Winter Divinity
First snow on tree tops,
Canadian pristine . . .
Nature's own beauty
Of spirit supreme.
Cascading waters
Of crystal clear birth
Instill serene pleasure
From heaven to earth.
As the lake mirrors mountains
And deep azure sky,
We commune together,
My God and I.
Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc. Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Friday, December 12, 2014
Musings--By Brian Strand--England
Musings
We forget so easily life’s reality,
vulnerable, alone we stay transfixed
by memory, frayed. Musings of the mind,
experience, past & present
lingers long. A reality that ebbs
and flows as morning mist.
Just out of reach shadows persist,
circumstance moves on, twenty-four
hours remain a day. Our times change,
inside we stay the same, as players
not spectators in the game.
Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.
We forget so easily life’s reality,
vulnerable, alone we stay transfixed
by memory, frayed. Musings of the mind,
experience, past & present
lingers long. A reality that ebbs
and flows as morning mist.
Just out of reach shadows persist,
circumstance moves on, twenty-four
hours remain a day. Our times change,
inside we stay the same, as players
not spectators in the game.
Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.
A Walk In Winter--By Kelly Deschler--United States
A Walk In Winter
Twin, silver cathedral bells, sway and chime.
As every note peals out, clear and sublime.
No winds blow through the sky, this silent night.
The peaceful heavens, filled with a celestial light.
Arm and arm, down the icy lane we do walk.
Heart to heart, our souls they seem to talk.
A pair of happy cardinals, one red, one gold.
Go bobbing through the snow, so white, so cold.
Along the hillside, stands rows of frosted pine.
The fields, blanketed in diamonds, a vision divine.
Couples, young and old, seated in horse-drawn sleighs.
Making new memories, and reminiscing their by-gone days.
Nestled so close together, like two turtledoves.
All bundled up, with warm scarves and gloves.
Amongst white winter lands, we two do wander.
While our light hearts, are growing ever fonder.
Kelly Deschler lives in Big Falls, Wisconsin, United States. Her poem, "A Walk In Winter" was inspired by the painting, "Christmas Day" by John Ritchie.
Twin, silver cathedral bells, sway and chime.
As every note peals out, clear and sublime.
No winds blow through the sky, this silent night.
The peaceful heavens, filled with a celestial light.
Arm and arm, down the icy lane we do walk.
Heart to heart, our souls they seem to talk.
A pair of happy cardinals, one red, one gold.
Go bobbing through the snow, so white, so cold.
Along the hillside, stands rows of frosted pine.
The fields, blanketed in diamonds, a vision divine.
Couples, young and old, seated in horse-drawn sleighs.
Making new memories, and reminiscing their by-gone days.
Nestled so close together, like two turtledoves.
All bundled up, with warm scarves and gloves.
Amongst white winter lands, we two do wander.
While our light hearts, are growing ever fonder.
Kelly Deschler lives in Big Falls, Wisconsin, United States. Her poem, "A Walk In Winter" was inspired by the painting, "Christmas Day" by John Ritchie.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Thank You Lord--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada
Thank You Lord
Thank you Lord for the blessings we receive
For your guidance and ever watchful eye
Guiding us into each new day
For leading us in our lost moments
Allowing us to grow and find the right pathway
**********
Giving us courage to face each new challenge
Guiding us in the proper manner
Picking us up when we stumble
Teaching us how to become whole
Making us acceptable in the way of the Lord
**********
Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on Poetry.com and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.
Thank you Lord for the blessings we receive
For your guidance and ever watchful eye
Guiding us into each new day
For leading us in our lost moments
Allowing us to grow and find the right pathway
**********
Giving us courage to face each new challenge
Guiding us in the proper manner
Picking us up when we stumble
Teaching us how to become whole
Making us acceptable in the way of the Lord
**********
Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on Poetry.com and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Paul Callus--Malta and Olive E. Guillermo--Philippines
Chariot of Fire
(Villanelle)
By Paul Callus and Olive E. Guillermo
I stand in silence and behold the sight,
staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
The white-winged horses gallop in full flight
pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
Where are they going? There’s a shining light
leading all the way, so they will not stray.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
amidst the heaven where in pure delight
resides the Master, the sweetest lover,
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights
fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
a chariot of fire travels through the night.
(Villanelle)
By Paul Callus and Olive E. Guillermo
I stand in silence and behold the sight,
staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
A chariot of fire travels through the night.
The white-winged horses gallop in full flight
pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes
I stand in silence and behold the sight.
Where are they going? There’s a shining light
leading all the way, so they will not stray.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
amidst the heaven where in pure delight
resides the Master, the sweetest lover,
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
A chariot of fire travels through the night
armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights
fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
I stand in silence and behold the sight;
a chariot of fire travels through the night.
Sleigh Ride--By Mary A. Couch--United States
Sleigh Ride
(Rictameter)
Sleigh bells
jingle in night
as black horse trots through snow.
Leaves tracks along woodlands white road,
stops for a moment. I breathe in pine scent,
feel chilled wind wrap me in its arms,
know warm fire awaits me,
woods echo with
sleigh bells.
Mary A. Couch resides in Noblesville, Indiana, and works as an Admin Assistant for Taylored Systems, Inc. a local telecommunication company. She is the Premier Poet for the Indiana State Federation of Poetry Clubs, and she learned poetry from her mother and two grandmothers who were writers, artists and storytellers. She has been published in a variety of venues.
(Rictameter)
Sleigh bells
jingle in night
as black horse trots through snow.
Leaves tracks along woodlands white road,
stops for a moment. I breathe in pine scent,
feel chilled wind wrap me in its arms,
know warm fire awaits me,
woods echo with
sleigh bells.
Mary A. Couch resides in Noblesville, Indiana, and works as an Admin Assistant for Taylored Systems, Inc. a local telecommunication company. She is the Premier Poet for the Indiana State Federation of Poetry Clubs, and she learned poetry from her mother and two grandmothers who were writers, artists and storytellers. She has been published in a variety of venues.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
Haiku--By Ali Znaidi--Tunisia
Another night,
and still no tweet.
The moon wanes.
