Nursing home
Clean white
dry sheets
every day now.
There are the memories of another place
another time
wet sheets every day
bladder infection
kidney failure.
No don’t think about it, he says.
The bed pan persons
are doing the job
as important as the doctors
as the nurses
totally
un
heralded
There is a place for you
in my tears
We need
heaven
for you
David Jackson
I can only think of heros poem by Wayne Jackson
everybody writes such neat stuff
about addicts in checkered alleys
who touched the moon.
and a whore in hight heels
limping badly
one heel broken
and sticks and straws and snot
and purple poison sniffed in sacks
of rooms without furniture
and bugs
and sex
but though I try
I can only think of heros
***
Homecoming Poem by Linda Straub
Linda Straub
Homecoming
It was a pink cotton dress
patterned with white daisies,
sleeveless with spagetti straps
that slid off the shoulders
like children who can’t sit still.
It was a navy blue uniform
with seargant’s stripes
and an adjustable belt
anchored on a slim waist,
below the purple heart.
It was a July day in 1969
at a suburban train station
outside of Philadelphia;
no longer “in country”,
now steppin’ on American soil.
It was a white corvair
with red bucket seats
and Dylan on the radio,
each turned up high
and playing for peace.
It was a warrior and his woman
driving by the school yard
where the band played,
but there was no parade–
just two hands exploring.
Linda Straub
***
Innocence Poem by David Michael Jackson
here you shall find me
must find me
we must meet
having met, we must
meet again in the shadows of
truth
beauty shines through the window and
dances with the dust in the air
the cat sits by the window
watching the birds
I sit by the window with your memory
watching for you
in the birds
in the trees
we must meet across the river
in the shade of that tree
that tree we cling to
so the raging waters of the flood
may not drown us in our own
innocence
***
Seas of Mauve Sonnet by Richard Vallance
with thanks to Üzeyir Lokman ÇAYCI and his poem, La mer mauve
When in your eyes I’ve seen seas round of mauve
I find I’ve visualized sunsets there,
yes, sunsets where dusk’s risen in this cove,
where we’ve pampered feet in these seas so fair
we linger hours, the minutes minding not,
the while we sense such shadows as her surf
as soon on us advance, where being caught
by risen tides, grasses blown round on turf
should quake with us, scared half to death by winds!
Where scalars, tides, income with windy night’s,
there’s nothing but a soothing moon rescinds
the sea’s insousciance where she alights!
Where she alights, the moon leaves seas of mauve
in dawn’s eyes as we leave our secret cove.
© Richard Vallance 2004
October 18 2004
PINTEREST Boards: Mycenaean Linear B: Progressive Grammar & Vocabulary, http://pinterest.com/vallance22/mycenaean-linear-b-progressive-grammar-and-vocabul/ and, Knossos & Mycenae, sister civilizations, http://pinterest.com/vallance22/knossos-mycenae-sister-civilizations/
Also poetry publisher, The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium<>Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire<>
Friesen Press, Victoria, B.C., Canada. © August 2013. 35 illustrations in B&W. Author & Title Indexes. 257 pp. 315 sonnets & ghazals in English, French, Spanish, German, Chinese & Persian. http://vallance22.hpage.com
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