Trees – by Mary Getlein

Elegy for an Immortal – by Kike Wind

She – by Ronald K. Mc Kinley

World of Gray – by Jim Smith

Emptied Cup – by Arist Niciforos

Simply Passing – by Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS

Sunday, February 3 – by Roger Houston

HEY! Where’s The Sidewalk Cafe??? – by Tina Catalina Corcoran

Hurricane Carla As A Bedtime Story – by Paul Beethoven

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Trees

the kids are running around in the dark

it’s cold and I sit huddled on the bench

people are playing baseball at the far end of the park

the trees without leaves are silhouetted in the light

their beautiful branches are outlined in the dusk

the light shines on them and reveals their fluid shapes

the shape of a tree branch resembles water

moving up the tree, coming out in the branches to the leaves

so much beauty all around us

we take for granted, thinking it will always be here

i hope so

i hope our children and future children

have trees to climb, to embrace,

to rest under and look up at

trees that grow so tall and look down at us

and we, with our machines, can cut them down forever

what are we teaching our children

that a tree can teach us, more powerfully,

without words

trees are free, they grow and grow and crack

cement that was put on their roots

the roots rise up and crack them

trees were here first and hopefully forever

they will stand, watching and loving forgetful humans

– Mary Getlein

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Elegy for an Immortal

More constant than a lover

More thoughtful than a second thought

Much smarter than a whip

Dear gentle sparkle of kindness

My Brother of Nature

You Nurture all that is good

O Vessel of Light

You go to the Root

(You Natty Root)

You Soul for Miles

And bop with the best of ‘em

Never ceasing to amaze

A living demonstration of

Love and Grace

I am brought to my knees

Where I remain

Head bowed, my life a secular prayer

You color my world with Love

And show me the way to go home

I’ll see you there

And in my Dreams

Forever Love

By Nike Wind

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She

by Ronald K. Mc Kinley

She matter biased toward energy

A gesture of aroma

A cogent tune of femininity evolving to nurture

Ability more than force

Vitality of earth bound universe

Closed and complete

Sated by the Sun but potent

Artful in deed but only sometimes saying

Half of me but far from less

Passion and purpose

Harmonious movement

Luminous pulled by instinct

Grandmother, Mother, Aunt, Sister, Girlfriend, Wife, Daughter

She.

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World of Gray

(Dedicated to the women artists of Venice)

Trapped in a world of gray

she took out her brush

and painted her way

to freedom.

– Jim Smith

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Emptied Cup

I’ve fallen into slavery

back into the madness

I got the feeling of maybe

Eyes pooling drips of sadness

Lost in emotion

elixer of life

I drank the potion

Now I must fight

The bitter taste

fist clench for a hand

Look around…

You’re in love’s wasteland

blind,

feeling the wall for a descending rope

looking up for a glimpse of hope

not to hang

to end the pain

one to grip

to be pulled from the trench

I kiss your lips

endure the heart’s wrench

Eyes I cannot read

for I am just a pendant or a bead

floating on a chain above your chest,

along with all the rest

around your neck

standing on edge of a wooden ship’s deck

through the waters

I see the wreck

of a thousand men who sailed a love’s notion

to find what’s true in your heart’s ocean

a fool I’d be

to swim in your sea

below teeth await

in a school for me

delirious from the motion

on the deck the cup lies empty

I gladly drank the potion

and fell to love’s slavery

Inspired by Love’s Eternal Angel

Arist Niciforos

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Simply Passing

My roots are

my feet

and my country is

my brain.

In the world

of my nucleic acids,

there are

no borders

that need an army;

no wars

that need a flag;

no dead

that need an anthem;

no gods

that need a tithe.

I’m simply passing

through,

like a shooting star,

free,

destined to disintegrate

into galactic dust

to revive again,

endlessly,

like a New Moon.

—Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS

Los Angeles, 14 October 1990

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22:52 Sunday, February 3rd, 2013, Adullam ….. Embraced by a galactic spiral arm, Among the local group, as they perform An endless diaspora, outward bound. Uncharted regions, emptiness to blend  With nebulous infinities, en masse. On starry, starry nights we watch them pass. They fill our telescopes with fading light. They bathe our retinae, our dimming sight. Aim our array ambitiously, we guess At radio and infra red. We press the boundaries of time, as we pretend To comprehend and measure, to the end. Expanding ever distantly, to form A universe, receding in alarm ….. A valentine for Greta Cobar, from Roger Houston, metaphysical cavalier.

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HEY! Where’s The Sidewalk Cafe???

It was – A Day – Like Today,

In Thee, Early Morn’

Walking Down

The Main Street

In Town…

(Chorus) “Hey! Where’s The Sidewalk Cafe!”
(I’m On My Way ! )

“I’ll Take You There …”

Well, I – Took His Tremblin’ Hand –

As I – Stepped Into – His Van…

He was – Looking for –

A Friendly,

Open, Door…

“Hey! …

He said: “Dennis, Is my name –

A BEACHBOY – Is my Fame!” …

(He was cryin’,

He was tryin’,

To Keep from – Dyin’ …)

“Hey! …

OH! I still can, – Hear his Voice:

“Tequila Sunrise!” – Was his Choice –

After, ALL the Songs –

He’d Written –

He felt like – Quittin’ …

“Hey! …

If, I knew then – That “way back when” …

I’d NEVER see – His Face, again …

I could – Have cared More…

MAYBE – Shared More … Even – (Dared More) …

“Hey! …

I NEVER Dreamed – I’d Sing This Song…

I SWEAR It Seems – He Sings Along…

He’s right here, Drinkin’ …

He’s right here, Thinkin’ …

I see Him WINKIN” …

“Hey! Where’s The Sidewalk Cafe?”
(I’m On My Way!)
“I’ll Take You There …”

Love,

Tina Catalina Corcoran

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Hurricane Carla As A Bedtime Story

The sky, at one point, looked like pink champagne!

Wind? It was about one forty but constant.

Tell us more, Grandpa!

The storm had 113 deathbrides, that were

Small tornadoes spinning in the opposite direction.

Tell us more about Hurricane Carla!!

Wake up and tell us more!

By Paul Beethoven