Category: Uncategorized

POETRY READING: Gritty, dangerous doll, by Kirsten Warner

Performed by Allison Kampf

Gritty, dangerous doll, by Kirsten Warner

I forage for her, the doll of my disappointment

a spray of brittle twigs
a faggot of fallen fronds
crusty sticks with lesions of lichen

crouched over, calling up my ancient sister.

Then it is only a matter of seeing and she takes shape.

A forked branch and spindly legs start running,
over-wide arm-span
shock of invisible fingers
guts hanging out
circulation unspooled
half a skirt of flax flowers,
all bundled together
leaving a strong stick where her head will go.

Overnight she stands sentinel,
my doll of disappointment,
through my sleepless 4 AM and discarded novels.
My insides agitate like giant kelp in a blowhole.
Somewhere a strange crying
but each time I get up the whimpering stops.

In the morning the pillow is wet.
I’m flimsy yet my ache weighs heavy on the bathroom scales.
I count my losses in the vanity’s distorting mirror.
It feels like something died. Like I never had a chance.

I craft her head from crumpled cellophane
and glinting, spooky transparency,
attach a savage halo
consider lengths of yarn the violent red of secobarbital
but she’s done. I nurse the day

while she fossicks in the underneaths
grubbing out contagion,
cursing humbug and sideshow
drowning out the comfort of friends
muttering spells to turn my gaze away
daubing herself with horse manure
full of grass seed that will eventually sprout green.

POETRY READING: Black Night Sky, by Paula Shaffer

Performed by Allison Kampf

black night sky {genre: fear}
paula shaffer

there is a fear my son will die today
because his skin is black as night

black night sky

that darker fear that whites so dread;
how dare my son dare to breathe,
dare to live

reach for the sky

play by the rules so self-confined;
the “talk” is clear as constant rain,
that reminder of fear each time you leave
your brown skin marked as sin

auto-rejected from the day of birth
your dark skin the color of Earth

i grieve for you with constant fear,
i cry for you when you leave,
i apologize for those ugly clouds
that rue your day, existence’s theme

racism so deep, it never bends
its darkness cast because of skin

i grieve for sons who won’t come home,
laid to rest in a pit of degrade

civil unrest because of skin
unleashes fear you won’t obey

and one more black boy dies today

his last words: i can’t breathe

POETRY READING: Leopard Club Love, by Franco D’Alessandro

Performed by Allison Kampf

LEOPARD CUB LOVE

by Franco D’Alessandro

I’ve loved you like a leopard cub from the day

You stalked into my classroom -flip-flopping

Around the circle of desks- staring at me,

Wondering aloud: “who the hell is this guy?”

You were a problem child I wanted to solve;

So I picked you up and carried you in my gritted teeth,

Slapped you around with a tender paw until you fell into line.

You were just like a lost leopard cub, separated from family,

The one that had a twin but needed to be on his own.

We’re leopards, you and me -social, secretive, and solitary.

But when I spotted you alone,

Laid out -paralyzed- on the ground,

I lept down from my classroom tree

And roared onto the field, to protect you, my cub,

Who, somehow, unreasonably, seemed a part of me.

You crashed like a meteor, at 14, into my life

On that too-hot September day and began to wreak your happy havoc

In a stagnant place that unknowingly longed for you.

Like Odysseus readily recognized his long lost Telemachus,

We knew our souls knew each other.

I still don’t know why I chose you -and you, me-

To let in.

When you asked me to “bring it in”… I held you for that first hug,

I suddenly knew that what life, loss, and lost love

Had long denied me, destiny had laughingly fulfilled.

You were a missing piece I pretended wasn’t necessary.

You accepted my almost barren, childless heart -I thought unworthy of a son’s love.

But answered prayers have a way of walking into

Our empty rooms so quietly.

Your trust I’ve cherished holding;

Pieces of you I carry like secret treasures unfolding.

You -not of my flesh but of my soul;

That silent prayer that -in being answered-

Made me whole.