_______________
Three flowers
at the edge of a lake.
—A party.
_______________
Yellow dust.
Waves of pollen
in the air.
_______________
A nightingale
on a tree’s bough.
I deleted all my mobile ring tones.
_______________
Glittering dates.
No mosquitoes
on my skin.
_______________
Ali Znaidi (b. 1977) lives in Redeyef, Tunisia, where he teaches English. His work has appeared in various magazines and journals worldwide. He authored four poetry chapbooks including Experimental Ruminations (Fowlpox Press, 2012), Moon’s Cloth Embroidered with Poems (Origami Poems Project, 2012), Bye, Donna Summer! (Fowlpox Press, 2014), and Taste of the Edge (Kind of A Hurricane Press, 2014). Links to his published and forthcoming works can be found at aliznaidi.blogspot.com.
and still no tweet.
The moon wanes.
_______________
Three flowers
at the edge of a lake.
—A party.
_______________
Yellow dust.
Waves of pollen
in the air.
_______________
A nightingale
on a tree’s bough.
I deleted all my mobile ring tones.
_______________
Glittering dates.
No mosquitoes
on my skin.
_______________
Ali Znaidi (b. 1977) lives in Redeyef, Tunisia, where he teaches English. His work has appeared in various magazines and journals worldwide. He authored four poetry chapbooks including Experimental Ruminations (Fowlpox Press, 2012), Moon’s Cloth Embroidered with Poems (Origami Poems Project, 2012), Bye, Donna Summer! (Fowlpox Press, 2014), and Taste of the Edge (Kind of A Hurricane Press, 2014). Links to his published and forthcoming works can be found at aliznaidi.blogspot.com.
flashback--By Peggy Dugan French--United States
flashback
dairy cows sauntering through fields
grain-filled silos shooting skyward
fields of corn rolling in the breeze
cats sipping milk in the weathered barn . . .
me
standing on the gravel road
breathing in this unspoiled life
bundling it up for later
past and present colliding
Previously published in Shemom
Peggy Dugan French is a California girl with Minnesota roots. She has enjoyed being the editor of Shemom since 1997. She has worn many hats over the years, but being a Mom has been one of her greatest adventures; she’s had the pleasure of sharing that journey with her best friend.
dairy cows sauntering through fields
grain-filled silos shooting skyward
fields of corn rolling in the breeze
cats sipping milk in the weathered barn . . .
me
standing on the gravel road
breathing in this unspoiled life
bundling it up for later
past and present colliding
Previously published in Shemom
Peggy Dugan French is a California girl with Minnesota roots. She has enjoyed being the editor of Shemom since 1997. She has worn many hats over the years, but being a Mom has been one of her greatest adventures; she’s had the pleasure of sharing that journey with her best friend.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Racialized Chinese Canadians--By Chen-ou Liu--Canada
Racialized Chinese Canadians
(a haiku sequence written in response to The Accidental Asian by Eric Liu, Bill Clinton's deputy domestic policy adviser and speech writer)
chinks go home!
all she sees in the mirror
are slanted eyes
chinks go home!
the spit on my face
cold as snow
chinks go home!
again and again
he scrubs his hand
Chen-ou Liu is the author of four books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. To read more of his poems, please go to Poetry in the Moment, http://chenouliu.blogspot.com/
(a haiku sequence written in response to The Accidental Asian by Eric Liu, Bill Clinton's deputy domestic policy adviser and speech writer)
chinks go home!
all she sees in the mirror
are slanted eyes
chinks go home!
the spit on my face
cold as snow
chinks go home!
again and again
he scrubs his hand
Chen-ou Liu is the author of four books, including Following the Moon to the Maple Land (First Prize Winner of the 2011 Haiku Pix Chapbook Contest). His tanka and haiku have been honored with many awards. To read more of his poems, please go to Poetry in the Moment, http://chenouliu.blogspot.com/
In the Bottomlands--By John Swain--United States
In the Bottomlands
Sandhill cranes arise from the cornfield
in the whipping dawn,
grey against grey as the sky becomes their wings.
Recent floods have drowned the forests
of peeling river birch.
I entered in my tall green wading boots.
Water traveling through wind in holiness
with the safety of no people like this ancient day
brightens into eternity.
In the air like dog teeth, I am devoured,
torn to eat at my own limbs
for your communion in this wilderness.
I took the moon to soothe the briars
on the mule of my speaking tongue
in exhaustion and drift continuing a red prayer.
John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA. Red Paint Hill published his first collection, Ring the Sycamore Sky.
Sandhill cranes arise from the cornfield
in the whipping dawn,
grey against grey as the sky becomes their wings.
Recent floods have drowned the forests
of peeling river birch.
I entered in my tall green wading boots.
Water traveling through wind in holiness
with the safety of no people like this ancient day
brightens into eternity.
In the air like dog teeth, I am devoured,
torn to eat at my own limbs
for your communion in this wilderness.
I took the moon to soothe the briars
on the mule of my speaking tongue
in exhaustion and drift continuing a red prayer.
John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA. Red Paint Hill published his first collection, Ring the Sycamore Sky.
Christmas Eve--By Eleanor Michael--United States
Christmas Eve
Ready for the party,
Daddy in a Santa suit,
Momma in a fur-trimmed Mini.
They know the kids
are listening to every word.
“Have been good?” he asks.
He names them one by one,
“Holly, Angel, Carol, Noel.”
Although it’s not always true,
she says, “Yes, yes, yes, and yes.”
“Then there is something
in my backpack for every one.”
He leans toward Mrs. Santa,
“What should I bring
their mother for Christmas?”
“Sorry, Santa,” she says,
“four small socks hanging
on the mantel is enough.”
Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.
Ready for the party,
Daddy in a Santa suit,
Momma in a fur-trimmed Mini.
They know the kids
are listening to every word.
“Have been good?” he asks.
He names them one by one,
“Holly, Angel, Carol, Noel.”
Although it’s not always true,
she says, “Yes, yes, yes, and yes.”
“Then there is something
in my backpack for every one.”
He leans toward Mrs. Santa,
“What should I bring
their mother for Christmas?”
