<\/div>\n

Wake in dark
\nLook for light
\nStumble to start<\/p>\n

Steven B. Smith<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
$\"Pull$
Pull Here by Steven B. Smith<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Carolina$
Carolina Wren by PM Pope<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
hedge fun<\/p>\n
the atmosphere grainy
\nrife with warmth
\nlike old-time photographs<\/p>\n
outside the window
\na sparrow pops her head
\nout from a manicured hedge<\/p>\n
Marc Mannheimer<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Cat$
Cat by Steven B. Smith<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Landerhaven<\/p>\n
In winter,
\nThe drainage ditch
\nAcross from the medical
\ncomplex freezes over
\nBecomes a pond pretty enough
\nTo live in Vermont-
\nThe cattails and thistle
\nlook like rusted
\nMetal sculptures in a
\ncrazy artists front yard-
\nThe sun is a white cotton ball
\nTrapped in wet grey lint-
\nI don’t care what they say
\nWinter is god damned beautiful.<\/p>\n
Celeste McCarty<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Cleveland$
Cleveland by Kimberley Bones Diamond<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Easter$
Easter Lake by Steven B. Smith<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Pond$
Pond by Dad (Tim Green)<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Moon$
Moon by Jen Pezzo<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Mindfrost$
Mindfrost by Steven B. Smith<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Photo$
Photo by Jen Pezzo<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
I’m looking out the window, husband asks,
\n“Do you see a poem out there? Are they
\nflying around out there?”<\/p>\n
“Maybe,” I answer<\/p>\n
Today the window contains
\nSaturday, December 23rd snow
\nsticking to wizened tree branches
\non a gray paper sky<\/p>\n
Snow drops whimsically down, each flake
\nsmall and oscillating as a gnat.<\/p>\n
The apartment building
\nacross the street is a squat vintage
\nbrick monolith, wet and cold and rough
\nto the mind’s touch<\/p>\n
An occasional sputter of a car<\/p>\n
Birds wherever they are<\/p>\n
Radiator ticks, cat sleeps,
\nhusband smoking like a chimney
\nin a chair<\/p>\n
i<\/i><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
Black Cat Scat<\/p>\n
Black cat ignored my lap
\nfor couch rub next to Lady<\/p>\n
When I got up
\nblack cat took my ass warmed place<\/p>\n
When I sat down and put her in my lap
\nshe left me for a fly<\/p>\n
When fly got away
\nshe went back to Lady couch<\/p>\n
Where’s my I in this food chain?<\/p>\n
Steven B. Smith<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"we$
we may be ugly but we have the music by agram bigsby<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"big$
big ole bangkok moon by larry collins<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"When$
When we say welcome to the jungle, we mean it by agram bigsby<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Winter Garden
\nFor Kathy on her birthday<\/p>\n
Evening snow has fallen
\nAnd covers the past year
\nSo it may sleep<\/p>\n
I look out the window
\nAnd dream about the New Year
\nWhen you and I will go for a walk
\nSearching for snow drops
\nThat lift their heads to
\nSing to the sky<\/p>\n
Each morning the Earth waits
\nFor us to be surprised
\nAt the small gifts it has hidden
\nFor us to find<\/p>\n
You always find them because you look and listen.
\nI want to hear their music
\nIn my own way as you do.<\/p>\n
Let us open the gate and walk
\nThrough this winter garden<\/p>\n
Heather Ann Schmidt<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
Waiting Room<\/p>\n
Overheard Doctor walking by
\ncell phone to ear,
\n“I’m not supposed to tell you…”
\npause
\n“I’m not supposed to tell you…”
\npause
\n“I’m not supposed to tell you…”
\npause
\n“You’ve got to swear not to tell anyone else.”<\/p>\n
Steven B. Smith<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"iris$
iris by chris cipriani<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
No doubt<\/p>\n
I\u2019ve been waiting for a day like this
\nthe crab apple buds have just added
\npink back to the garden palette<\/p>\n
before
\nthe rock that blocked the grave
\nwas rolled away<\/p>\n
there was
\nPersephone\u2019s promise
\nSeegwun\u2019s ringlets
\nwine and unleavened bread<\/p>\n
the reminders
\nchange will out
\npainted, sung
\nregeneration
\nand life eternal<\/p>\n
even as the questions
\nfeel more complicated
\nthe answer is simple<\/p>\n
I dance today
\nbecause I can
\ndance today
\nI eat because I am hungry<\/p>\n
I had forgotten it
\nwas not that I have been forgotten
\nit was that I forgot
\nthere could be a day like this<\/p>\n
and there it is
\nthe crab apple tree<\/p>\n
Kimberley Bones Diamond<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Cherry$
Cherry blossoms by Heather Ann Schmidt<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"blue$
Photo by Tom Swank<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Green$
Green by Mike Setta<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
SALONI KAUL
\nSALONI KAUL\u2019S SONNET MISCELLANY
\nSPRINGBOARD OF SENSATIONS
\nby Saloni Kaul<\/p>\n
Loud visual rhythms all depicting dimensions,
\nA host of moods and bands of bright colour,
\nAll generate a springboard of sensations
\nWhere swift each turn each twist the whole alters.