POETRY READING: Turning the wheel, by Melissa Chaconas

Performed by Allison Kampf

Turning the wheel, by Melissa Chaconas

we are close our car doors
in anger

we shop in frustrations

we give up hope all the time

we remember in primordial love

We run around in

costumes, masks,

we are stuck

we walk hard

we clean hard
to make the pain
disappear
dwell in a
place
in the bottom.

POETRY READING: 9/11 Attacks, by Janelle Barker

Performed by Allison Kampf

9/11 Attacks, by Janelle Barker

The day began like any other r
The sun rose, scattering to work,
Settling into their day, with a smirk.
8.46am thousands of lives, would change,
North Twin Tower was hit by a plane,
People thought, NO, that’s insane.
News came to those, yes it was true,
Some knew and others didn’t have a clue.
Terror attacks was announced
Disbelief from civilians, on the ground.
9.03am, no, not again
The South Tower was hit, oh Amen.
Survivors running for their lives,
Passing the dead, that, they did dread.
Parts of bodies everywhere,
We had no time, to stop to care.
We had to get out, as fast as we could,
Everyone knew, that was understood.

People jumping from the towers,
Things happened in minutes,
Which seem liked hours.
Flights hijacked, 93,77 and 175
All the passengers, tried their best
To stay alive.
Life that day, was out of control,
When the buildings were demolished
It left, a great big hole.
90 countries, lost loved ones,
Firefighters, military
And police,
are many of the rescue Workers,
that now rest in peace.
Estimated up to 19,000
In the towers upon attack,
So hard to believe
That this maybe fact.
Years later, people still dying,
To the families, related this
Is terrifying.
Exposed toxins from ground zero,
Pregnancy losses, cancers
No one can find answers.
A memorial was made
For all to see,
A reminder of life,
No one would disagree.
Pay your respect, for those we lost,
And say a prayer,
For no extra cost.
This moment in history,
the world will remember,
Let’s come together,
United we stand,
Hand in hand,
Let’s show the world what we can withstand

POETRY READING: Demoiselle, by James Morgan-Jones

Performed by Allison Kampf

Demoiselle, by James Morgan-Jones

Let’s be direct: Beautiful Demoiselle.
What naming could be apter? In noon-light
a sliver of midnight blue comes spinning
from Hades’ palette, frailly fluttering,
a butterfly blue from the underworld.
Yet not quite: no sheer lepidopteran
makes this skittery, whirligig descent,
achieves in repose such sleek elegance.

He rests like a svelte blue pin, superbly
singular, wings deep-dipped in indigo:
pure concept lodged brilliant in spinel.
Such exquisite difference brings profound
gratification, a joy extinguished
in the homogenised world we fashion.

When I dream I’ll drink some of his lustre,
bask in the resplendence of my colours –
what flagrant beauty then in dynamism,
such glory mirrored in heaven’s dark glass.

Read Poem: ACORN…, by Valerie Yvette Peterson

Slowly, it detached itself from the branch,
just as a butterfly does its cocoon no longer needed;
there was once a connection.

But there it fell, so quietly and calmly;
brown, crispy, crinkled now and not like the rest that were beautiful and green,
for it is time to wither away and to fall;
but while doing so, is very poised and at ease, as if longing and wishing for this moment.
Gracefully, it strokes the cool crisp wind as it succumbs peacefully to the ground.
But there it lies, hopeless…
as, It became I !
I now must breathe life and remember my foliage!
I must blossom from my hurt,
from my pain, and
I must begin to shear so I can prune and pare.
This is the beginning of my repair,
as
I AM AN ACORN NOW!

My re-watering must begin and the re-planting has to resurface,
As I must gather and reap
so I can begin the re-harvesting of my crop!
But then…
I fall again, as I remember my pain and my hurt.
I return to it and it is too much for me once again…
there it lies, hopeless, no more life…Lifeless now
Atlast…no more waiting to be crushed by the footsteps of life’s wanderers…

Read Poem: Intently Examining…, by Minah Jacobson

Today, I woke up after an astronomical snooze of 11 hours.
I had already broken said experience once throughout the night, though.
Approximately 2:41-2:46 AM, I rose.
Bursting through the door, to release my “only human” bladder; how comical.

I just killed a fruit fly, and to my amazement, I wasn’t phased.