“Sorry, Santa,” she says,
“four small socks hanging
on the mantel is enough.”
Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.
Monday, December 8, 2014
November Dreams--By Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo--Philippines
November Dreams
Acrobatic leaves
fatigued, drop to earth below.
Calmly, they rest jam-pack-like.
Trees beheaded bold
while meteor-like streaks fall.
They hug the trunks with cold-fire.
Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo, 28 year-old from The Philippines, is a nurse by profession. Poetry writing is her new found hobby, since 2012. She is a member of Poetry Soup where she submits most of her poems. Her writing inspiration is driven by God, experiences and nature. She dreams of publishing a book someday.
Acrobatic leaves
fatigued, drop to earth below.
Calmly, they rest jam-pack-like.
Trees beheaded bold
while meteor-like streaks fall.
They hug the trunks with cold-fire.
Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo, 28 year-old from The Philippines, is a nurse by profession. Poetry writing is her new found hobby, since 2012. She is a member of Poetry Soup where she submits most of her poems. Her writing inspiration is driven by God, experiences and nature. She dreams of publishing a book someday.
When the Muse Dictates--By Gerald Heyder--United States
When the Muse Dictates
Stop the presses and hold the phones,
inspiration is thrilling my bones!
Am I facetious or just vain,
sometimes authors go insane.
Are you laughing or raising your brow?
It’s hard to know from here anyhow.
All you writers know what I mean
when ideas come like a steam rolling machine;
I simply say to all you mates,
“Raise the shades when the muse dictates!”
Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Stop the presses and hold the phones,
inspiration is thrilling my bones!
Am I facetious or just vain,
sometimes authors go insane.
Are you laughing or raising your brow?
It’s hard to know from here anyhow.
All you writers know what I mean
when ideas come like a steam rolling machine;
I simply say to all you mates,
“Raise the shades when the muse dictates!”
Gerald Heyder is a published poet from Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Sunday, December 7, 2014
Tanka--By Shivapriya Ganapathy--India
footprints
smudged in last night's rain...
memories
of us together now
stamped on my heart
_______________
green tea
still tasting bitter
with two sugars...
his plans for our life ahead
fall on deaf ears
_______________
Shivapriya Ganapathy is from Kanchipuram, India. She graduated with a Masters degree in English Language and Literature from Madras Christian College, Chennai, and is now a research scholar at University of Madras. Apart from being a researcher, she is an aspiring poet, constantly learning and experimenting with new forms like micropoetry and erasure. Some of her poems have been published in Whispers, Verse Wrights, Word Couch, Wordweavers, Spilt Ink Poetry and Sonic Boom. She also maintains a personal poetry blog (www.wordsfromdarkness.blogspot.in) and finds writing therapeutic.
smudged in last night's rain...
memories
of us together now
stamped on my heart
_______________
green tea
still tasting bitter
with two sugars...
his plans for our life ahead
fall on deaf ears
_______________
Shivapriya Ganapathy is from Kanchipuram, India. She graduated with a Masters degree in English Language and Literature from Madras Christian College, Chennai, and is now a research scholar at University of Madras. Apart from being a researcher, she is an aspiring poet, constantly learning and experimenting with new forms like micropoetry and erasure. Some of her poems have been published in Whispers, Verse Wrights, Word Couch, Wordweavers, Spilt Ink Poetry and Sonic Boom. She also maintains a personal poetry blog (www.wordsfromdarkness.blogspot.in) and finds writing therapeutic.
The Things That Bug Me About You!--By Robert A. Dufresne--United States
The Things That Bug Me About You!
My goodness, how rude can one get?
I haven’t even finished speaking yet.
Your uncaring interruption,
has ruined my thought construction.
Now I have to put my thoughts on the shelf.
Couldn’t you see I was talking to myself ?!
And when I ask you to look for my keys,
don’t make me beg on my knees.
I hate it when you laugh to beat the band,
just because you see them in my hand!
And last week when I asked you to find my phone,
Your unkind remark cut me to the bone.
You said, “You are losing your mind I fear.
What’s that thing on your ear?”
It just isn’t nice, no matter how true it rings,
accusing me of always losing things!
I just hate that quirk about you!!
Hey...you seen my other shoe?
Robert A. Dufresne was born in Vermont and raised on a dairy farm. After four years in the Navy and trying his hand at a couple of trades, he settled in as a self employed remodeling carpenter for 31 years. He and his wife moved to Florida in 1998, where he continued his career. He began writing poetry in 2009 .
My goodness, how rude can one get?
I haven’t even finished speaking yet.
Your uncaring interruption,
has ruined my thought construction.
Now I have to put my thoughts on the shelf.
Couldn’t you see I was talking to myself ?!
And when I ask you to look for my keys,
don’t make me beg on my knees.
I hate it when you laugh to beat the band,
just because you see them in my hand!
And last week when I asked you to find my phone,
Your unkind remark cut me to the bone.
You said, “You are losing your mind I fear.
What’s that thing on your ear?”
It just isn’t nice, no matter how true it rings,
accusing me of always losing things!
I just hate that quirk about you!!
Hey...you seen my other shoe?
Robert A. Dufresne was born in Vermont and raised on a dairy farm. After four years in the Navy and trying his hand at a couple of trades, he settled in as a self employed remodeling carpenter for 31 years. He and his wife moved to Florida in 1998, where he continued his career. He began writing poetry in 2009 .
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Inner Calm--By George L. Ellison--England
Inner Calm
When I first felt this woodlands balm
It filled my soul with inner calm
My mind let all my thoughts run free
To compose inspired poetry
To be at one with mother earth
To hear the stream, see spring’s rebirth
See blossoms bud on branch and stem
In my hideaway from mayhem
To think of naught but verse and rhyme
Enter my world time after time
To smell the scented woodland air
Be contented without a care
Against an oak tree trunk I lean
Feel the centre of my being
As an inner calm takes its hold
My thoughts touch new ideas so bold
My pen rests on the open page
As I look at my words so sage
I taste a berry and peruse
Newly written text I did choose
George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and short stories. He as published two books called Poetic Reminiscences and Weaving Words. George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance. He is currently working on his new project as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!
