TABLE OF CONTENTS - POETRY

So Many Questions, Not So Many Answers - Irene Theocharis
This Garden - Peter (Krax) Ingestad
We are Just One - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
Prestidigitation - David Ellis
Lady's Choice - Kathleen Cesaro
5 Haikus for Hells Angels – Peter (Krax) Ingestad
Aye, Me Hearty! - Torg (Tom) Hadley
Response to a Raisin Hater - Sean MacNiven
Age - Tine Wilde
Apercu* - Kathleen Cesaro
A Disease of the Soul - Hernan R. Chang M.D.
Shall Self-Will - Torg (Tom) Hadley
Dark Haiku - Krysta Sutterfield
San Antonio: - Jon Marin
No the Problem Here Is - Paul Nachbar
Forget It - Paul Nachbar
First Kiss First Kiss - Daniele Pinna
Once.. - Daniele Pinna
Never-ending Lullabye - Daniele Pinna
Midlife-Crisis of a Twenty Year Old - Merlin Carl
Wizard - T. G. "Torg" Hadley
Either/Or - Paul Nachbar
Truth, Life - Greg Grove Psy.D.
Echoed - Thom Hadley
Opposites - Kathleen Cesaro
Migration - Kathleen Cesaro
To the Group - Kathleen Cesaro
Poetry or Pirouette - Kathleen Cesaro
Poets Prayer (age 46) - Paul Nachbar
Cronus - Thom Hadley
Ode to the Pentaquark - Paul Nachbar

So Many Questions, Not So Many Answers - Irene Theocharis

I think why should I live the pain,
That only god has brought.
I question his existence,
I question life and death,
I question the efluvium inscence,
I question the envenomous breath.
I strive to play the game of life,
I rarely win and mostly lose,
I want to end this miserable strife,
I want to break my major fuse.
I have a dream that won't come true,
A dream in which I learn to love,
A dream I can tell only to the select few,
A dreadful baron in me that I will hove.
Where I will breathe for the last time,
and all my horror will be laid to rest,
I will commit my hideous crime,
I will meet god and do my best.

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This Garden - Peter (Krax) Ingestad

This garden, a calm
voice, a strange man standing on
his head somewhere else.

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We are Just One - Hernan R. Chang M.D.

In this silent night
covered by shining stars
I am thinking of you.
In these timeless moments
I am wondering about what
you really mean to me, my love.

There are no more clouds in my mind
It is just your memories and me.
You and me alone.
I realize that you are like
iced-water to my thirsty soul,
that I need your love
as I need fresh air to breathe.

In this silent night
covered by shining stars
I imagine you sitting beside me
and telling me nice things
while we are watching the sky.

In this silent night
I remember how many times you stood by me
when I needed you,
how many times I have found comfort in your arms
when I felt so blue.

In this silent night
covered with shining stars
I remember you my love
and I realize that we are one, just one.

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Prestidigitation - David Ellis

Like feathers falling to earth,
the cards produced by a magician
flutter.

Some land in a top hat,
sitting on the table
under his hand.

Others on the tablecloth,
a sheer silky fabric.

Only a few make it to the floor,
but one lands
in a shallow puddle
of water from the previous trick.

At the end of the show,
after hearty applause
and a bow or two,
the magician collects his things.

Late into the night,
the card,
abandoned,
wallows in wetness.

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Lady's Choice - Kathleen Cesaro

Many swagger boldly into her den,
Displaying pieces of their labors
To win her favor and proposition her.

She dismisses their dreams
And Shrivels their assets
With the flick of an indifferent finger.

Then, hoarding her charms,
She pirouettes across the felted tables,
Beckoning flirtatiously to each captive fool.

Until, drawn to the eyes of a kindred soul,
She's scooped into his shirt pocket and
Carried off,
Clinging to the Gambler's steady heart.

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5 Haikus for Hell’s Angels – Peter (Krax) Ingestad

Love of a pure heart,
splendor of chastity, roads
to Eternity -

This landscape is mine:
the wind! the speed! the spirit!
Body, Soul, Spirit.

Love, Drugs, Violence;
three flowers of Innocence,
Lord, from me, for Thee.

