Receptacles | A Poem by Guy Farmer

I go to darker places
Where people avert
Their gazes and hastily
Usher themselves to
The safety of their
Unexamined existences.
I live on the fringes,
Stoking questions others
Lock away in airtight
Attempted smothering.
I am difficult to behold,
A gruesome blight on a
Beautiful artificial landscape,
Searing with veracity

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Married Tenderness | A Poem by G.S. Katz

It’s not quite sex
But it is passion
I call it “arming”
It’s tender and sweet

Aligning myself next to her
Gently rubbing her arm as she sleeps
It’s light and feathery
A message of love not lust

She smiles slightly
Knows I’m there
As soon as I see her expression
I fall back into slumber without a care

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The Avian | A Poem by JD DeHart

Squawking, he put himself
into feathers, strutting
in his bold and vibrant
He used to be a normal
man with back problems,
but now he chirps and props
himself up on perches.
He parrots other people’s
words back to them.
Some day he will migrate.

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Halloween: Flashlight in the Gangway | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

The lack of visitors is uterine
and that is why you porcupine
in this dark corner. Here

who can see the cobra
slither from your lips, spray
the phrases of your mind,

slip back to its moist nest?
Here, who can hear the jeer
of cheetah eyes? “Come,”

they cry, “pour on the light.
Your heart I’ll lacerate
with razor fright.”

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Thank You for Your Love | A Poem by G.S. Katz

I feel it
You’ve covered me in it
I’m not talking sex
This is more spiritual
Personal if you will
I’ve returned your love
The best I knew how
And it’s ongoing
This is the sweetest fruit
Take my hand and my vision
Bring it home to your own
I’ve loved my time here
This is not goodbye
Just some appreciation
Our world is difficult
But you make it breath
I’ll stop now
Knowing I could go on
Thank you for your love
It means everything to me

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It’s No Myth | A Poem by Daniel Klawitter

“I always feel a more than human dread
over what names to use for the gods – it surpasses
the greatest fear. So now I address Aphrodite
by whatever title pleases her.”
–Socrates in Plato’s, Philebus.

Olympus is on fire!
The hot heart of Hephaestus
is hammered with grief –

as Aphrodite retires
to her perfumed palace

he labors below
with the lost
and the least.

Jagged with jealousy
as malice is forged
in his cavernous heart

which beats to the anvil
of iron clanging
and sparks

leap from his furrowed brow
like a furnace!

Misshapen is his fate –
not unlike the ridges
on his back,
for he seems doomed
to be a lover
of that
which he can never purchase
with kisses.

So with furious blows
of his hammer,
he forms fetters
strong enough to shackle
her titanic ambition.

And all scorned lovers
and gods can bear witness
to the hot heart of Hephaestus
that sets fire
to Olympus!

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Old Habits | A Poem by G.S. Katz

I’m locked into old habits
The world is spinning fast
Hopefully not off its axis
And I am embracing the past
Tried and true

Is it an aging thing
Or something else ?

Here’s my list:

I still buy books, need the physical touch

Still write checks, never giving that up

Listen to music on a portable CD player, mega bass

Wear vintage wind-up watches, no battery to replace

Been using the same bottle opener for 38 years

My land line phone is intact and working with clarity

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got the new stuff too, I’m as
electronic as anybody. And embrace the technology. But
traditions remain, time tested and true

Any questions?

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