Sometimes

London has

Been gone

For almost

Eighteen months

And sometimes

He still 

Bursts into tears

When he thinks

About her.

Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fifth book, was published in May.

Billie Holiday of the Burning Sky

billie holiday of the drifting light

struck dumb by the sea of love

burning through sad long days

roots of spring demons

the heart of sunlight

softly singing.

The Lord of Pity & Barbed Wire

is not far away

the moonshine resurrection

of agony

piled high

yesterday

the air

blew jazz songs

from a dead church.

Telegrams from a Chicken’s Neck

leroi jones died today

long pauses of morning

my clean laundry

hidden in loneliness

your tent of reason

in the name of charity

my father did it

for the glory

of regrets

we all have a cold

the alarm

doesn’t give a damn.

John Dorsey is the former Poet Laureate of Belle, MO. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Which Way to the River: Selected Poems: 2016-2020 (OAC Books, 2020), Sundown at the Redneck Carnival, (Spartan Press, 2022, and Pocatello Wildflower, (Crisis Chronicles Press, 2023). He may be reached at archerevans@yahoo.com.

 

Part 1: Disregard the Man

Euphoria with every breath?
He’s underwater waiting for his lungs to fill.

Four of five are men
But she’s the one they cry for.

Men’s corpses sink.
From weights that couldn’t be lifted.

Men, too embarrassed to ask for help, too hurt to live.

“Those weren’t real men.” “It’s their fault!” “They weren’t strong enough.”
The men drowned
And the bodies rotted.
While the passersby held their breath.

                                                       Part 2: The Cycle

The boy was taught to treat girls kindly.
Because he was born into a man’s role.
While the girls were taught what to expect from men.
And the women made the boy apologize for being born.

So the boy drank at the bar, cowering from his son who needed to cry
Like his father had before him.
But he drank his tears away,
Like his father had before him.
And right before him lay his father’s corpse.

The boy repeated his father’s last words in his head. “I see you.”
Tears dripped onto the father’s blank face.

“ICU,” the boy repeated.
The boy’s gaze shifted from his father’s face
To the direction his father faced.
He drowned in his tears.  
Matching a shade of the oceanic sign 

which read, “ICU,”
“Intensive Care Unit, section five, room two.”

Gabriel Kang is a ninth grade writer and aspires to become a professional rock climber. At Ruth Asawa SOTA, (currently majoring in creative writing), the lesson plans are currently covering poetry. Through this group, he’s learned to create and grow his own writing voice and has been actively getting stronger as a writer. While in rock climbing, he attends nationals every year, competes in open categories, and is always challenging himself. Through rock climbing, he relieves his stress and takes action towards his goals, while also further enhancing his writing skills from the creativity and growth mindset the sport provides.

Woke Up

Woke up, woke up

Don’t sleep and say ‘shut up’

The word l say is not dark and turmoil

The world I offer is not waste soil

Trust me and touch the heavenly light

Hold beauty as you can in your sight

There is no question mark between you and me

There is no truth that hides us in the sea

Our souls are loving, pure and merciful 

Look the world where everything is beautiful 

There is no promise but only greatness of love

The sky adorns to invite the dove

I love you beyond the beauty

I needn’t to know why the seas are salty

I love you with everything l know

I shall teach you how to flow.

We are never in hell’s darkness 

We won’t fall from heaven in any case

Our shadows are in the same envelope 

That never be bought from worldly shop

Don’t say to prove the sun

Only l love and there is none.

Let woke up and woke up from the dust

You can’t be far away for different cast

You are brighter than cast forever

Only l know well who you are

God has created all man and woman

Let you love me as much as you can..

Love is Not a Clouded Moon

The space of heart is limited

Where love is not imitated 

Man is like machine

As relationship is very thin

Love is nothing but only a pocket word

People pass without love and God

Man is not man but a creature

There is none to give real signature

Time is wasted in vain

Everything is in chain.

Where is the land of peace?

Where shall l give my virgin kiss?

A heart is not true where money grows

The smell doesn’t matter if it is a rose.

Love should be pleasant for all

It must be natural and very normal

It is not a fallen star

It is a heavenly matter.

If you love anyone you are not too late

Pure love is the key to heaven’s gate.

Love is not a clouded moon

Please say ‘l love you’ soon.

ISLANDS OF FLOATING GARBAGE

                        Madison Square Garden, 1939

                        20,000 gather for a “Pro-America” Rally.

                        Flanked by swastikas, James Wheeler predicts,

                        “If George Washington were alive today,

                        he’d be friends with Adolph Hitler.”

                        German-American Bund speaker Fritz Julius Kuhn

                        rails against “the oriental cunning of the Jews.”

                        Champions an America ruled by white Gentiles,

                        free from Jewish leadership in Hollywood

and the Press. 

                        America for Americans only.

                        Madison Square Garden, 2024

                        20,000 gather to support Trump’s re-election.

                        Trump thunders against immigrants—

                        rapists, mental patients, criminal gangs

                        from shithole countries.

                        Don Jr. says they want to replace us

with people of color.

                        Tucker Carlson concurs:

                        they want to replace real Americans with immigrants.  

                        Stephen Miller sums it up: 

                        America for Americans only.

                        Who flocks to these rallies? Enjoys white supremacy

                        spiced with lies and name-calling?

                        Trump’s opponent is labeled a “low IQ” woman,

                        managed by “pimp handlers;”  “the Anti-Christ.”

                        Puerto Rico’s called “islands of floating garbage.”

                        Haitian immigrants are accused of

“eating cats and dogs.”

                        If elected, Trump says he’ll get rid of

“the enemy within…”

                        Call out the army. Detain in camps, deport, imprison.

                        So– Madison Square Garden hosted two nasty rallies,

                        Each rally heaped hate on scapegoats.

                        Both blended entitled white supremacy

                        with flag waving and singing the national anthem.

                        In our country’s history, these mob scenes stand out–

                        red, white, and blue islands of floating garbage.

                        Copyright 10/2024     Patricia Doyne