MM's Represented Poems for 2008 Options

[Cleo_Serapis]

JANUARY SELECTION:



Time Piece by Frances Kennedy


Whoever said time heals all wounds has lied
like those who have will claim forgiveness brings
forgetting sooner. Sorrow, stripped of pride,
has little aptitude for hope that springs
eternally in hearts less slung by slings
and arrows, or with fortitude not mine.
Unreasoned passion, stemmed, stills everything
except a coiled impulse to unwind
pretending in the face of all that I’m just fine.

[Cleo_Serapis]

MARCH SELECTIONS:


In Rion's Eye by Lorraine M. Kanter


I see through gossamery clouds
a world of hatred's tryst,
where pixies poise to tame cruel beasts
in homelands they resist;

of voiceless thoughts and hushed unrest
upon strong backs they ride
of changelings, coasting on the wind
through places where they'll hide.

I see through gossamery clouds
a most unlikely pair,
through paradigms of unity
defrock an evil heir.

Together sprite and dragon vow
like times so long ago,
to bring civility and peace
to those they come to know.

I see through gossamery clouds
a world of moral mien…
and sit upon this star of mine
where never I’ll be seen.

It matters not that I'm alive
to see what came before --
as dawn awakes, I’ll take my leave
but never close my door.

I see through gossamery clouds
a tear in Rion’s Eye,
where flights of faith obscure my view --
I quietly glide by.

_{Author's notes:
This is part of a longer story about a fantasy world and the actions of the primary characters. Changeling is a reference to a character of a dragon race that adopts the pixies/sprites desire to bring civility and peace to the world. Rion is the world they live in personified.}

Colors of Hate by Larry D. Jennings


Winds ride
long empty schoolyard swings,
shake rusty snow on un-scuffed sand.
Orange clouds still glow from strange mushrooms
as bloated worms feed; garish green.
Another sunset, purple smears to blood red;
unseen! Sky bruises' glow soon fades to night.
Gray stones now resting, time-worn smooth,
once etched to mark a species...gone!
White silence, deafening. Unheard
knell's echo's stilled
by Time's sure hand.
Black comes at last,
on unshod hooves.
The Four in One
reap war's foul crop.

Waiting for Andromeda by Linda E. Cable


How do I fathom these atoms
that have aligned to make a me
and not this toast upon my plate?

Cosmic specks, not a breath
between them, become content and color,
to compose a singularity between
my hand and the handle of a cup.

In this bowl of microcosmic soup,
I watch my body rearrange,
as if pressed for time,
anxious to disconnect
and join the incandescence
amid inconsequential worlds.

My dust desires to dance
in the dominions of Andromeda.