- Wordless Whisper – Karl Abrams
- What Mates AMerica, America? – Hal Bogotch
- The Return – krista schwimmeer
- All You Are – Ronald K. McKinley
- Almost There – Janet Phelan
- Sacred Places – Jim Smith
- LAPD Why Did You Tow? – Ray Chase
By Karl Abrams
While the foggy mountains of San Jacinto, still wear their early morning winter clouds like misty half darkened haloes, I still wait to see you again. Usually you’re just too far away to see except in foggy sacred dreams. It is there that a transformative glow of some prehistoric dawn mixes with changeless ever-changing waterfalls that then roll away in awe and splendor leaving a soft pine smell in a cold starry night that first speaks in thunder and vision and then guides as a wordless whisper of where yet to start again. ———— What Makes America, America?
Is it a wild ideal? Is it a fair square deal? Is it a mountain of dough? Is it a cool free throw?
Is it the pet rock craze? Is it the summer days? Is it an ice cream scoop? Is it the pigeon poop?
Is it a riot girl? Is it the Tilt-a-Whirl? Is it the bold bebop? Is it a new damp mop?
Is it the zoot suit gas? Is it a deep morass? Is it the edge of night? Is it a chick delight?
Is it the Jesus shtick? Is it an Exxon slick? Is it a B-52? Is it Siouxsie Sioux?
Is it a matchbox car? Is it a steel guitar? Is it the Wolfman Jack? Is it the future back?
Is it a punctured lung? Is it Mao Tse-tung? Is it a coiled rope? Is it undying hope?
–Hal Bogotch ———– The Return
It is true, then: there is a kind of holiness that stalks you when your heart, stoned & pitted by everyday acrimony & atrocity seeks the Cave of Dissolution. Then, the Holy hounds you on certain, strong paws startling you with a snarl as she easily strides through the heavens & hells concocted by you to block the entrance to your final lair. As she leaps at you, she becomes the aurora borealis blazing through even your bones to reveal at last, the Wondrous Self! And so, the treasure is gained. The cave dissolves. There is nothing left to do but Return.
–krista schwimmer ———— All You Are
By Ronald K. McKinley One particle at a time Arrange yourself Place your beliefs around your kin Nest your loves far from any void The smallest part of who you are can not be lost You are more than what you see The light and significant The words on this page Sent you out Flux and Flow Pulsed to your step The Sun has set Rises somewhere else You slow down But do not stop Some is revealed not what is lost Born here Dead somewhere else Hear all you can but do not listen What you know can not be taught Lost is sometimes found Start before you begin You will never be behind. All you Are is more than enough ———— Almost There
It’s only a year or two until it all falls apart You walk through the darkling streets away from the tiny mountain village as the lasts streetlamp illuminates an apron of falling snow unfurling in the oval amber glow
No one has walked this way for hours, maybe days There are no tracks to follow no signs to let you know if you’ve really strayed too far this time
The world here is solitary its secrets lie buried you can’t tell where the street ends and the woods begin everything has fused into a great, glistening way
and you know too much and you now what that means in times like these
Every step takes you further and deeper and stronger experience peeling off and melting away leaving you light condensed to the crystalline form of what you must do
A nearby spruce groans a branch splintering off under its icy white weight
No one would ever know if you didn’t turn back
Somewhere, a tight knot is loosened your last restraints fall away
The wind scissors your breath the sky gathers its folds around you
you are almost there
–Janet Phelan ———— Sacred Places
By Jim Smith
There are sacred places in the woods first recognized by the Tongva people and revered to this day.
And who would not stand in awe of a mountain spring or a mighty rock thrusting towards heaven amid the woodland silence, and the subtle sounds.
The sacred is where you find it. Here in Venice, the hidden Redwood, Japanese gardens and impossible flowers.
And walking toward the center, the Circle, there is a Temple on a rise of ground, Inside is a space like the Greeks once knew.
In ancient times they looked up in awe at the mighty Apollo, or the wise Athena, until their calm places were pulled down by Barbarians, blind to the sacred.
Inside our Temple, the deified Abbot looks down and watches us through the journeys of our lives as we embrace the Sacred, or turn away. ———— LAPD Why Did You Tow?
Late November morning before the sun was up Heard a motor running wondered what the fuck It was two cop cars not hard to mistake Flashing lights on top four cops just in case
I opened the door and the man said Hey Get your things get out we’re towing it away Not my motorhome I need it every day Get your things get out we’re towning it any way
LAPD why do you hate me so LAPD something I gotta know Was it something that I said or did Hey I’m a legal citizen
Said you were only doing your job Taking your orders from the rank above I wouldn’t ever want your job Your little tow cost me over nine hun
You didn’t have to tow me away Didn’t want to hear what I had to say That anger on your face is not ok You didn’t have to tow me away
LAPD why do you hate me so LAPD something I gotta know Was it something that I said or did Hey I’m a legal citizen
Why do you hate me so Your attitude has got to go You never smiled at me ya know I paid taxes forty years or more
Why do you hate me so Something I got to know Why did you tow Why did you tow Why did you tow Why did you tow
–Ray Chase
Categories: Poetry