers rustling the
colours of the sun…

Taste the Hindi in my
tongue, rhyme-kissed
lips parting in pure lyric;
Feel the waves of music
rise and fall…

Smell the Arabian Sea
in my breath - the salt,
the foam, the amber sun;
Wave with emerald fronds
of exiled thought…

Sway to the Kathakali at
my feet - the rhythm of
the hands, the eyebrow
tilt; beat to red and green
echoing in song…

Fathom the Vedas in
my soul, the chant of
OM – the beginning
and the end; one word,
one world, an eternity…

Discover me!

(More poems by Usha Kishore)

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