When I first felt this woodlands balm
It filled my soul with inner calm
My mind let all my thoughts run free
To compose inspired poetry
To be at one with mother earth
To hear the stream, see spring’s rebirth
See blossoms bud on branch and stem
In my hideaway from mayhem
To think of naught but verse and rhyme
Enter my world time after time
To smell the scented woodland air
Be contented without a care
Against an oak tree trunk I lean
Feel the centre of my being
As an inner calm takes its hold
My thoughts touch new ideas so bold
My pen rests on the open page
As I look at my words so sage
I taste a berry and peruse
Newly written text I did choose
George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and short stories. He as published two books called Poetic Reminiscences and Weaving Words. George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance. He is currently working on his new project as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Peggy Dugan French and ayaz daryl nielsen--United States
whom wonders embrace
By Peggy Dugan French and ayaz daryl nielsen
badger-bearded, sparrow-winged trail guides
wind quietly whispering, taking in the view
cherry blossoms and birdsong across a meadow
a lone hawk gliding overhead
melodies from ancient trumpets
sprinkling over the misty valley
five small raccoon behind their mother
scurrying ahead of me on the trail
an older us whom wonders embrace
fresh scent of pine stirring memories
retelling the magnificence
of all that has come before
By Peggy Dugan French and ayaz daryl nielsen
badger-bearded, sparrow-winged trail guides
wind quietly whispering, taking in the view
cherry blossoms and birdsong across a meadow
a lone hawk gliding overhead
melodies from ancient trumpets
sprinkling over the misty valley
five small raccoon behind their mother
scurrying ahead of me on the trail
an older us whom wonders embrace
fresh scent of pine stirring memories
retelling the magnificence
of all that has come before
A Veteran’s Christmas Wish--By Robert A. Hall--United States
A Veteran’s Christmas Wish
Each year when Christmas comes around again,
I pause on Christmas Eve to take a dram
Of whisky, and I think of absent friends,
And Christmas in a place called Vietnam.
I think of boys who never had the chance
To see their kids on Christmas Eve at play,
Their lives were spent that freedom might advance,
From Valley Forge right up through yesterday.
They fell at Belleau Wood and Normandy,
At Gettysburg, at Iwo and at Hue,
They gave their lives to keep our people free,
And never saw another Christmas Day.
So take a moment from your festive joys,
To think of soldiers who were young and true,
And say a prayer on Christmas Eve for boys
Who gave up all their Christmases for you.
___________________
Published in Old Jarhead Poems, Leatherneck and Poetic Voices. Note that “Hue” is pronounced “way,” and Scotch Whisky is spelled without the “e”!
___________________
Robert A. Hall, a Marine Vietnam Veteran, served 5 terms in the Massachusetts State Senate. He was an Association Executive from 1982 to 2013, retiring due to pulmonary fibrosis for a lung transplant 12/23/13. His 11 books, including two of poetry, Old Jarhead Poems and Share the Cup are here: http://tinyurl.com/n79esoh. Royalties go to charity. He does the Old Jarhead blog.
Each year when Christmas comes around again,
I pause on Christmas Eve to take a dram
Of whisky, and I think of absent friends,
And Christmas in a place called Vietnam.
I think of boys who never had the chance
To see their kids on Christmas Eve at play,
Their lives were spent that freedom might advance,
From Valley Forge right up through yesterday.
They fell at Belleau Wood and Normandy,
At Gettysburg, at Iwo and at Hue,
They gave their lives to keep our people free,
And never saw another Christmas Day.
So take a moment from your festive joys,
To think of soldiers who were young and true,
And say a prayer on Christmas Eve for boys
Who gave up all their Christmases for you.
___________________
Published in Old Jarhead Poems, Leatherneck and Poetic Voices. Note that “Hue” is pronounced “way,” and Scotch Whisky is spelled without the “e”!
___________________
Robert A. Hall, a Marine Vietnam Veteran, served 5 terms in the Massachusetts State Senate. He was an Association Executive from 1982 to 2013, retiring due to pulmonary fibrosis for a lung transplant 12/23/13. His 11 books, including two of poetry, Old Jarhead Poems and Share the Cup are here: http://tinyurl.com/n79esoh. Royalties go to charity. He does the Old Jarhead blog.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Moonshadow--By Maureen Sudlow--New Zealand
Moonshadow
(tanka prose)
No moon tonight, just a few pale stars between the dark shadows of the trees. A Morepork calls monotonously across the paddocks, and there’s a thump on the veranda as the neighbour’s cat does his rounds. In the lounge, the dog snores on, oblivious. I can’t sleep, and there are words scrambling through my brain, urging me to somehow write them down. I take a torch through to my study, tripping over the dog’s ball in the hallway as I go. Before I get back to bed a rooster is crowing from down in the valley.
harsh cry
of a Morepork
soft feathers
floating
between the trees
(The Morepork is the New Zealand native owl. Legend has it that it comes to warn of a death in the family.)
Maureen Sudlow is a member of the New Zealand Poetry Society, and lives in the Kaipara, in the North of New Zealand. She loves poetry, photography and writing for children. She has published a children’s picture book Fearless Fred and the Dragon and has written for various on-line journals and magazines.
(tanka prose)
No moon tonight, just a few pale stars between the dark shadows of the trees. A Morepork calls monotonously across the paddocks, and there’s a thump on the veranda as the neighbour’s cat does his rounds. In the lounge, the dog snores on, oblivious. I can’t sleep, and there are words scrambling through my brain, urging me to somehow write them down. I take a torch through to my study, tripping over the dog’s ball in the hallway as I go. Before I get back to bed a rooster is crowing from down in the valley.
harsh cry
of a Morepork
soft feathers
floating
between the trees
(The Morepork is the New Zealand native owl. Legend has it that it comes to warn of a death in the family.)
Maureen Sudlow is a member of the New Zealand Poetry Society, and lives in the Kaipara, in the North of New Zealand. She loves poetry, photography and writing for children. She has published a children’s picture book Fearless Fred and the Dragon and has written for various on-line journals and magazines.
