#Poetry: After the Reading – Robert Matthew Goldstein

My favoritecharactershave spiltmy gutsin public– Now alonewithmy ‘self’ though I amperhapsa prettylie. The globespins forthe sakeof tradition Gravitybindsus to memoriesand visionsof suddenlingering- death. Words and image (c) Rob Goldstein 1986, 2014, 2020 online at: https://robertmgoldstein.com/

a serried tale – indishe (theindieshe)

The serried twists and sharp turns, Ensheathed in a veiled canopy , That hides its dazzling sheen, From those that envy its resplendent allure, Unsurpassed, Untouched. It beckons you, Tantalising, Mocking that you can’t you reach it, As you want it all the more. You just walk along in tremulous fear, Gingerly circumventing the folds,Continue reading “a serried tale – indishe (theindieshe)”

“Even when things are right” – Nayana Nair (it rains in my heart)

“The sky is your canvas”,the book to all ailments said,“there is a joy in filling it up with life.”But as I finished my 157th sketch,as I finished my 300th one,as I finished the one with no count attached(the one I called “the limits that were stronger than me”),as I write over all that I hadContinue reading ““Even when things are right” – Nayana Nair (it rains in my heart)”

Whats the Good of It —Devereaux Frazier

what’s the good of writing/if nobody hears it or the power in song/if it’s only in your head why sacrifice to live a good life/if it never sees the light of day/the sun is a stage the earth is a proving ground/so show heaven the the dust created a worthwhile being/stars magnified thought and blessedContinue reading “Whats the Good of It —Devereaux Frazier”

The Scryers – Mitchell David Ring (The Light is On)

Stand and speak in tongues of fire stories of the last flame in this desert world laid to ruin when the many waters receded and its fertile valleys filled with dust and sand Now dimly glows the flame as darkness comes and the winds blow bitter cold to snuff it out Melted wax pools reflectContinue reading “The Scryers – Mitchell David Ring (The Light is On)”

A Winged Bird – House of Heart

I am who I have always been a shiver of soft reeds beside the river or the cascade of  a waterfall. Gypsy crows rise  to a soft dawn sky gathering their kind they circle back for me. I can scarcely bear the splendor of the world, its wonder humbles the wisp  that is me. MinutiaeContinue reading “A Winged Bird – House of Heart”