Dark light found: a beech,
birds, objective, a lake NOW,
wherever roads end.

This landscape indeed
is ours, this windy day -
Body, Void, Spirit!back to top

Aye, Me Hearty! - Torg (Tom) Hadley

Aye, me hearty!
I slash at Ghosties upon th' pitch 'n' yaw o' th' deck..
Me pulse throbs me eyes
as I flick me rapier into foggy enemy-mines...
Me chest's a barrel a-heavin', salt rimes me lips,
blood's on me tongue, I thirst for Rum...
I wish to wield the cat and rip Death's flesh asunder!
Yet, at steeled Dawn, I find
I'm tied to the Mast with leather thongs,
betrayed, Oh Treacherous Mutiny!
Above, my breath's stolen by
a monstrous wave reaching from the Sunne
to crush me into Black Oblivion...
I am Torg, the Cat Pirate,
and I lived long ago, mate...
I dwell now in this Mortal Coil,
penning word-worldly snippets,
'stead of runnin' the Strait laden wi'
Pearls, rubies, emeralds, and gold...
Somedays, I'm like a young lad,
Others, I remember how many lives I've lived,
and I feel so Olde.
Keep yer riggin' tight, Dusty.
There are yet many Tales to be told.

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Response to a Raisin Hater - Sean MacNiven

The rains are razin' raisins to the ground,
See how they fall, so sadly not quite round,
Dark matter in my muesli, stockpiles dried,
Hydration yet another time defied,
Yet your distaste I cannot comprehend,
And now must raisinkind promptly defend!
For raisins are a gem of sunlight tamed,
And with their kin Sultanas duly famed,
What Student's mix would be complete without,
A raisin's voiceless flavour branding shout!?
I love them for their tangy pungent breaths,
And thank them for their desiccated deaths,
Yea! Raisins mummified, may we ensure,
That you the sandy eons long endure!

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Age - Tine Wilde

A Loreley well on in years
amidst a thousand wrinkles
two blue spots
and only prospect
of a brick blind wall.

That fair hair nowadays
can stay forever,
but what she lived for has gone aboard.

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Apercu* - Kathleen Cesaro

Some rush
their lives in fast-forward
run-on sentences without periods
not even commas to request a deep
delicious breath
They flee prophetic moments past and flog
the ticking present
grasping gripping precious
milliseconds of the future
lest they escape

Some cower,
cringing in corners,
too petrified to
even flinch.
Their magnified eye spies
vultures stalking, circling
like a slow-motion
tornado,
path unknown.
Unearned rigor mortis.

So few serene
see no need for greed or speed
or skulking cowardice facing the last shift.
They glow in hugs of sunlight,
refresh in daybreak dew.
They know about the Light
and delight in every daisy, petals intact,
exhilarated surfers skimming the wave of time,
assured of loving welcome at
the shore.

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A Disease of the Soul - Hernan R. Chang M.D.

The fret waiting will end soon.
The test’s result has been delayed for several days.
I called the lab to find about it.
The test’s result was deferred because this test
was not considered “urgent” by the laboratory.

Finally, the lab called me to tell me
that the test was repeatedly positive.
I have to be now the conveyer of bad news.
I have done this before and it is not easy to do it.
He will stare at me and then he will look straightway into my eyes
and will ask, so? What is the result?

His face will express uneasiness, consternation
and finally upsetting when the test’s result
will be disclosed to him.
Moments of uncontrollable weeping will possibly ensue.
Or perhaps he will wait till I have left the room
to sob in silence.

What can I say? I’m sorry…this is not the end
However, I know that there will be nothing that
I can say or that I can do to ease this kind of pain.
No pain-killers will quell this pain.
Because this is not a bodily illness.

This in fact a disease of the soul.

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Shall Self-Will - Torg (Tom) Hadley

Shall self-will choose
Love
Denial
or Indecision?
All are self-fulfilling prophecies,
n'est-ce pas?

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Dark Haiku - Krysta Sutterfield

Tormented thoughts whirl
round inside me. Thunderstorms
gather, coming soon.