Celebrate--By Gerald A. McBreen--United States
Celebrate
Because I love the sound of children
laughing, Christmas is my favorite time.
Because children love Christmas so much
they hold on to it as long as they can.
The countdown starts before the twelve days.
Each checked off day, builds suspense.
November is a slow poke, I look for ways
to wind it up, spin through it like a top.
Just like little hearts, I wait for Christmas too.
It gives me a chance to be a kid again.
Recall Christmases past
box up new memories
shelter them in my heart
to share with you next year
Gerald A. McBreen found poetry after he retired from the US Postal Service. He discovered he had a flair for romance. He has been publishing for ten years with True Romance and their related magazines. He is the coordinator for Striped Water Poets. They sponsor an “open mic” every first Wednesday of the month. They also post 'Poems on Posters' around the area. In 2009 Pacific, Washington celebrated its 100th anniversary, and he was appointed Poet Laureate. (2009 - 2013)
Because I love the sound of children
laughing, Christmas is my favorite time.
Because children love Christmas so much
they hold on to it as long as they can.
The countdown starts before the twelve days.
Each checked off day, builds suspense.
November is a slow poke, I look for ways
to wind it up, spin through it like a top.
Just like little hearts, I wait for Christmas too.
It gives me a chance to be a kid again.
Recall Christmases past
box up new memories
shelter them in my heart
to share with you next year
Gerald A. McBreen found poetry after he retired from the US Postal Service. He discovered he had a flair for romance. He has been publishing for ten years with True Romance and their related magazines. He is the coordinator for Striped Water Poets. They sponsor an “open mic” every first Wednesday of the month. They also post 'Poems on Posters' around the area. In 2009 Pacific, Washington celebrated its 100th anniversary, and he was appointed Poet Laureate. (2009 - 2013)
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Tanka--By Robert Henry Poulin--United States
into autumn fields
gathering dried withered weeds
all the vase can hold
I am with tears filling heart--
cancer taking you away!
on a stormy day
out far out to sea let go
from this little box
ashes on the wind let fly
all, all, all of you!
Love, before you went
and you let go to go away
my love whispered
for you to know
you my love were bliss!
Robert Henry Poulin has been writing the small genre: haiku/senryu/tanka/Korean Sijo for 15 years winning Modern Haiku Best of Issue Senryu, awards in Tanka and Sijo and published two books of haiku: The Last Leaf Decides and Haiku Art Book. He is Vice President of Colt Press, Helping New Authors Stand Tall. He has been published, his more than two thousand poems, in USA and Internationally, winning awards in Japan and world wide. Poet Poulin resides in South Florida, USA.
gathering dried withered weeds
all the vase can hold
I am with tears filling heart--
cancer taking you away!
on a stormy day
out far out to sea let go
from this little box
ashes on the wind let fly
all, all, all of you!
Love, before you went
and you let go to go away
my love whispered
for you to know
you my love were bliss!
Robert Henry Poulin has been writing the small genre: haiku/senryu/tanka/Korean Sijo for 15 years winning Modern Haiku Best of Issue Senryu, awards in Tanka and Sijo and published two books of haiku: The Last Leaf Decides and Haiku Art Book. He is Vice President of Colt Press, Helping New Authors Stand Tall. He has been published, his more than two thousand poems, in USA and Internationally, winning awards in Japan and world wide. Poet Poulin resides in South Florida, USA.
Tuesday Afternoon in November--By Jan Oskar Hansen--Portugal
Tuesday Afternoon in November
Well this is, the ending of another day I’m looking out
of the window the road is clean and tidy after rain.
The sun is coming out of hiding and strews golden dust
on the window ledge, it is a sort of thank you since I’m
taking care of a sunray I found huddled behind the gas
bottle in the back yard. It was too cold for it to get back
so I put it under my bed – I need only one blanket now-
so there are times being kind can be helpful.
The sunray, not talkative, hides behind the china I bought
for my daughter’s wedding only I never had a child; it
was a dream I mistook for the real thing; but never mind
the cleaning lady likes to drink tea and pretend she is
a grand dame. It is darker outside than inside so I light the fire,
drink a cup of coffee, at this end of a beautiful day
Jan Oskar Hansen is a published poet from Portugal.
Well this is, the ending of another day I’m looking out
of the window the road is clean and tidy after rain.
The sun is coming out of hiding and strews golden dust
on the window ledge, it is a sort of thank you since I’m
taking care of a sunray I found huddled behind the gas
bottle in the back yard. It was too cold for it to get back
so I put it under my bed – I need only one blanket now-
so there are times being kind can be helpful.
The sunray, not talkative, hides behind the china I bought
for my daughter’s wedding only I never had a child; it
was a dream I mistook for the real thing; but never mind
the cleaning lady likes to drink tea and pretend she is
a grand dame. It is darker outside than inside so I light the fire,
drink a cup of coffee, at this end of a beautiful day
Jan Oskar Hansen is a published poet from Portugal.
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Sands of Time--By James Rasmusson--United States
Sands of Time
The wind has swept the sands of time
to form its stately dunes,
breathing forth on rippled earth
to sing celestial tunes.
The flea has walked the sands of time
and left his humble trace,
tiny flecks of dust have shifted
from their natal place.
James began writing in the 1960’s and immediately showed a love for seasonal, humorous, and philosophical poetry. In the late 70’s, he became an ardent photographer and soon found that the two artistic mediums cross pollinated each other. West Michigan is an art Mecca with over 100 galleries and art camps with Jim residing in the lovely coastal town of Holland, Michigan. A practitioner of Surat Shabd Yoga since 1972, his art is an expression of his lifetime love affair with nature and his quest for truth. James is the winner of many awards in both photography and poetry including the 2005 Shadow Poetry 5th biannual chapbook competition. The artist says he likes to underscore the abstract and tease the mind and be ever alert for juxtapositions that express irony, absurdity, and poignancy, desiring for people to feel both tension and resolution in his compositions.
The wind has swept the sands of time
to form its stately dunes,
breathing forth on rippled earth
to sing celestial tunes.
The flea has walked the sands of time
and left his humble trace,
tiny flecks of dust have shifted
from their natal place.
