MAKER OF VERSES
——————————————————————————–
A maker of verses restores
Some splintered spring in the air
Casting pebbles in watery circles
To construct structures of distinction.
Purifications of the yellow rose
A thronged presence in wider girth
River of mirth in complex patterns
Webbing the weeds in yarned curls.
Some hidden treasures kept alive
In deep discerns of the delved earth
Bribing skeletons for the anchorage
In revised strains of an ancient birth.
***
Egocentrism
by Joan Pond
Keeping his eyes skyward
he views the Perseids.
Thinking,
meteors commune with him.
Facing northeast,
the Geminids display a flagrant shower.
His power is unimaginable;
yet all in his mind.
Walking to work each day,
I see a shooting star and wish.
But the Geminids come and go.
I know these stony balls of ice
merely light the sky,
but I can”t help think
they”re communing
with me, too.
***
In their words:
“Ascent is a literary magazine that specializes in the darker shades of short fiction, publishes poetry with an edge, and features creative photography and art, as well as essays and reviews. From Ascent you can also visit some other interesting pathways. Established since 1997.”
Ascent Aspirations has always been one of my favorite sites because of the diverse nature of their content. I was thinking that I should “get out more” with my writing. There is a feeling of legitimacy that comes from being accepted by editors that feels good this morning as I read my short story they have honored me by publishing in their latest issue. They are a respected site and I should feel honored.
The story is my first short story about a character named Johnson.
The story is rather close to my life and was hard to write. I didn’t know it was so hard. I was inspired to try by my friend, the noted author, Seymour Shubin. His imagery and sense of the inner feelings of the character intrigued me so the ol’ poet/engineer set out to try. Like I say, I didn’t know it would be so hard on my psyche.
It’s a war story that begs the question. Here is my story of war, How Johnson Got Out of the War. Does the selection itself send our best to die?
I urge you to read Ascent Aspirations the Current Issue
Thanksgiving
I’m thankful for
this brown carpet
with human fuzz
the sound of feet above me
the winds howling outside
me warm inside
alone but sheltered
the womb warmth
of my own soul energy
and of those I’ve gladly known
our cascading colors of light
happily perplexing
in this fluctuating perpetuation
of life
2.
the intensity of youth
the sharp, edgy freedom
spending time
coins with their edges rubbed off
that’s what it’s like
to be older
3.
I was three quarters
and felt everything
more than it should be
my hands colder than snow
the wind the howl of the artic
I shivered with Christmas hymns
all the way back to Santa
in the magical frightening world of child
I tingled with glad, knowing numbness
then I was transported
connected to every atom in the cosmos
I was cold and warm
I was there and I wasn’t
I knew and I was innocent
I loved and I was vacant
I was human, vegetation
and the swirling forces
blackness and pure light
then I realized
everything is infused with soul
I am a seed and I have grown
I am a part
I am whole
Thanksgiving Poem by Belinda Subraman
If you like Thanksgiving poem you may want to read Belinda’s Cinco de Mayo poem .
Thank you for your visit.