Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Oct. 2010 Poetry Page

Poetry is what...
makes you know that...
your bliss and suffering 
- Dylan thomas

 by Mary Ellen Shaughan

Mama navigated the car
across the tray-flat landscape
made gray with rain.

I curled up in the corner of the back seat,
hypnotized by the motion of the wipers –
back and forth, back and forth.

Halfway home, I opened my eyes and
stared at two skinny guys dancing on the windshield.
They were doing the Samba, doing the Mambo,
feet tapping across the glass.

I could hear the walking bass
and the wire brush sliding across
the face of the drum.

When Mama braked, I opened my eyes again.
The rain had stopped; the wipers reclined.
I searched the windshield,
but the dancing men were gone.

I looked at Mama – stern, no-nonsense Mama.
No, she would not believe me;
she might even wash out my mouth with hard white soap
for a story such as this.

 And who would blame her?

MARY ELLEN SHAUGHAN calls herself an “accidental poet,”since her goal was to write exquisite short stories.  Her poetry has been published in Timber Creek Review, Foliate Oak, Peregrine, The Mid-America Poetry Review and elsewhere.  She calls Western Massachusetts home.  Contact

by Raquel D. Bailey
leaves' shadows dance   
 in the window
     a paper doll

RAQUEL D. BAILEY is the Founding Editor of Lyrical Passion Poetry E-Zine, sponsoring haiku, tanka & short fiction contests year round. Her poetry works appear in The Heron's Nest, Atlas Poetica, The Smoking Poet, Other Poetry, EPN, Asahi Haikuist Network, Modern Haiku, Acorn, Red Lights, Simply Haiku, Presence, among many others.  Contact  
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 by Floriana Hall
Sunshine days like a blanket of cheer
Indian summer again this year
Splendor of ornate carpet of leaves
Wonderful delight, like make believe.

Playful clouds dance across the sky
Solar eclipse seen with naked eye
Shine through shadow of night
Red moon visible in len's sight.

Planting bulbs to grow in spring
Taking down the old porch swing
Breathing in fresh autumn air
Taking walks without a care.

Scampering squirrels burying nuts
Preparing for winter's scuttlebutt
Woolly bears dark or light covering
Species of birds still hovering.

Glorious days of sumptuous warmth
Gradually fade into winds from north
The entire world so colorful
Cups runneth over, they are full.

FLORIANA HALL is the author of 12 books, six nonfiction and six inspirational poetry books.  Her nonfiction book, FRANCIS, NOT THE SAINT has recently been translated into Spanish (FRANCISCO, NO EL SANTO). Her new poetry book SELECT SANDS OF RHYME AND REASON and young children's book SIMPLE PLEASURES are now available at and . Floriana teaches YOU, ME & POETRY at . Contact   Website  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

by Maria Ercilla
I don’t believe 
I have truly lived a moment
until I write it down,
and my mind and eye and heart 
all come together 
in electric energy 
that courses through my fingers 
and into my pen 
and it is suddenly all there in front of me
resplendent in black ink.

MARIA ERCILLA has taught English, ESL and Special Education to high school students for the past twenty-three years.  Her latest writing accomplishments are Second Place in last year's Writer's Digest Competition for Poetry and publication in Calyx and CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE LATINO SOUL. She has written a short story collection, THIRTEEN MIRACLES AND COUNTING and is working on her second novel. Maria lives in Los Angeles, CA with her family.  Contact

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

by Ron Koppelberger
Caught by the ascending dreams of illusion,
By lilac and poesy in silken petaled glow,
A fellowship of dawn’s early yearning 
and summit,
The nature of prospering leaves 
and hazy mists,
A gasp and eager whisper, 
Delivered unto sweet
Perfumed alliances in
Hues of amber expectation--
Proof in the pure shades 
of Autumn.

RON KOPPELBERGER aspires to be a force in writing and publishing.  Over the past years, he’s written 15 novels, 79 books of poetry and published 100 poems in a variety of periodicals. Ron  lives in Florida and is a member of The American Poets Society.  Of his work, he adds,  “I love to offer an experience to the reader.”  Contact  

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by Sanjeev Chhiber
it was that time
at sunset when dust flew
it grew dark
and the cows came home
far away in the forest
nests were warm again
a cool wind blew
sleep reigned
then a light
lo millions more
fireflies dancing
with amber glows
cant you all see the 
vapor flows
the dancing green
the glancing boughs
he lays out light
every night
if only we 
could see it