James began writing in the 1960’s and immediately showed a love for seasonal, humorous, and philosophical poetry. In the late 70’s, he became an ardent photographer and soon found that the two artistic mediums cross pollinated each other. West Michigan is an art Mecca with over 100 galleries and art camps with Jim residing in the lovely coastal town of Holland, Michigan. A practitioner of Surat Shabd Yoga since 1972, his art is an expression of his lifetime love affair with nature and his quest for truth. James is the winner of many awards in both photography and poetry including the 2005 Shadow Poetry 5th biannual chapbook competition. The artist says he likes to underscore the abstract and tease the mind and be ever alert for juxtapositions that express irony, absurdity, and poignancy, desiring for people to feel both tension and resolution in his compositions.
Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Michael Todd and Anna Donovan--United States
Love Always
By Michael Todd and Anna Donovan
Around you I'm unsettled,
alert and dulled
on this double edge
of passion and restraint.
Memories of the future,
Destined to lie unclaimed.
Those who will know no glory,
Merely be forgotten names.
I see saw on the axis of you,
your eyes the epi center
of all that was and is to be.
What might have been, was not.
Destiny and fate unaware.
Misdirected glance, words unsaid,
No perfect union to declare.
That I would've never laid eyes on you,
that I would've known and shared
every moment since childhood.
Still, press on in purpose,
In due time, final bell to sound.
No comfort in the shadows.
Exact freedom, lest be bound.
That I could proclaim this love
on resolute banners
to the brisk beat of galloping horses,
that I could hide this love
to the rhythm of pall bearers carrying
the remains of royalty.
For all of my misgivings,
This shallow world to see.
Know in my heart, what could happen,
She may well someday find me.
Because all the moments have conspired
with each other to lead me through the mists
into the sudden clearing of your arms.
By Michael Todd and Anna Donovan
Around you I'm unsettled,
alert and dulled
on this double edge
of passion and restraint.
Memories of the future,
Destined to lie unclaimed.
Those who will know no glory,
Merely be forgotten names.
I see saw on the axis of you,
your eyes the epi center
of all that was and is to be.
What might have been, was not.
Destiny and fate unaware.
Misdirected glance, words unsaid,
No perfect union to declare.
That I would've never laid eyes on you,
that I would've known and shared
every moment since childhood.
Still, press on in purpose,
In due time, final bell to sound.
No comfort in the shadows.
Exact freedom, lest be bound.
That I could proclaim this love
on resolute banners
to the brisk beat of galloping horses,
that I could hide this love
to the rhythm of pall bearers carrying
the remains of royalty.
For all of my misgivings,
This shallow world to see.
Know in my heart, what could happen,
She may well someday find me.
Because all the moments have conspired
with each other to lead me through the mists
into the sudden clearing of your arms.
Haibun: Time Passages--By Angelee Deodhar--India
Haibun: Time Passages
While packing books to send to friends in different countries, today I am back in that time when he would help seal them with cello tape, label them and then make a list of all the people they were being sent to. He didn’t complain about this tedious task even when he had to sit with one leg straight out, stiff from surgery, which left him unable to bend his knee…he enjoyed the geography of where the books were going…and loved to collect the stamps which came with gift books from different parts of the world.
Soon it will be two years since he passed away and now these brown paper packets which I pack clumsily with stiff fingers, carry away more than books…
Jacaranda-
the jazz of an
April sky
Contemporary Haibun Online July 2013, vol. 9, no 2
Angelee Deodhar, an eye surgeon by profession is a haiku poet, translator, and artist. She lives and works in Chandigarh, India. Her haiku/haibun/haiga have been published internationally in various books and journals, and her work can be viewed on many websites. To promote haiku in India, she has translated six books of haiku from English to Hindi, which she distributed for free. These bilingual books include: If Someone Asks: Masaoka Shiki's Life and Haiku (2005),Classic Haiku: A Master's Selection, edited by Miura Yuzuru (2006), Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: 100 Poems by 100 Poets (2007), Children’s Haiku from Around the World–A Haiku Primer (2007), Indian Haiku (2008), and The Distant Mountain: The Life and Haiku of Kobayashi Issa (2009).
While packing books to send to friends in different countries, today I am back in that time when he would help seal them with cello tape, label them and then make a list of all the people they were being sent to. He didn’t complain about this tedious task even when he had to sit with one leg straight out, stiff from surgery, which left him unable to bend his knee…he enjoyed the geography of where the books were going…and loved to collect the stamps which came with gift books from different parts of the world.
Soon it will be two years since he passed away and now these brown paper packets which I pack clumsily with stiff fingers, carry away more than books…
Jacaranda-
the jazz of an
April sky
Contemporary Haibun Online July 2013, vol. 9, no 2
Angelee Deodhar, an eye surgeon by profession is a haiku poet, translator, and artist. She lives and works in Chandigarh, India. Her haiku/haibun/haiga have been published internationally in various books and journals, and her work can be viewed on many websites. To promote haiku in India, she has translated six books of haiku from English to Hindi, which she distributed for free. These bilingual books include: If Someone Asks: Masaoka Shiki's Life and Haiku (2005),Classic Haiku: A Master's Selection, edited by Miura Yuzuru (2006), Ogura Hyakunin Isshu: 100 Poems by 100 Poets (2007), Children’s Haiku from Around the World–A Haiku Primer (2007), Indian Haiku (2008), and The Distant Mountain: The Life and Haiku of Kobayashi Issa (2009).
