Poetry from Angelica Fuse

Step Back
step back
a moment
strap on new
do not jump
so quickly
to judgment
wash away
the pain you
wallowed in
who you were
always supposed
to be.
don’t put
pigtails on me
they are only
don’t try to
pin me down
define me
I will break
through the walls
of definition
don’t try to size
me up
or I will shrink
you down.

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Poetry from Ridley Flock

Through strong arms
I find my inner metal,
Deep down, I am a cage,
an animal used to live there,
But now the animal is gone,
leaving only the bars,
A grinning rib cage
of impregnability.

Poetry from JD DeHart

John Ramm (appearing at Eunoia Review and at Writing Raw)
When first domesticated, John was given
A power tie and a mug with antlers
He was informed about corporate life
Now he paces in the offices
Snorting and bucking, attempting to climb
The heights are sheer
This is what his hooves are made for
They talk about him at the water cooler.
The Ballad of John Ramm (appearing on VerseWrights)
Munching twigs, scenting
the air, hidden in a thicket
of leaves, brambles, thorns,
agile feet take him to flight
but not soon enough
Hailing a cab, trying to make
his way to work, he remembers
distantly what it was like to be
in the wild, but that was so long
ago, it seems like a different
animal lived then
While others preen, he pummels
While others rant, he rams.
Legend of John Ramm (appearing on Squawk Back)
Not sure why he spells his name
with two m’s sometimes. Maybe
it’s just been that long.
You can tell by the way he sniffs
the day, it’s not all good here. He
wants you to think it is. We all do.
How are you, I’m fine. Do they
even give you time to answer? I
sit across, study his antlers, want
to set him free. But his handlers
just won’t let me.
Like Ramms at Play (appearing on Venus in Scorpio)
He was a creature of the forest,
at work and at play,
then forced into an office.
But all that has been said before.
Now the family
must manage the remains,
decide if they will return
to the forest glen, scamper
and rut, or make the continual
business climb.

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Christopher Bernard reviews San Francisco’s Opera Parallele’s production of The Lighthouse


A review by Christopher  Bernard

Opera Parallèle presents a new production of Peter Maxwell Davies’ "The Lighthouse." From left to right: Thomas Glenn, David Cushing and Robert Orth. At Z Space on Thursday night, April 28, 2016.

Opera Parallèle presents a new production of Peter Maxwell Davies’ “The Lighthouse.” From left to right: Thomas Glenn, David Cushing and Robert Orth. At Z Space on Thursday night, April 28, 2016.










The Lighthouse

An opera written and composed by Peter Maxwell Davies

Produced by Opera Parallèle

Z Space

San Francisco

April 29 – May 1, 2016


The Grim Reaper’s over-exercised blade this year – which has seen the loss of so many figures from popular culture, from David Bowie to Merle Haggard, from Patty Duke to Alan Rickman – has not spared high culture. The Hungarian writer and Nobel laureate (and Holocaust witness and survivor) Imre Kertesz died this spring, and also Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, arguably – or rather, inarguably – Great Britain’s most significant composer since the death of Benjamin Britten.


By coincidence, serendipity or synchronicity, Opera Parallèle (San Francisco’s production company of modern opera), was preparing a new production of Davies’ most popular dramatic work. And the fine results, a triumph of talent over budget, were on view this spring over a handful of performances in San Francisco’s Z Space at Theater Artaud. These were dedicated to his memory, and it’s a great shame he didn’t live to see them: I think it’s fair to say he would have been more than happy, not only from the point of view of musical integrity and skill, but also of inventive and satisfying staging.

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Poetry from Joan Beebe


We wonder, sometimes, about families we see,

Are they happy and content as they should be.

Behind their closed doors there may be strife

Affecting their home and always their life.

What makes a family so sad and despaired

There may not be enough love shared

That makes a person whole and happy and content

But that love has to be shown and really meant.

People yearn for a life that will bring the love they need

And, without knowing, we have planted the seed.

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Holly Sisson reviews Patty Lesser’s The Perfect Hand


Heart and Soul of Atheism

Reviewer, Holly Sisson, MA

Depth Psychologist

Patty Lesser's The Perfect Hand

Patty Lesser’s The Perfect Hand









Patty Lesser’s newest novel, The Perfect Hand, appears for its readers as a reflection of our modern technological world where privacy is debatable, espionage is commonplace- both as harmless acts of social media stalking and more dangerous forms of mind control. And walking through the dangers of world domination begun while hiding behind invisible walls is just what you will get in this 1990s-Milennial mashup of dogma versus atheistic scientists. The plot spirals around how people respond to the hand of life they are dealt and is woven with by the courageous hearts and minds of five friends and their families willing to go the distance.

In contrast to some of her earlier novels Patty’s New Englander charm shows up in a writing style that is direct and to the point. Not a lot of fluff or buildup. Her character development is quick and she jumps right into the story with poker metaphors driven by morality for the greater good in society.

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