Stephen Colley

 

Joyous Noise

There are times when all is one
and strings resound with happiness,
with every shade of sky and sun,
with hope and health, with all that‘s best.
 
Music streams through open windows
while I let my fancy run.
When fingers fumble, I’ll begin
again, until the song is done.
 
So all day I sit and spin
my joyous noise till sun is gone.
Notes flood the room as night steals in,
then fade, still floating into dawn.

Sharon Lynne Thompson

RED SWIRL

Beach fog glazes the window. I dance for you within the warm room, pounding lust the only music. Music enough for bare feet on pine ...wood floor to recognize movement, to invent a stomp, yield a slide. Wall after wall passing as I whirl. Easy to lift my red summer skirt for you, easy to feel beautiful, tan thighs a trophy to bestow. Skirt bunched in fingers, easy to tease up inch by inch, up and even higher, the only step left raising the soft fabric over my head. Easy to drop the rippled fabric like something molten at my ankles, leaving me wilder. Unfinished. Lace panties remain. Sheer blouse clinging to shoulders. Lace bra cupping breasts. My dance spinning forward. You shift, closing in. Whisking my white blouse high and off. Chests almost flesh to flesh, small bits of light cloth still playing coy. Our arms touching high, flexing, and high. I catch the scent of you. You moving easily with me. Circling. Mouths open to each other. Breathing for each other. Your last bit of clothing, my last bit of clothing--undone. Gone. Still in circles, spinning until we drop to the floor. You grabbing my skirt; a pillow for my head. Me, wet, lifting open for you. Your hard curve ready to slide in and deep. And deep. Still a dance. Easy to learn this newly joined pace and tempo. Fused, plunging, pushing, dancing. The fog at the window now a heavy drape. Our bodies, our throats, music enough. Music enough.

Lori Wall-Holloway

SHATTER

I rearrange heirlooms inside a hutch
so their beauty can be seen through the glass –
Clear crystal, bone china teacups
with flowers painted on them
along with antique plates passed
down through the generations.

Over and over I arrange the items, much
like how I attempt to organize my life.
So it looks perfect. So it looks just right…

Periodically, thoughts clutter my head
with where I failed and made mistakes.
A feeling of rejection appears from
deep in the recesses of my brain
as I replay a moment with a person
that kicks off a memory of the past.

A tape plays inside my mind
that binds me -
“I can’t be perfect if I’m a failure.”

Instead of moving forward,
I procrastinate. I’m on the fence.
Why risk anymore rejection?
Why reach out to another again?
Fear locks me in.
Giving up altogether
seems like a better choice.

Yes, I’ll just give up until –
SHATTER!!

A realization dawns as my
heart and mind are challenged
with false beliefs of myself
versus what is real.

Who am I really?
Not what you want me to be.
I don’t need to be perfect
for your validation.

The One who created me
will still love and value me,
even when I make mistakes.

I take a deep breath
And repeat to myself –
“Let my good be good enough,”
as I straighten a picture
on a crooked wall.

Lori Wall-Holloway

SPOOK

(For Jenny)

I look with pride in the mirror at my
creation. Wearing a long, flowing black
dress with red bloodlike paint splattered on it,
I smile at my ghoulish make-up that sets
it off. I am now all set to depart
to my assignment, much to Mom’s chagrin –

In a makeshift building, I climb up and
down rafters, striking fear into those who
dare to enter. By jumping either in
front or in back of a patron, I cause
fear. My element of surprise makes me
one of the best spooks of the group. Although,
I may take it easy on the little
kids, I enjoy the challenge to make the
big jocks scream or run from me to the next
section. This is especially if I
hear the jocks brag how nothing will scare them.
Ha, ha, ha – I am hailed as the best spook
who draws the crowd. Night after night I play
the part. I get daring, enjoying my
role until – Oh no! My foot slips and I
find myself falling, falling and then BAM!

The cushions I fall on do not break my
fall very well. I’m shaking and in pain.
I feel someone quickly help me up to
get away so the action can resume.

I suppose this ends my stint as the best
spook the Boy Scouts had in their Haunted House.

Don Kingfisher Campbell

FILM

eyes open
slide out of bed
shuffle to the bathroom
like The Mummy
can barely see

shower, dress
throw on a jacket
hop in car
like Robert Mitchum
flying to his Angel Face

a woman
Out Of The Past
looking as lovely
as ever as if
Jane Greer still lives

ride together
to the beach, stroll
stop to gaze at littered shore
like Charlton Heston and his mate
on The Planet Of The Apes

Eileen Martinez

UNTITLED

Life is what it’s meant to be I say,

We emerge from the womb of our dear mothers

Put out and tested in this world of dreams

To make our way and try to survive the realities of what we awake to each day

Trying to catch a glimpse of the sunrises, the sunsets and all the creations that were made for us to value

Do we value them, do we value ourselves I say,

We make up our lives as we go along and we are to blame for whatever we encounter

There are no promises of the day, of tomorrow, of the future

Cherish and value what is present and offered to you

And abolish all things unnecessary and enjoy the gift of your life.

Lori Wall-Holloway

WIND THROUGH THE EYES OF A TWO YEAR OLD

(For Robert)

Puffs of air blow
on my face,
my arms
and my legs,
but I still want to stay
outside and play.
The puffs get
stronger and stronger,
until suddenly the trees
become giant monsters
waving their huge tree arms.

Afraid, I run into the house
with the wind chasing me,
pushing me from behind.
A loud sound makes me stop
and turn in the doorway.
The monsters are shaking
their large green hands
at each other and look
like they’re fighting.
They make loud noises,
and their big brown bodies
bend so far to the ground,
they look like they will break.

I hurry inside and slam
the door against the wind
so I can watch the fight
from the window.
The monster trees scare me.
They can’t get me inside the house.