Leave-taking

by on Jan 23, 2015

(watch Leave-taking & read Dave’s process notes on Vimeo)

Leave-taking

the trees react to colder nights by stripping naked
the meadow too

it’s as if they’re about to set off somewhere
all excess baggage is left at the gate

the sun too is a budget traveler
abandoning most of the sky
the days are so quiet now

take me with you
even if there’s nowhere to go
even if it means leaving myself behind

 


Dave Bonta edits Moving Poems, a site devoted to videopoetry and poetry film, and is in his third year of making daily erasure poems from the 17th-century diary of Samuel Pepys.

A Walk on the Tame Side

by on Jan 22, 2015

I set out this morning
to take a pot of jelly to a neighbour,
caught a flash of white on the door next door.
A louer, it says: for rent.
Where have they gone, my little friends
who played on the slide and the swing?
You can’t rely on anything
to stay the same
except the mallow growing wild
and a small brown butterfly.

 


Vivienne Blake, a late developer, started writing poetry during an Open University Creative Writing Course in 2007. Since then her work has been published in various magazines and anthologies, in English and French. She lives in rural Normandy. Her poetry, fiction, memoir and quilts appear regularly at Vivinfrance’s Blog.

Bend Back and Sigh

by on Jan 21, 2015

Flickers outline this courtyard,
where they carry their young
to turn to ash.

This is where death–pigeon eyes
burn biblical.

Then the phone rings;
and everything seems too clean.

 


Pamela Sayers is an English teacher living in Mexico. She traded in her city high heels for Doc Martens and a different, spicier life thirteen years ago. She writes mostly about what she sees going on around her. She now lives a stress-free life with her happy animals (a dog and two cats).

my shadow

by on Jan 19, 2015

 

my shadow
accidentally
walking across
the white neighbor’s driveway …
he yells, Go back where you’re from

 


Chen-ou Liu is the author of five books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner, 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest) and A Life in Transition and Translation (Honorable Mention, 2014 Turtle Light Press Biennial Haiku Chapbook competition). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. Read more of his poems at Poetry in the Moment.

The Convert

by on Jan 16, 2015

(Watch Marie Craven’s video of “The Convert” on Vimeo)

Editor’s note: the text of the Eric Burke poem “The Convert” and his bio can be read at The Poetry Storehouse or qarrtsiluni where the poem first appeared.


Marie Craven is a media maker and musician from the Gold Coast, Australia. She has been engaged in online collaboration since 2007 and has contributed to works with artists in many different parts of the world. Website: pixieguts.com

nail art

by on Jan 15, 2015

 

nail art-
the guitarist’s fingers flash
the colors of Advent

 


Dr. Angelee Deodhar, an eye surgeon by profession, is a haiku poet, translator and artist from India. Her haiku, haibun, and haiga have been published internationally in various books, journals and on the internet. Her work has been translated into many languages including Japanese, Croatian, Romanian, Russian, German, French, Serbian and several Indian languages. She considers haiku to be a medium for international friendship and peace.

Big Red Hands

by on Jan 14, 2015

The top stories today are hacking and theology. That would explain the relentless spiral of hallucinations in which the bones of your mother and father have been incorporated. Dammit! Why ask me how I am? You’re the one overwhelmed by electronic exposure to the rest of the world. A disturbed childhood with acne and big red hands follows you almost everywhere you go. It’s why I avoid lingering while you try to hang a fallen apple – is that a bite taken out of it? – back on the apple tree.

 


All proceeds from Howie Good’s latest book of poetry, Fugitive Pieces (Right Hand Press), go to the Food Bank of the Hudson Valley. Visit Right Hand Pointing Books to learn more.

Tales of the Forest

by on Jan 13, 2015

Let me tell you of the forest,
stories written in earth tongue
transmitted by mycelial mat.
Bare limbs severed,
raw splinters,
rib cages buried in moss.

 


Michele S. Cornelius spent years chasing clouds on the back roads of the west, but is now settled in Southeast Alaska where she wanders in old-growth forests, admires the sea, and works to capture ephemeral bits of nature.  Her website is michelescornelius.com.