SANJEEV CHHIBER is a senior cancer surgeon in New Delhi, who says much too modestly, “I am but an amateur who etches lines on paper and sometimes virtual paper.”  Contact  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
THE 99
by cm

my family
miserably poor
inching south
scratching north
up and down the 99,
every dogtown
in between

just off the freeway
small, dusty, hot

tomato fields, grape fields,
chicken, plants and
scrubbing floors

we lived, survived,
near on-ramps
in every town

dusk to dawn
tired, wilted,
under that blistering sun

the 99,
and streaming
down the middle
of my soul

CHARLES MARIANO is the author of THE WHOLE ENCHILADA:  Recipes, Photos and Stories from Merced, CA, available at Amazon.comCharles is, in his own words,  "Elusive, reclusive, and otherwise quiet."  Contact 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

by Frank De Canio

In the Spring all I thought about
was sowing seeds in distant lands.
I feasted on the fruitful yield of summer
waiting for the gathering of Fall’s harvest.
Now my labor’s almost done,
and with the first frost of winter
when fields are covered with snow,
my thoughts turn homeward.

FRANK DE CANIO was born and bred in New Jersey.  He loves music of all kind, from Back to Amy Winehouse.  Shakespeare is his consolation. His work has appeared in Sunken Lines, Genie, Write On!!, Red Owl, Love‘s Chance, Words of Wisdom and more.  On the web, he’s on on POETZ, Contemporary Rhyme, Language and Culture, and Thick with Conviction. Contact
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

by William J. Jackson
Sometimes dreams seem impossibly big
they make you think they're fears but
Remember: great dawn's the real 'big thing'
Small sounds echo,
adrenalin fills your skull
sometimes dreams can seem so damn big
you lose perspective, caving in
to shadows cast by mirrors
remember great dawn's the real 'big thing'
Know you're guarded by cosmic wings
and you can't see love because it's clear
remember: great dawn’s the real 'big thing'

WILLIAM J. JACKSON is the author of a novel, Diving for Carlos, about growing up Midwest, available at He grew up in Illinois, and has lived in New York City, the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, and in Chennai, India. He is currently working on a suspense novel set. Contact 

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by Jacqueline Howett

Looking back, simple dreams took a lifetime.
To grow up, get to work,
Plunged deep in stage fright,
so near the edge.
Survival came; it’s time to eat
With a free spirit, I flow.
In courage I rise up,
Leaving codependent trails behind,
My face a fixation, smiles on.
Five years hence in the working routine,
My independence merged,
A means to view the world

JACQUELINE HOWETT is a English-Greek writer and artist currently living in Florida. She has published poems, articles, fiction and cover art and is presently editing several novels. Contact  
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by Alan M. Toback
Oh, Lord, save me from the evils of stress
You raised your arms
So heavy from the earthly trials of duress
I humbly bow to your will and kindness of heart
Never again to go through life
Without your love is a place to start
God, I need you to hear
My spoken words are not always clear
I am trusting that you understand me
That all I am is because of thee
My life I humbly leave in your hands
The hungering soul within graciously stands
But, my Lord, I do have questions of thee
I have never known how to ask you
“Why has my life been as such?”
Those words are thoughts deep within me
I do not ask the age old “why”
It’s just my very soul that sometimes cries
This hunger of my soul foreshadows dreams of old
Wanting and searching this earthly presence for Thee

ALAN M. TOBACK's work has been published in Museitup Club's “The Muse On Writing,” Shadow poetry’s anthology “Before The Last Teardrop Falls”, Literati journal, Passages In Time anthology by JMW Publishing Co., on and, to name a few. Alan writes free verse style straight from the heart. He now writes flash fiction and prose, as well. Contact

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by Nell Berry
If I were a painter, I’d paint the whole wide world.
I’d paint God’s love for everyone, including boys and girls.
I’d paint the mighty oak tree, its sinews towering strong
and then I’d paint a sunrise, to last the whole day long.
Inspired by Nature’s beauty, guided by Father God,
I’d color every evil thing and change the whole façade;
to cover all the ugliness, the face of God to see
and soon all of Creation, the color of Jesus would be.
In total surrender, I’d seek to color Wise,
to reflect the beauty in Faithfulness, as seen in Father’s eyes.
His Wisdom I would paint in blue,
compassion, the color purple.
His Mercy would be the faintest hue
of rose petals, soft and supple.
Then I would complete the canvas by painting in a Heart;
the Heart of God in everyone that makes us be a part.
His Love coursing through our veins
to give His Sweet, Sweet Spirit.
We would all be kinfolk then, no tint of evil in it.
If I were asked to paint a portrait of the loveliest thing, I’d start,
by painting love in every human heart.
NELL BERRY is a mother of four, grandmother of nine and great grandmother of six. Married to the same man for sixty years in June; author of one published book; now resides in W.Virginia. She is a Christian and writes all inspirational poetry/song lyrics and short stories. Contact  

october celebrity poet

dylan thomas 

nationality:  welsh

Light breaks where 

no sun shines
visit dylan thomas’ official site at

Quoted for educational purposes only.
All work the copyright of the respective authors.

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