Just like this, everything differs. Now you’re probably wondering overall, what differs in killing a fruit fly? The method in which you go about it, the momentum of your grip, the intensity of your squeeze – or the thoughts throughout? For me within this instance, ‘Twas the ladder. Gratefully enough, it was not a juxtaposition. I sought to do it, and my actions fulfilled said desire. This is where it differs; usually, when it comes to ending the life of another, regardless of its form, I feel remorse and question whether it’s worthwhile or not. Inevitably it isn’t, although acceptably it is when a mosquito is sucking the literal blood out from your meat suit.

I understand how horrid, when out of context, that the last sentences can sound. “When it comes to ending the life of another”… In my realm of things, this specifically pertains to insects. Unless for a means of absolute survival, I could not and would not end the life of any sentient life form. This is an interesting one to ponder, whilst heading forth through the cycle of ones day to day. Alongside, a plethora of other concepts. Contemplate it! How ironically enough, one ponders how they lack the time and or means to ponder… When truly within the instant – you are fulfilling the thing you are questioning. I suppose one could say this is nearly a form of manifestation. Who am I to be said, “one” who could say such a thing, I ask myself. As I type away to the nonsensical existence of my keyboard. Witnessing the chirping and clicking of the keys – formulating what derives from within, into a tangible form which now exists among the physical reality.

This morning, June 30th of 2020, I woke up to my other dog barking at my roommate heading out for work.

In other words, I woke up in a fit of fright; triggers ignited, senses overloaded. Abolishing any means of conjoining my internal fleets in preparation to head forth into another day of the uphill battle. My internal shelves were dismantled; leaving me vulnerable for defeat. Though every person is inevitably perishable, we each share an uncanny ability as well. The knack of perseverance brings into oneself, the light of possibility and potential. Traversing an instinctive reaction, perseverance clasps onto the finite details of one’s insight and carries the subconscious along; igniting correlation with one’s conscience. Absolute duality, headed forth brilliantly; fight or flight becoming the new node. Each intermingling, your psyche questions sensory overload. How will you react? Well, this depends on the accumulated amount of unaddressed aspects of the self. Which exactly? Darling, it is so individualistic to each being. If it were able to be summarized, the dictionary wouldn’t exist.

At the wake of existence, each of us decidedly came here. Whether downtrodden or purely uplifted. It all pans out.

Website: complexminds.weebly.com
Instagram: complexminds.poetry
Facebook: complexerr

Read Poetry: COVID 19: The End or the Beginning?, by Anjana Dutta

LIFE before was a race!
The worldly goods and possessions, we would chase!
But these unpredictable days taught us to not run in a race but to live in the ‘phase’.

The use of internet to this extent could never have been thought!
Meetings from offices, meaningful lessons from institutions, to home it brought.
Corona, a devastation everywhere to be seen OR a virus that has come to clean?
Too many countries are on lockdown,
And see the change- our mother nature is now clean and wearing a crown!

And paradise changing to graveyards?
People are struggling, no food to feed the masses?
Humans are caged and places are shut down,
But animals are moving freely in the town.

I’m thankful to the people who take risk for us,
Let’s pray for these people who are doctors, saviours and the real warriors.
In light of the troubles we have today,
There are a few things I would like to say;

Social distancing must be embraced
For the virus to get completely erased.
Let’s love things a little more,
Let’s value our nature to the core;

Appreciate the skills we have found in us.
Let’s stay strong and not make a fuss.
This deadly virus is not less than a battleground for us,
Let’s fight, overcome obstacles and achieve success!

Read Poetry: Live Again, Anika Anderson

Alive but not living
Surviving but not thriving
Wearing masks, hiding identities
Controlled but not in control
Conforming to roles, titles and positions
Giving all but feeling empty
The meaning of me lost
A life summed
On that precipice of life, I awakened to a revelation
That the the key to me was found in my Creator
The Creator and His creation a relationship never fully explored
So I began seeking to know and understand
About my purpose and design in His master plan
What I discovered was peace, love , joy, trust and intimacy with Him
Most of all I discovered how to live again

Anika Anderson ©