e c l e c t i c a
p o e t r y
e c l e c t i c a
p o e t r y
(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)
Poems containing the words tiresome, amber, bulletin, and nap.
The woman, a broad-set backstroker in her 30s,
came every M/W/F, dressed like an orca in all black
one-piece…
Jordan Cobb
On the Actualization of Dreams
An empty promise is still a promise.
Jim Murdoch
Why I Wanted To Be An Astronomer
It was the streetlights. I was a boy
in the Bronx, and the streetlights
were a kind of enemy…
J.R. Solonche
Life is a skate park after all and I’m a klutz.
Lana Hechtman Ayers
In front of me, a seagull, the last inhabitant of this island,
ascends from the wet rocks, four meters into its flight,
then five,…
Daniel Gene Barlekamp
Time
is my only expense. I grow fat on my watch. No one cares.
Joel Fry
You colored the eyes
of Liz Taylor, the petals
of the tiny wild flower
that bears your name
Joyce Brinkman
Jóhonaa\'éí Daaztsą´ (Solar Eclipse)
Light opens its hand to the land
again
Tina Denetclaw
My Mother Winter/Father Spring
Dark coming early against Cold Mountain, Turner Classics
flickering blue through the house.
Carol Parris Krauss
I Was Only A Little Sad When You Died
I imagine you urged
women my age to corral their husbands because I am fond of married men.
Loukia Borrell
The Unlikely Honor of Not Paying Attention
Who would have thought their squatting on my porch
would lead to legends about an enormous creature
who did not notice their droppings on his shoulder…
Juan Pablo Mobili
Here is my hand
as we uncurtain Oz and board the basket
Lisa Delan
I am given to so much grumbling I think I must sound
like a freight train clacking and clanging across the tracks…
Jenny Root
When I Emerged From Sleep, I Was Fishing With Raymond Carver
He was telling me about Tess.
I don’t know Raymond. Or Tess.
Michael J. Galko
In this daydream it’s as though I've been given
a life-saving task that must be solved in 15 days
Elizabeth Rose
And for my anger, I’ve looked
to this land’s winter
that makes memories buckle
to the surface like bay ice.
Haresh Bhojwani
You’d jump off
to buy a sausage roll from a woman
on the platform, and I’d sit stunned
watching you disappear
Ruth Bavetta
you let pure joy
seize your whole body
Dolo Diaz
You drifted
because you had no place
between the frenzy and night
Peter Krok
The jar of eggs floating in gray water,
the sign, 25 cents an egg.
Fran Rose Schumer
Holidays feel like someone
lost in the wrong story.
John Grey
My father singing and smoking,
the happiest man I’d ever known, until he died at 46.
Steve Cushman
Eighteen Months, Two Stories Up
In memory, I cannot even see
the thing I’m after, just the vague gray ghost
of sidewalk down below, somewhere a tree.
David Rosenthal
