You must stop reminiscing at every date.

Author: Monica Byrne My wonderful father, at age 76, has won a poetry prize. Here is the winning poem: “You Must Stop Reminiscing at Every Date,” about my mother. By Donald E. Byrne Jr., published in Red Clay Review, November 2017. Posted with permission. Read it aloud. ~ We do the annual calendar together: I […]

Drowned like puppies

By TheAnxietyJunkie I’ve seen my share of sad men Down and outs by the bus station Sharing cigarette butts and sherry, Clean shaven men in traffic jams Twisting the dials of their radios Searching in the static for Something better, something other. I have seen men fall from grace Like meteors they plunged Into greasy […]

night’s alchemy

Originally posted on yaskhan:
Fireflies lambent In twilight’s emerald hue… Night lays bare its scent. Fireplace burns hushed time As crackle of flames glitter On evening’s chemise… Satiny stars flicker Splattering across ebony Breathing jeweled dew… Night’s alchemy lures Syncopated rhapsody In moonlit octave… Sleep shadows the eyes Like keeper of the night Stars rhythm…

october stars

Originally posted on yaskhan:
In the poetry of stars I sing songs of solitude In an awakening night The wind slips me dreams… Clouds and moon play peek-a-boo Gathering dancing shadows On a siver dewed landscape A breeze anchors me Among night blossoms A virginal moon plays Song of the stars

Dear innerthoughts

Originally posted on MY WORLD.:
You confuse me You not sure of what’s best for me. You exhaust me. You make me question. You make me wonder, And yet! you never give solutions. DEAR I inner Thoughts. I erase you from my mind for all you do is leave questions with no answers, wonderings confusions…

Land of the Sleeping Things

Originally posted on repsychl:
I wade through mercury waters A land speckled crimson Peppered bloody, hematic and sore Swollen, cancerous rocks, bloated, bulging  and inflamed Under a sickly sky, the trees gaunt and rawboned, they reach, beseech, leeching for a way out of their roots Marks like swords – what has been here before? It…