A Mormon literary backcountry where words and place come together.

 

 

 

 

When I See by Ashley Suzanne Musick

Monday, November 7th, 2011

That industrious black-banded yellow worker, the bee, and a dragonfly soar swiftly, silently through the sky
The glowing rosy crescent rising slowly after the iridescent sunset and the stars glinting like jewels amidst a sky as black as tar
The fresh greenery mushroom every spring and the rolling hills with their lush grassy frills
The sun shielded by [...]

Seeing is Pleasure by Sonnet Mondal

Tuesday, July 19th, 2011

The 7 o’ clock was hot again, hotter than any 7 o’ clock.
A drop of sweat travelling down my cheek
In search of destination stopped suddenly
And I rubbed it off, removing its existence.
I went up for a glass of glucose to see
Ants caving in there;
The glass had one inch water with dead ants floating—
Perhaps they have [...]

Vote for your favorite 2011 Spring Poetry Runoff poems

Monday, May 9th, 2011

Thanks to a gorgeous stream of entries, WIZ’s 2011 Spring Poetry Runoff Celebration ran even deeper into the season than did last year’s.  And indeed, this year’s Runoff has been an inspiring show of green and fertile language, above and beyond what I had hoped. In fact, I’ve been wowed, not just by the craftsmanship [...]

March Morning, New York City by David Passey

Monday, May 2nd, 2011

At last the world leans the cobbled street
between Church and City Hall
in line with the sun.
The host of sparrows in the barren aralia vines
catches fire again, flickering and dancing so quick,
like a scaffolding of glad candles.
The forsythia hedge at the Mansion gate–
yesterday a row of tattered sticks,
today a bustling brass parade.
And we, the grey coated [...]

Respite by Carla Martin-Wood

Tuesday, March 29th, 2011

Deep in the sugar-blossomed orchard
spring catches in the throat of each bloom
pink with nectar promises
heavy with buzz of bees
dreaming honey-laden fruit to come
this ancient cherry tree
beckons with shade
a dusty wanderer who
turns from roadside Jiffy Mart
leaves billboard clutter
and afternoon sales calls behind
climbs the paint-peeled fence
that separates this holy of holies
from hum and drum of market-
driven life
to [...]

Homecoming by Carla Martin-Wood

Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011

The air is a-buzz with wings
bird to butterfly
bee to dragonfly
flit, fly and flutter by
cherry trees lifting petticoats to heaven
full-blossomed defiance
caught mid-cartwheel
kicking up chaos
in can-can regalia
long-limbed show-offs
in ruffles and bloomers
late and early
daffodils and Japanese magnolia
crocus and iris and tulips cover places
old winter (that cold-handed lover)
has relinquished at last
bright spindled forsythia
lilies and redbud
double flowering peach
too much is [...]

How we are loved by Carla Martin-Wood

Friday, March 18th, 2011

1 John 4:16
What the river knows, it keeps
beneath ephemera of foam,
far below pull of eddies and currents,
beneath its bed
and into its cold dark heart,
though from the watershed
we can see
how it harbors fish and lamprey,
feeds swallow and raven,
slakes thirst of sheep and wolf,
all haphazard,
how it floods thirsty fields,
or careless withers into a parched arroyo,
how it goes [...]

Every Step I Take by Gabriel Aresti Jr.

Wednesday, March 16th, 2011

Five hours feeling happiness
I have been walking for five hours.
I got off the subway five hours ago.
I kept on walking with the city on my back
Streets becoming tracks
Tracks becoming old dry creeks
Creeks steep
Climbing to the top of one
Then making my way back
Five hours feeling happiness.
Five hours getting numb
Five hours leaving real life down there in [...]

Mountalogue by Gabriel Aresti Jr.

Tuesday, March 15th, 2011

I know this sounds stupid but but
I can’t help it
It is good for my health
My mental health
You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?
The range goes deep into the horizon
It’s been snowing for days
I’m cold comfortable cold
Nobody was coming on the track
It was only me
White to both my sides
White front
White back
Light
I keep following the track
I keep [...]

Coulee View by Jonathon Penny

Wednesday, February 23rd, 2011

Keep your craggy, up-thrust mountain peaks!
Your chasms and your cliffsides roughly made
From clattering and shattering of plates
In the devil’s galley by some shade!
I’ll have my soft-edged tinder coulee view,
Tan and green, and gently, supply formed
Like mother earth was always thought to be:
Green-crowned, or seascape prairie grass adorned,
Our traces nestled, sheltered, on her knee.
There’s hope in [...]