POEM:
The Maga will deliver what is owed
from a great hardware store
a department, the section
necessary fixtures and adhesives
for the job, guaranteed to cement
what’s so rickety, piles as they shift
rise majestic, up to high heaven
where Maga sits with open hands
open arms, flowing gown, granting.
POEM:
Summer arrives
in a dazzle
of pink blooms.
The gardener admires
my petals with his fingers.
Reach for the sky!
Seasons pass. Rivers slow. The gardener comes in shadow — a small flask
of rain.
A brutal cutting!
Tendrils reach out for him, asking
“Why?” as they fall.
His tapping boots fade.
I curl in grief, hidden
under earth’s dark starve.
Endless night, silence.
Who am I without my bloom,
my admirer?
From the stillness, Spring
enters in a rush to wake
‘n shake me up.
Why didn’t I know? Pruning
brings new lustrous blooms.
It was only winter.
ani martin 2024
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
In the fading light of a weary day,
A man stands firm, through shadows play,
His heart a drum, steady and loud,
Facing the storms, beneath the shroud.
Each breath a battle, each step a test,
He feels the weight of the world on his chest,
Memories flash like sparks in the night,
Fueling the fire for his final fight.
With scars like stories etched on his skin,
He fights not for glory, but the strength within,
For love ones lost, for dreams not yet dreamed,
In the depths of struggle, hope still gleamed.
The echoes of doubt swirl thick in the air,
Yet he draws from the courage that’s always been there,
As shadows converge, he raises his hand,
Determined to stand, to make his last stand.
With one final roar, he charges the night,
A blaze in his heart, a warrior’s light,
For in this last moment, he knows he’s alive,
And through the darkness, his spirit will thrive.
When the dust settles and silence reigns,
He’ll leave behind echoes of laughter and pain,
For though the fight ends, the spirit ignites,
In the heart of a man who embraced his last fight.
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
The sky opens,
raindrops fall,
and sunlight breaks the clouds,
casting its glow
throughout my backyard.
An event, as if tailored for me—
a dance of water and light.
The universe is communicating
through the space between.
I am in tune with the
presence of something greater,
an ephemeral moment,
a timeless memory.
The spectacle is brief,
but its message stays:
there is no separation,
no boundary between struggle and peace,
rain and sun—
only moments of balance
where everything converges.
In this stillness,
I feel the connection—
the universe whispering softly,
and I am here,
grateful for this moment.
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
She climbed to the top of the mountain
In her ascent
She failed to see
Red roses blooming, so fair, so sweet
Grass green growing there
Purple lilacs, stalks so bright
Pink glowing sky
Turning white clouds red by and by
Blue fading into black
Her steps show her track
Higher and higher
No turning back
On and on, no pause or rest
Ever approaching the summit, the peak
Where at last she placed her feet
Looking down
All around
Brings a tear to her eye
So on the way down
She doesn’t even try
She stops at every flower
Inhaling their scents
Touches the petals
Feels them on her skin
Throws them into the wind
To see the colors fly
She climbed, continued
She twirls, dances
Like nothing else matters
No one is watching
Just her and the sky
Realizes here on the ground
She could have found
What she was climbing for …
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
My mother is dead.
My father is dead.
My brother is dead.
My other brother is dead.
My sister is dead.
My nephew is dead.
My son is dead.
When will my family stop dying?
I’m never going to get used to it.
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
1
The cello stands in silence, holding
Its breath.
In one baton flick,
everything changes.
2
In music, rests and notes possess equal power –
Practice both. You’ll discover
life’s balance.
3
Framed family photos hang,
smiles obscuring the fights before the
CLICK
Now, love and laughter are all that’s captured
in the snapshots’ glow.
4
Nothing will be handed
to you on a silver platter.
Chase after the waiter
and only then will you uncover
the cloche and its rewards.
5
Tempting you through the glass,
college hoodies with bold colors and stitched logos
vie for your attention.
Don’t succumb to their calls
until you’ve thought it through:
wait
for the right one to fit.
6
Instruments gather on stage,
different in shape and sound.
Their many tunes become one
and the pressure on the lone cello is
dispersed.
7
The gold-coated watch dulls
with each passing tick,
while our past shines brighter than any gilded surface.
The richness of our experiences
hold more value than gold
ever could.
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
back
from the dead
The Painted Ladies
tremble
in the heather
the change has come
as ephemeral Large Blues
emerge
from their buried
chamber
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
Capri is framed by the east window,
Mount Vesuvius centers in the west. Chandeliers
suspend high, trapeze artists erupting their crystal
blooms to guide a Mardi Gras of painted clay and gesso
far below ceiling
vaults. Do you recall sunset velvet splayed across marble
and moss of the ruin over there? I imagined you imagining
that glow coming from spits of lava exhaled by your crater-mountain-god, disrupting ground
more than we shook the bed. Your voice rumbled, your eyes ignited, instructing
me your lover
was that volcano, not I. It was my gift to you, unwrapped
in eternal, unpredictable threat against what I thought was only sky. Your body
flows away, mercury untamed in the shadow of that volcano, resting
your memory where it breathes potent. I lost sovereignty by its
annexation of you.
You need that volcano like seed does soil,
smoke does fire,
Earth does Sun.
Performed by Val Cole
POEM:
I turned fifty this year
Which made me reflect
That at best I have twenty
Good years left before
My life is basically over
As seventy is pushing it
For a man these days
This of course assumes
I don’t get hit by a bus tomorrow
Or even later today
Or have a heart attack
Stroke
Aneurysm
Staph infection
Or anything else
That could end my life prematurely
This realization shocked me
As I basically now have the lifespan
Of a small dog
Or cat
Wow
That kind of thinking can depress
A man such as me
Who in the best of times
Is naturally pessimistic
So I won’t think of it again
Until I’m seventy
Unless I die before
