Providing grounds for the greening of human language.

 

 

 

 

Desert Names by Mark Penny

Friday, August 1st, 2014

I don’t know the names— No very names. Oh, chapparal. Oh, sage. Vague names. Oh, cactus, tumbleweed. Oh, scorpion. Oh, coiled up shaker of a shaman’s bones. Oh, crook-limbed walker on the knuckled sands. Oh, day-lived blossom, thirsting in its death. Oh, winged portent of the flight of breath. Half-names, Bright shadows In a sun […]

Tonight by Bob Gill

Thursday, July 31st, 2014

The universe is Cold tonight A winter of stars Illuminate the world Its heaven Full of danger And mystery Just tonight An asteroid Three football Fields in length Slipped by Missed us By 1,500,000 miles Small margin Experts say Enough for us For now, maybe Before one hits We live and die Hearing the stories […]

Just by Bob Gill

Tuesday, July 29th, 2014

Just a moment Sipped Full of happiness Just an instant You may have missed Compared to drought The water Of life pours over you In a torrent Underground For centuries It seems And may have been To bubble forth And thunder True ________________________ Bob Gill resides in Berkeley, California. Photo of the Strokkur Geyser in […]

Orange Cup Coral by A.J. Huffman

Thursday, July 24th, 2014

Phallic shafts shock nocturnal waters, wave fingers like fireworks, flags of welcome, of final embrace to small fish daring to flutter about these make-shift flowers. They are their own entertainment, brilliantly blowing, blooming in belligerent pantomime of lighted breath. This crown ring of kings rejoice in banishment, openly celebrating their midnight world. _________________________________________ Photo by […]

The Road to Thunder Road by A.J. Huffman

Wednesday, July 23rd, 2014

is a delayed growl standing several steps behind the starring flash. Backup- singing, supportive round of applause. Darker partner waiting in invisible wings. Eruptive echo marks the distance to point of contact, countdown after-strike. _______________________________________________ Photo by the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration via Wikimedia Commons, 2005. Follow the links for Huffman’s bio and […]

Hibiscus Blooming in Rain by A.J. Huffman

Tuesday, July 22nd, 2014

The garden sogs under persistent downpour. Green grows with a sickly gray clinging like shadows, cloud contamination. In a quiet corner, lone hibiscus stretches petals toward sky, embraces drops battering against brilliance. Resilient as the solar power color emulates, it remains open, a burst of warming reassurance that the sky cannot fall forever. _________________________________________________________ Photo […]

Autumn Moon by A.J. Huffman

Monday, July 21st, 2014

after “Age of Abundance,” by Osnat Tzadok Flares of imaginary fire burn across forest’s crown. Light and leaves come alive, collectively breathe in mirrored mist, rising like smoke from absent flame. My eyes begin to water in belief. This is the image of sulfured Hell. I pray for the salvation of sun- rise. ______________________________________________________ A.J. […]

Cherry Tomatoes by April Salzano

Thursday, July 17th, 2014

Cherry Tomatoes hang in clusters on delicate vines. The plants are caged, potted in the driveway. All summer they have drowned in rain and hose water until flowers became hard green cysts that grew, ripened and split wide open. I salvage what I can into folded shirt-basket though I know no one will eat them. […]

Root Ball by April Salzano

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014

Who gives away their weeping cherry tree, my husband wants to know. Mature, in bloom. He says it deserves a fighting chance. He will prepare the ground, dig the hole by hand, home burial or new beginning, we won’t know for months. Once the blossoms fall to the ground, pink petals could mean something other […]

Western PA by April Salzano

Monday, July 14th, 2014

I love the state I’m in, its mountains and cattle grazing under billboards beside highways, silos standing phallic in foliage, farmland and stretches of nothing along ribbons of winding roads. I count phone poles and fields as landmarks, see the ghosts of steel and loss of populous to warmer weather, cattailed lakes and plenty of […]