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San Antonio: - Jon Marin

San Antonio:
Went up to the Alamo,
Their Thermopolae.

Nice place to visit;
I wouldn't want to die there:
Kudos to heroes.

Heavy history:
Are Texans Spartans at heart?
River Walk is next.

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No the Problem Here Is - Paul Nachbar

No the problem here is
Too much God and Satan here
To be and not to be.

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Forget It - Paul Nachbar

To be or not to be
To be AND not to be
Oh forgit it
Let me watch TV!

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Paradigm to the Masses - Wallace W. Rhodes

Chide not their ennui.
Beyond apprehension,
Their life, as morning fog,
A shadowy declension.

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First Kiss - Daniele Pinna

The sailboat sways,
the sails are down,
the lines are tied;
I feel a sound.

I look away;
I focus promptly,
a storm's arising;
the drum keeps calling.

I touch the water;
it stirs there calmly.
You hold my fingers;
I caress you softly.

You sit by me;
I look at you;
You lean on me:
your heart beats too.

I feel you here;
we both stop time;
I kiss your lips,
salty like mine.

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Once… - Daniele Pinna

I see you gleaming.
I see you smiling.
I wish you'd call.
I wish you'd mind me.

I feel you distant.
You keep on fading.
I feel amidst us,
our cloth is tearing.

You think of you.
I think of me.
We both think of who
is not us we.

We once were strong.
We once had trends.
We once stood tall.
We once were friend's.

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Never-ending Lullabye - Daniele Pinna

I sit and lie;
I laugh and cry;
I see and touch;
I smell and sigh.

I think of this;
I think of that;
I think of me:
I see my cat.

She sits and stares,
not asking why
she lives right here,
or why birds fly.

I look outside:
never-ending clouds;
I sense infinity;
I see a crowd.

People dancing;
people laughing;
people living,
but not asking.

I feel my watch
it's ticking shy.
I feel myself;
I start to cry.

A second's up,
another too,
time goes on
but you stay you.

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Midlife-Crisis of a Twenty Year Old - Merlin Carl

I miss the future of my past, so big and pride
I miss the girl, in these times by my side.

I miss the sunshine and the thundering
I miss my lonely thoughtfull wandering

I miss my father, gone when I was twelve,
I miss my hopefull sixteen-year-old self.

One thing cheers up in seeing old times dead
One thought, my greatest hope and threat:

In lucky spots of wisdom, I can tell
I´ll miss these nower dancing days as well.

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Wizard - T. G. "Torg" Hadley

Magick's Soul cannot be sold
nor bought, borrowed, grasped, nor caught.

Shadows past: spun yarns, dream-woven;
our Vision, diaphanous.

Spells spoken, hearts broken, joys:
all echoes, silent-fallen.

to Catch Lightning in a jar,
or seduce Aphrodite

I labor so, whilst waxing
my crafted Wings on Crete's cliff.

I am Daedelus, I am
Icarus; Narcissus, too.

My Divinations astound
my wry Imaginations

Yet I cannot conjure
a distillation of Now.

To Dwell vibrant in Moments
Unceasing, to suspend grave Gravity

Is my wanton, vain Desire:
yet, so I strive, a Wizard

seeking a Time without Time,
leaning on a staff of Aire

My beard's gone bone-white, yet my
Eyes are clear, clouded only

by compassion for my Brothers,
my Sisters here beside me...

I hear their Voices as Heaven's
Chorus, vibrating my Soul.

They sing of Humanity's
Passions, of disillusions,

of inborn Nobility
of creeping, Dark Ennui.

to capture moonlight's Whisper
to distill Sun in a Word

this is the Magick I
would practise, these are such Moments

I so keenly seek to enjoin;
I, the Wizards' Apprentice.

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Either/Or - Paul Nachbar

Either/or
The answer to that terrible question
"What is the meaning of life?"
Is some arbitrary bit of data numerical or verbal
Like for instance 42
Or some brute in your face reality
Or some attractive or unattractive but debatable
Set of propositions
Or just "I feel"
Or what is probably true
The World is a Poem

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Truth, Life - Greg Grove Psy.D.

