Absinthe. Poem. Sara L Russell. 2012

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She stares into a pool reflecting midnight stars
A scrying glass of mystic mystery
A portal to dimensions where the brave may pass
Without a password or a golden key.

The shimmer of green oceans in the mind’s third eye
Reflects a myriad of distant lands
A chalice raised; a sip that brings the lips to sigh
Wingbeating spirit hears and understands.

The trees are hung with lanterns giving amber light
The sky’s festooned with stars in veils of cloud
Reflecting in her eyes. In decadent delight
She takes another sip and sighs aloud.

The light green potion lingers lightly on her tongue
Unfolding tastes of mint and aniseed
Promising deeper pleasure while the night is young
Where evening moths and fairies stop to feed.

***

Sara L  Russell 5/6/12

@pinkyandrexa 

Poet, Artist, Cartoonist, Goth, Time Traveller, UFO Spotter, Friend of cats everywhere. Former Editor of Poetry Life & Times. Founder of

http://thevideopoets.ning.com/ 

creativethinkersintl.ning.com/profile/SaraLouiseRussell
Poetry Lifetimes http://paper.li/pinkyandrexa/1321389290#

 

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But Somehow You Decide. Poem. Guy Kettelhack

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But Somehow You Decide

Strange, the charge – the larger thrust –

the feeling that you must – the yen to thrive –
the urge to amplify all senses you’re alive –

strange when they don’t come. Reassurance

shuts you up, and – dumb and deaf to it –
and left to the conundrum of your inanition –

your ambition seems to be less to establish

some new basis to arrive more widely
into consciousness than to retreat to stasis.

Pep talks sound like parakeets. All the sweets

Enthusiasm eats taste bitter in your mouth.
Hope goes south. You sigh. You can’t

say you feel better. But somehow you decide

you don’t feel worse. Perhaps that signals
something like the lifting of a curse.

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Free Fall. Poem. Sonnet by Michael R Burch

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These cloudless nights, the sky becomes a wheel 
where suns revolve around an axle star …
Look there, and choose. Decide which moon is yours. 
Sink Lethe-ward, held only by a heel. 

Advantage. Disadvantage. Who can tell? 
To see is not to know, but you can feel 
the tug sometimes: the gravity, the shell 
as lustrous as damp pearl. You sink, you reel 

toward some draining revelation. Air: 
too thin to grasp, to breath. Such pressure. Gasp. 
The stars invert, electric, everywhere. 
And so we fall, down-tumbling through night’s fissure: 

two beings pale, intent to fall forever 
around each other—fumbling at love’s tether …
now separate, now distant, now together.

Originally published by Sonnet Scroll

 
 
Mike Burch Face Book_n
 
Michael R. Burch’s poems, translations, essays, articles and letters have appeared more than 2,000 times in publications which include TIME, USA Today, Writer’s Digest and hundreds of literary journals and websites. His poetry has been translated into Arabic, Czech, Farsi, Gjuha Shqipe, Italian, Macedonian, Russian, Turkish and Vietnamese. He also edits www.thehypertexts.com.

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