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Within His Light--By Erich J. Goller--United States
Within His Light
( Sedoka Suite)
With a faith filled heart
build a ladder to the stars
strive to rise above each tide
stars that shimmer bright
whatever the skies above
there are floods we must endure
live each precious hour
yesterday has come and gone
treasured days passing away
give it greater calm
never fear the coming days
find strength for every task
search within your heart
with comfort and compassion
place or moment doesn’t matter
walk within His light
and scale all the mountains high
where love and contentment reign
Erich J. Goller was born in Vienna, Austria. A close world war two survivor, in 1955, he immigrated to California, where he made his living as a mechanic and as an actor. He been married for 56 years, has one daughter and one son. He is a published author of seven books. He now resides In Nashville, Tennessee, still loves to write, also enjoys doing art work. His web site, www.poetvienna.com
( Sedoka Suite)
With a faith filled heart
build a ladder to the stars
strive to rise above each tide
stars that shimmer bright
whatever the skies above
there are floods we must endure
live each precious hour
yesterday has come and gone
treasured days passing away
give it greater calm
never fear the coming days
find strength for every task
search within your heart
with comfort and compassion
place or moment doesn’t matter
walk within His light
and scale all the mountains high
where love and contentment reign
Erich J. Goller was born in Vienna, Austria. A close world war two survivor, in 1955, he immigrated to California, where he made his living as a mechanic and as an actor. He been married for 56 years, has one daughter and one son. He is a published author of seven books. He now resides In Nashville, Tennessee, still loves to write, also enjoys doing art work. His web site, www.poetvienna.com
Childhood Memories--By Beth Winchcombe--England
Childhood Memories
The aroma of hops
wafting forth, as I
pass the High Street Brewery!
The unique white suspension bridge
with slatted wooden walkway,
where the river flows beneath -
puts fear in my childlike heart!
Grandparents live nearby,
in their quaint cottage
reflect an image of quaint shops
full of candy in jars.
Candy, my mouth salivates,
Granny quells my longing for candy-
she buys me some to take home -
she loves me, I love her!
The nearby park, a square corner
cordoned off with swings.
A playground full of happy delight
for any child or parent...
...my birthplace;
Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils. She lives in Derbyshire, England.
The aroma of hops
wafting forth, as I
pass the High Street Brewery!
The unique white suspension bridge
with slatted wooden walkway,
where the river flows beneath -
puts fear in my childlike heart!
Grandparents live nearby,
in their quaint cottage
reflect an image of quaint shops
full of candy in jars.
Candy, my mouth salivates,
Granny quells my longing for candy-
she buys me some to take home -
she loves me, I love her!
The nearby park, a square corner
cordoned off with swings.
A playground full of happy delight
for any child or parent...
...my birthplace;
Beth Winchcombe is now a retired housewife and enjoys writing poetry, also painting in oils. She lives in Derbyshire, England.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Sunrise-Sunset--By Joyce I. Johnson--United States
Sunrise-Sunset
The sunset glows in the wide Western sky,
placed there by the Master from on high.
Reds and golds of various shades
are splashed in mounds of beauty
on his huge blue canvass.
I watch as sun drops
over the edge
until it
sinks in
sea.
Next
morning
it will rise
from behind peaks
into Eastern sky.
Once again reds and golds
are brilliantly painted on
the clear sky with abandonment
No mortal painter has access to
the magnificent colors of the Lord.
Joyce I. Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce celebrated her 96th birthday in July of 2014.
The sunset glows in the wide Western sky,
placed there by the Master from on high.
Reds and golds of various shades
are splashed in mounds of beauty
on his huge blue canvass.
I watch as sun drops
over the edge
until it
sinks in
sea.
Next
morning
it will rise
from behind peaks
into Eastern sky.
Once again reds and golds
are brilliantly painted on
the clear sky with abandonment
No mortal painter has access to
the magnificent colors of the Lord.
Joyce I. Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce celebrated her 96th birthday in July of 2014.
Haiku--By Ramesh Anand--India
distant hill
a river carrying
the spring
_______________
calm mist
the cow bells
marching
_______________
peak hour . . .
a flock of sparrows pass
the evening moon
_______________
autumn sky
patches of twilight
in the falling leaf
_______________
lake tide
a duckling returns
to the moonlight
_______________
Ramesh Anand is a engineer from Bangalore, India. He works for Philips healthcare as a manufacturing test strategist. His haiku, tanka and haiga have appeared in 15 countries and translated to 8 foreign languages. He released his first book of haiku poetry in 2012 called Newborn Smiles, published by Cyberwit. Akita Sakigake Shimpo President Award, Honorable mention in International Matsuo BashÅ Award, Dr. Sandeep Chauhan Commendable Prize by RLP Award 2013 are his latest awards. He is a member of IN haiku group and blogs at http://ramesh-inflame.blogspot.com/
a river carrying
the spring
_______________
calm mist
the cow bells
marching
_______________
peak hour . . .
a flock of sparrows pass
the evening moon
_______________
autumn sky
patches of twilight
in the falling leaf
_______________
lake tide
a duckling returns
to the moonlight
_______________
Ramesh Anand is a engineer from Bangalore, India. He works for Philips healthcare as a manufacturing test strategist. His haiku, tanka and haiga have appeared in 15 countries and translated to 8 foreign languages. He released his first book of haiku poetry in 2012 called Newborn Smiles, published by Cyberwit. Akita Sakigake Shimpo President Award, Honorable mention in International Matsuo BashÅ Award, Dr. Sandeep Chauhan Commendable Prize by RLP Award 2013 are his latest awards. He is a member of IN haiku group and blogs at http://ramesh-inflame.blogspot.com/
DECEMBER ANNOUNCEMENTS/PUBLICATION OPPORTUNITIES
NEW CONTRIBUTORS IN NOVEMBER
Douglas L. Ace--United States
Suchoon Mo--United States
Sara R.Vogler--United States
Anne Curran--New Zealand
Barbara Tate--United States
Doris Culverhouse--United States
Marianne Szlyk--United States
Elizabeth Kral--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
Note--Ads due for January column by December 25
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Stacy Savage released a new chapbook anthology called Mother Nature’s Trail. The proceeds benefit Wolf Creek Habitat. More information on the book is available at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause.
Tom Davis and Old Mountain Press offers wide variety of eBooks at http://www.oldmp.com/e-book I Wonder Why a Poetry and Prose Anthology Free at Kindle Store December 20. url http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LT94MSC
Peter Dome released his first book of poetry called Love, Life and Inspiration, a collection of poems written from the heart. It is suitable for everyone with a wide range of topics including, nature, wisdom and spirituality. Peter hopes his book will bring a lot of
pleasure to others. It is available at Lulu.com.
Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book Antipodes coming up for release in early December. More information will be available on her website www.kiwis-soar.com
Maralee Gerke has published a new book of poetry called A New Lexicon. If you are interested please ask for more information at mgerke@crestviewcable.com
Sheri Stanley has opened a new web site and invites you to visit at: www.poetryandbeyond.net Please leave comments and visit often.
Shloka Shankar has a poetry page on Facebook called 'Shloka Shankar: a rasika's musings'. To read more of her poems, please visit: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shloka-Shankar-a-rasikas-musings/745965042120215?ref_type=bookmark
Lisa DeVinney has a website for her devotional poetry called Lifting My Eyes, at liftingmyeyes.com
Karen O’Leary released Whispers, her first book of poetry in 2011, published by APF Publisher. It has been getting good reviews and is available at online at www.lulu.com (Search Whispers under Karen O'Leary) or contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Please consider supporting The Jokester and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, po box 3787, boulder, co, 80307, USA, 11 lines and less, include SASE. Can be contacted at darylayaz@me.com, blog site is bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.
Tom Davis, publisher of Old Mountain Press, invites all to review his eBook site (Kindle and NOOK) where numerous Old Mountain Press Anthologies of poetry and prose are listed see: Self-publish an electronic book e-book with Old Mountain Press
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
David Fox is seeking family-friendly poems for his magazine, The Poet's Art. Rates for the publication are $5 an issue or $20 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash. Foreign contributors should pay $10 by international money order or American cash only. Send submissions and money for subscriptions to David Fox,171 Silverleaf Lane, Islandia, NY 11749 USA.
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
Ads are placed by the underlined names. Whispers has not verified the accuracy of all the information.
Douglas L. Ace--United States
Suchoon Mo--United States
Sara R.Vogler--United States
Anne Curran--New Zealand
Barbara Tate--United States
Doris Culverhouse--United States
Marianne Szlyk--United States
Elizabeth Kral--United States
Please welcome them to our community. We now have representatives from the following countries--Australia, Botswana, Canada, Canary Islands, England, France, Germany, India, Ireland, Israel, Malawi, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nigeria, Philippines, Portugal, Romania, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Tunisia, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States and Wales. I look forward to expanding this list in the future. Thank you to everyone that has supported Whispers in any way. --Sincerely, Karen
We have a world wide audience. If you are currently reading Whispers, please consider submitting a poem for consideration. You may contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net for guidelines. Thank you.
Note--Ads due for January column by December 25
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Stacy Savage released a new chapbook anthology called Mother Nature’s Trail. The proceeds benefit Wolf Creek Habitat. More information on the book is available at https://www.facebook.com/poetrycontestsforacause.
Tom Davis and Old Mountain Press offers wide variety of eBooks at http://www.oldmp.com/e-book I Wonder Why a Poetry and Prose Anthology Free at Kindle Store December 20. url http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LT94MSC
Peter Dome released his first book of poetry called Love, Life and Inspiration, a collection of poems written from the heart. It is suitable for everyone with a wide range of topics including, nature, wisdom and spirituality. Peter hopes his book will bring a lot of
pleasure to others. It is available at Lulu.com.
Maureen Sudlow has a poetry book Antipodes coming up for release in early December. More information will be available on her website www.kiwis-soar.com
Maralee Gerke has published a new book of poetry called A New Lexicon. If you are interested please ask for more information at mgerke@crestviewcable.com
Sheri Stanley has opened a new web site and invites you to visit at: www.poetryandbeyond.net Please leave comments and visit often.
Shloka Shankar has a poetry page on Facebook called 'Shloka Shankar: a rasika's musings'. To read more of her poems, please visit: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shloka-Shankar-a-rasikas-musings/745965042120215?ref_type=bookmark
Lisa DeVinney has a website for her devotional poetry called Lifting My Eyes, at liftingmyeyes.com
Karen O’Leary released Whispers, her first book of poetry in 2011, published by APF Publisher. It has been getting good reviews and is available at online at www.lulu.com (Search Whispers under Karen O'Leary) or contact Karen at gksm@cableone.net
John W. (Bill) Williams published a science fiction book that he also illustrated called The Dream Hill. To order copies from Xlibris Company call 1-888-795-4274 or go to www.Xlibris.com The website provides sample pages of the book for interested readers.
PUBLICATION/CONTEST OPPORTUNITIES
Please consider supporting The Jokester and Creative Inspirations by sending stamps or other small donations to help with postage. Thank you for considering this. ---Karen
ayaz daryl nielsen's print publication bear creek haiku is always open for postal submissions, mail poetry to bear creek haiku, po box 3787, boulder, co, 80307, USA, 11 lines and less, include SASE. Can be contacted at darylayaz@me.com, blog site is bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.
Tom Davis, publisher of Old Mountain Press, invites all to review his eBook site (Kindle and NOOK) where numerous Old Mountain Press Anthologies of poetry and prose are listed see: Self-publish an electronic book e-book with Old Mountain Press
Maurice J. Reynolds, the editor of the poetry publication Creative Inspirations, is seeking poetry 20 lines or less for his print magazine. Complete guidelines are available at www.tgbtgpublictions.com Stamps or cash donations would be appreciated to help with mailing costs.
Jean Calkins, editor: The Jokester, 2 pages of clean jokes free by email monthly, a forever stamp by snail mail (monthly or quarterly). Help bring smiles to shut-ins by contributing forever stamps. Even one stamp helps. Jean Calkins, 260 4th St., Waynesville, NC 28786-3762. jcalkins01@charter.net
David Fox is seeking family-friendly poems for his magazine, The Poet's Art. Rates for the publication are $5 an issue or $20 for a 4 issue subscription. Checks should be made to cash. Foreign contributors should pay $10 by international money order or American cash only. Send submissions and money for subscriptions to David Fox,171 Silverleaf Lane, Islandia, NY 11749 USA.
Whispers is always looking for new writers to join our community. Please send family friendly poems 20 lines or less to gksm@cableone.net Complete guidelines posted 1/21/2013. Thank you to everyone who has already contributed to the site.
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