Life is here, for the taking...
No need to hide, no need faking
Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
Find the waters of Reality...begin.

Scurry here and there, ever wasting moments
Living from others' expectations, wishful torrents
Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
Enjoy the waters of Reality...begin.

Drink to satisfy, not to excess
Prove Yourself, find true success
Forsake the unreal, unmask and dive in
There you'll rival Reality...begin.

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Echoed - Thom Hadley

the sensation of migration
spied as a ruby-spark golden flash
heard in
hummingbird's wings
scented in delirious perfume of
white-starred flowering evergreen Clematis vine
the sense of 'caesura' is
the silent riot of crocus
rampant, purpling cocoa-brown moist earth
crazygreen grass hulking up
daffy-odils bustin' toward the sunglowheat
tulips demurely appearing in debutante Cotillion
awaiting their cue
weeping pussywillow, an umbrella of furry branches
shelters yet-sleeping tiger lilies in dark bark below
a single crimson rhododendron blossom nodding
now
knowing the sun has come home again...
these are such days we have awaited all winter-long
perhaps I shall depart as the arrowflights of geese
heading to nest southward next winter
I, heighing to the red rocks of Sedona...
The humpback, the gray whales, the hummingbird, the geese;
these and so many other creatures, unlike us,
know the ebb and flow,
following the sun,
riding and guiding on electromagnetic gravity-signals...
we can't feel them now
we have TV...
aye, there's the rub.

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Opposites - Kathleen Cesaro

I smirk at innocuous vituperation zipping beneath his radar like an F-15.
He guffaws his delight at banalities grinding their way into my all-too-permeable skin.

He corrals a raucous crowd and holds them spellbound for hours.
I squiggle off to do chameleon impressions on the ceiling.

I am quicker than Br'er Rabbit.
He is a flipped-over land tortoise.

He is Fearless Soldier, charging into Armageddon.
I am mite, clinging to the Eagle's wing feather.

I nourish my senses with flights of imagination.
He wears his appetite on his frame.

He leans into rooted rows with oxen-like strength.
I rationalize, fantasize, procrastinate, and deviate.

Lifelong Love:
Incomprehensible symbiosis of polar ends.

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Migration - Kathleen Cesaro

"Snowbird!" he accused.
I ask, "What's wrong with that?
"Postal Delivery"
They'll catch me if they need me.
"Resources"
Everywhere.
"Driver's license"
You can ride in my slipstream.
"Auto Registration"
Movement by Ancestral Memory.
"Passport"
I know who I am.
"Voting"
Trust in those who know the seasons.
"Taxes"
Nutrient Cycling.
"Jury duty"
I am witness to the rising sun.
"You are not giving back to the community."
(sigh) What is a humpback or hummer to do?

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To the Group - Kathleen Cesaro

Take one daily, for best results... Katie

Into the morning, I aim west
to eye my shadowy competitor.
Lean and long, she shares my footprints
and my strides
and gives me winks of limitless energy.

My thoughts jump and kick,
nipping back at the crisp air,
as I stoke the furnace in my chest.

Rhythm comes
with metronome beats of my feet:
pum-pum-pum-pum
and a two-beat bass of deep breaths:
IN--HALE, EX--HALE.
Like scuba breathing, the sound whooshes
through my head and quiets the world.

Turning south,
my competition pulls alongside,
elbowing my ego.
We scorch across the sand, aligned.
I punch the space in front of me,
grab the distance and feed it
to gobbling strides.

Another turn, into silence,
without friend or wind, left to cook
in my own air.
I soothe my heartbeat
and cruise home on auto-pilot,
sending glowing rays of spent energy
to kiss the morning sun.

I wonder, have I borrowed too much?
Then a steambath rises from me,
returning moisture to desert lily and poisonous lizard
alike

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Poetry or Pirouette - Kathleen Cesaro

Poetry or Pirouette,
there must be something I don't get.
I work on every single bit;
still, "perfect" never seems to fit.
I'm pushed too hard, ignoring love,
the one essential they're made of.
They both are meant to make us FEEL,
and that's the only way they're real

Poetry or Ballotte,
I think I'll throw my heart away.
Could I but give these gifts to you,
I'm sure you'd know just what to do,
to somehow bring them up to speed,
enriching those with lives of greed.
But skeleton is all there'd be,
if you should own the best of me.

