Poem Graceland Blue Christmas Poem by Joan Pond

A Graceland Christmas
As Paul held me near,
an artificial tree limb poked me in the back.
Jesus,
I”d be impaled by a pagan symbol
on December twenty-third
and I wouldn”t get to open my gifts.
Then I wondered
if I looked as uncomfortable
as I felt.
My skirt was riding up my legs,
stockings were bunched at my knees.
My blouse was wrinkled
and the limb from the tree
could puncture a lung.
I glanced at our reflection in the window.
Two middle-aged frumps,
clinging to each other.
And as the red lights on the tree flickered,
I knew this would be another blue,
blue,
Christmas.

***

Poem For Him Poem by Joan pond

Optokinetics

I can”t see you,

he would say

when wishing to shun.

What could I do

to make my presence known

again?

Relegated to a winter”s garden.

Fronds of fern

withered by frost,

and pines

with wintergreened tops.

Barely surviving in this solstice;

the penumbra of his light.

I sought clemency

while shivering

and seeking

his sight.

***

Poem There Are People in These Words Poem by Ken Peters

there are people in these words
parchment skin on parchment
wondering eyes transing verbs
history shimmering in
half-told truths half-remembered
my transgressors and forgivers
huddling together forever
at the back of some pronoun
every word pulsing with the heat
of thighs and ideals
that held me
released me
not so long ago

Poem Stalking Self addictions Poem by James Nicosia

Stalking Self

My talents dissolved into addictions
A young man’s quest

Torn shattered–pieces–one by one

Brainwaves too erratic–
And sharp to assemble again

What’s left–just pure soul
Lying underneath my feet

Rise-up old soul of passion-bliss
Laugh! it’s a play
Leave the stage
Exit it

O mind leave the soul to rest
Beta, alpha, theta best

No one would rescue you
Crucify yourself

James v. Nicosia

Morning poem by John Horvath Jr

Morning Incomplete

——————————————————————————–

Along the seashore at the cabin muffled waves through night
Embrace us in our sleep brief unhurried ’til the morning light
Upon these empty sheets reveals the stains of love imagined.
Morning doesn’t give a damn for dreams of lovers parted.
Morning wakes and shakes fresh dew off all imaginings.
I can lie here, dream you lay beside me
Morning after morning after we have parted,
Turn to caress and taste your beauty,
Wake wet with tears from missing you, sigh
Like breezes born for nothing but an empty
Space to fill. Beside me you my emptiness must fill.

I will miss you, simple meters, reasoned rhyming,
Closure certain as the morning. Unwise, but I will
Miss you near to sunrise every morning,
At first light and in the darkness
Of my bedroom lonely; lacking kisses,
Shallow breathing become the slightest breezes
Laughing at me when I’ve risen, falsely risen early
Ready waiting for your eyes to open gently.
I will miss you in the morning.

Morning doesn’t give a damn for dreams of lovers parted.
You think that you are going someplace certain–so untrue:
You simply return unto that place where alone you started,
Where daily daylight stains you bleach away, half-hearted
Try recapture simple dreaming. Embrace the dreaming: hold
Off certainty of someplace solid nine-to-five and evenings lonely;
Doze ’til bedclothes cover over eyes that close, then come to me.
I shall take you with me, darling, to the dreamscape where we started–
It’s only morning that doesn’t give a damn for dreams of lovers parted.
Our dreams are conquests over limits,
together time and space in sleep are bested.

***