Lynn White… Which Way & Cabbage Dream

 
 

Which Way

I’m on the edge of the horizon
looking back.
There’s no looking forwards.
Looking up
I can see the sky,
blue or grey like the sea.
Reflected sunlight,
clouds rippling like waves
making shapes in the sand.
 
Wave shapes on the land.
 
Sometimes it’s so bright
I can’t tell the blue from the grey,
the cloud from the clear,
the sky from the sea.
The light blinds me.
It’s too bright for my eyes
and leaves me confused
on the edge of the horizon,
on a thin line
with only one way to go.
 
First published in Calliope, October 2015

 

 

 

Cabbage Dreams

I am dreaming my cabbage dream.
I’m peeling off the outer leaves
to find what lies hidden beneath.
Looks much the same as the outer leaf,
a little less battered and crinkled
but fundamentally the same.
Now for the next layer.
There’s a drop of water
shining full of light
and something darker, more solid,
the leavings of some hidden creature.
Another layer reveals the holes
and the sleepy caterpillar
dreaming…
without his pipe
without his crown,
so unsure of
his own
identity,
much less mine.
If I peel off
layer after layer until
I get to the heart of it,
will I understand where I’ve come from
and be able to unpack the dream,
find the pipe and put the pieces
together, make sense of the
cabbage, crown the king.
 
First published in Poetry Breakfast, June 11, 2016

 

 

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. Her poem ‘A Rose For Gaza’ was shortlisted for the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition 2014 and has since appeared in several journals and anthologies. Poems have also recently been included in several anthologies including – Harbinger Asylum’s ‘To Hold A Moment Still’, Stacey Savage’s ‘We Are Poetry, an Anthology of Love poems’, Community Arts Ink’s ‘Reclaiming Our Voices’, Vagabond Press, ‘The Border Crossed Us’, ‘Civilised Beasts’ from Weasel Press, Silver Birch Press ‘Alice In Wonderland’ and a number of on line and print journals.

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lynn-White-Poetry/1603675983213077?fref=ts

lynnwhitepoetry.blogspot.com

 

Copyright © 2017 by Lynn White

 

 

 

 

 

 

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B.Z. Niditch… 20/20

 

20/20

Fervent
to explore miles
all that’s out
with Beat Poet eyes,
the Beatles,
now in Japanese
Dylan Thomas
Spinning with us
by the bee colony
investigation
out on the islands
close to lyrics,
at first shy
then exploding
in optimum visions.

 

B.Z. Niditch is a poet, playwright, fiction writer and teacher who resides in Brookline, Massachusetts. His work is widely published in journals and magazines throughout the world, including:Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Art; The Literary Review; Denver Quarterly; HawaiiReview; LeGuepard (France); Kadmos (France); Prism International; Jejune (Czech Republic); Leopold Bloom (Budapest); Antioch Review; and Prairie Schooner, among others. His latest poetry collections are “Lorca at Sevilla”,”Captive Cities.”

Copyright © 2015 by B.Z. Niditch

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dennis Caswell… To Fire

 

To Fire

O leaping catharsis of atomic libido,
you have us. You sold yourself as a god
who comes when he’s called, and now
we lick the sludge off the bottoms
of primeval vegetable drawers
so we’ll never need to leave home
without a tankful of you.
BANG! Remember that?
That was the cosmos beginning.
Back then, you were everywhere
and everything, but now you’ve grown older
and learned to calm down, though sometimes
us clots of you feel you still in there.
Heraclitus didn’t need Einstein to know, “All things are
an exchange for fire, and fire for all things.”
For instance, I can exchange 3500 bucks
for a lovely certificate entitling me
to build confidence and foster a sense of empowerment
by instructing seekers to walk on you.
A Viking circumambulates land
holding a gobbet of you,
and that proves he owns it
(the land, not you).
I can’t figure out if you’re a genius
for making yourself the go-to metaphor
for both terror and sex, or if
you’re as reckless and stupid
as an incurable virus that has no idea
it’s killing its dinner. You have us locked
inside Earth’s garage, with your many engines
running, and not even Vulcan,
Vesta, Nusku, Girru, Agni, Pele,
or Kagutsuchi can make a wish
and blow you away.

 

Dennis Caswell is the author of the poetry collection Phlogiston, published by Floating Bridge Press in 2012. His work has appeared in Raven Chronicles, Floating Bridge Review, Crab Creek Review, and assorted other journals and anthologies. He lives outside Woodinville, Washington and works in the aviation industry.

Copyright © 2015 by Dennis Caswell

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frank C. Praeger… Neutral

 

Neutral

Gypsum, quartz,
an antinomy of parts;
renegade
recused to be host
who wanted to have joggled
rather than to have been a joke.
Flagrant, even if neutral,
dismissive as a gentled touch,
as to have been
revoked.
Thus, seized, regressed while pining for
three days now, a fortuity
that would leave one breathless,
a tocsin for self
whose rampages,
unlikely august,
would go unnoticed.

 

Copyright © 2015 by Frank C. Praeger

 

 

 

 

 

 

Erin J. Jones… Once More An End

 

Once More An End

Once more an end
Once more a beginning
A loving hand has turned away
The spirit, though saddened, moves forward
Love’s hope still dreams
The sun will rise again
A new day shall dawn

 

Erin Jones was born in Wisconsin and raised in Arkansas. After high school he served in the U.S. Army as a cavalry scout before returning to school to earn B.As in communication and economics. He is now a mild mannered salesperson by day and a struggling writer by night.

Copyright © 2015 by Erin Jones