Poetry or Terre-a-terre,
I've given up; I just don't care.
My best was never good enough,
and, yeah, I know that life is tough,
but shouldn't there be room for me,
for work of mediocrity
that comes from essence deep within
and I can pass to next-of-kin?

Poetry or Grand Jete,
I tried, my gifts won't go away.
I guess it's true, they're part of me,
my soul when it is soaring free.
I care not if you disapprove.
I'll simply write, I'll simply move.
They both are meant to make me FEEL,
and that's the only way I'M real.

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Poets Prayer (age 46) - Paul Nachbar

Forgive us our idiocies, our so-called successes
Our trespasses we are mostly (semi-secretly) proud of
Our idiocies? Inevitable, legion, though mostly debatable
Let us try to forgive these and not endlessly debate
Inside our own small brains
Or hope too much for not very credible magic.from elsewhere
Life is short.
Let us also try not to jump through mostly Practical hoops
We just weren't meant to jump through.
And mostly forget about Serenity
From any source
For us the Ultimate Pipedream
Ahwomen....

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Cronus - Thom Hadley

So is always, always Time, whether seen paned, or in cave
we are craven or brave, inspired or just too damned tired
in constancy, it waxes and wanes, Apollo and Luna...
time is one's soul, an parenthetical gasp
'twixt cradle and grave...

always, always, lights shine in eyes
ever, ever light dies from mine, is reborn...
ever since, yet evermore, shall my spirit shine...

"Rage, rage against the dying of the Light"...
Dylan saith: Do not go gentle into that dark Night.

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Ode to the Pentaquark - Paul Nachbar

just created/discovered or recreated in the lab, the pentaquark consists of five count em quarks or very very small particles which make up the usual electrons, neutrons and protons bound into a new particle or maybe form of matter which is very real apparantly but lasts like 10-23 seconds.Well, from the point of view of the pentaquark, this probably feels like a very long time. From our point of view, absolutely nothing. From other points of view regarding time and space, like who the hell are WE to talk? Yeah, I know, the only ones apparantly talking..

Ode to the Pentaquark

Oh i was really in the dark
Then read about the pentaquark
And thought that it was very sweet
That five of those could somehow meet
And with nothing else to do
Become for some time something new.

What bound them there one does not know
Perhaps they had noplace to go?
Or knew here something we did not
Or something that we had forgot
Well scientists will find this out
But does that make one twist and shout?

I think for moments not so long
The five of us became a song
And though this was not loud or bold
It shone bright magic through the cold
The experts said our lives a waste
Perhaps they sometimes speak in haste?

Oh i could spill some lovely ink
And make some raunchy popular stink
And some of this is always true
I gossip not a bit of this
For if one blames or credits them
They always do the same to you.

Oh I was getting oh so sad
Oh yes i knew the world was bad
And not so lovely, sordid crap
Which always landed on my lap
Beneath All Facts this sparking poem?
Perhaps I'm not..entirely ...alone?

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Questions - Kathleen Cesaro

Hello, Star...
Couldn't sleep.
(If not Sneaky Planet behind a facade of reflected light),
could you please tell me:
Who put you circling in the sky to keep watchful eye on us?
What do they call you, and what do you call me?
Where was I when you were born?
Why are you winking at me?

Hello, Sun...
I see you're up.
(Just a teensy hint about solar power--please?)
Could you please tell me:
Who made you the center of our solar system?
What do we give you, in return for warmth and light?
Where are you taking us, at speeds we can't comprehend?
Why do you smile anew at each dreadful day?

Hello, Moon...
You're glowing tonight.
(Is my far-away love looking up at you, too?)
Could you please tell me:
Who is to say, if night follows day, or day follows night?
What do you say to wolves to make them howl?
Where would you go, if we set you free?
Why do you pull us, this way and that--is it a game?

Hello, God...
I know you're here.
(If you are listening to me),
could you please tell me:
Who?
What?
Where?
Why?

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