\nThe composition linear and compactly ordered
\nAcquires curves, curvacious all aspects ,
\nBanished are the unseemly hems bordered
\nBecoming sinuous, dynamic in prospect.
\nWith those inclusions of extraneous elements
\nThe world view stretches and perimeters lengthen stark clean.
\nWe have beautiful unpredictable movement ,
\nAnd see from far what\u2019s round the bend unseen.
\nWho can predict, with all that dash , all that verve,
\nThe directions exact precise of the next curve ?
\nSaloni Kaul<\/p>\n
SALONI KAUL<\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"owls$
owls by bree<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Solstice Night<\/p>\n
Dusk descends muting the light of day
\nAutumn waves her languid arms
\nWhispering her farewell
\nSnowflakes fall tatting a layer
\nOf delicate lace, onto rolling hills
\nHushed evening, stillness won
\nClouds drift
\nShadow dancing, on the darkened sky
\nRevealing the Mona Lisa moon
\nThe shifting twilight
\nEnlists moon and earth
\nTo engage in hide and seek
\nPlayful moonbeams
\nAwakened billowing hillside
\nFlakes sparkle geometrically
\nSporadic glimmer,
\nStars glisten a response
\nAnswering their earthen sisters call
\nDispersing spirit\u2019s message
\nSnowflake twinkles to the south
\nNorthern star sparks a return
\nOrion releases his bow
\nIgniting a quick gleam below
\nUrsa major sparkles
\nColdscape east
\nThen west glint in reply
\nHeaven and earth speaking
\nIn crystalized Morse code
\nOn this the longest night
\nThey sing a prism verse, without voice
\nConverting light to faith
\nSolstice speaks
\nThrough the silence of the night\u2019s dream<\/p>\n
S. Renay Sanders \u00a9<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
*
\nthis fire is for you.
\nmay it warm & warn you
\nof the cool times to come.<\/p>\n
make U do what you haven’t done.
\nmake U imagine with Passion won
\nlike the Light when U challenge the Sun.<\/p>\n
May your Balance come
\n& bee comb your honey
\nblack hair
\n& send you out there
\nfor every Grand Affair
\n& have you wear the Air of
\nwhat U came to become.<\/p>\n
Maxwell Shell<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
and it is barely<\/p>\n
the owl sails directly, cuts the
\ndark. i am left with so many
\nwoodpeckers, it seems like a
\nconspiracy- and i watch a brown
\ncreeper puffed up against the cold.
\ni look as long as a joke. then a
\nhermit fits into a tulip- i forget about
\nthrushes until i see one. its
\nsuspecting, vibrant and lush- one
\ntitmouse lands, gives me a look like
\nshock and moves on. downies small
\nas the chickadees, i dont bother with
\nthe focus- i let the thousand songs
\nsubside my little grief, which is this
\nmarcescent leaf curling.
\nit is red, and it
\nis barely.<\/p>\n
Bree<\/em><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
$\"Prep$
Prep by Chris Cipriani<\/p><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
DAVID SANBORN ON DA LOLOUILA<\/p>\n
I got David Sanborn
\non da lolouila<\/p>\n
blowing his saxophone
\nlike wun screeching eagle<\/p>\n
to wun funky upbeat\u2014<\/p>\n
Da jazz man has me grooving.<\/p>\n
Anadah morning is dawning
\nin da neighborhood<\/p>\n
and I stay willing
\nto simply be chilling.<\/p>\n
Looking out of my window
\nat wun street in Old Brooklyn<\/p>\n
da masterful musician
\nis giving me wun varied soundtrack.<\/p>\n
He\u2019s getting kinnah mellow now<\/p>\n
as I watch wun guy
\nshuffle down da sidewalk<\/p>\n
bundled up foa da wintah.<\/p>\n
Da trees no moa leaves
\nand da sky is wun watercolor gray<\/p>\n
while David\u2019s notes
\nare melancholy and revealing\u2014<\/p>\n
Dose coincidental jives
\nand strange synergies are so cool.<\/p>\n
As it begins to snow again
\nda next track is on anadah upbeat<\/p>\n
and da sax man\u2019s instrument
\nis blazing like blowtorch.<\/p>\n
It doesn\u2019t mattah how cold it gets<\/p>\n
cause da songs on da \u00a0inside
\nare warming me up just fine.<\/p>\n
I got David Sanborn on da lolouila
\nvia wun shiny compact disc\u2014<\/p>\n
I can dig it, brah,
\nI definitely can.<\/p>\n
Joe Balaz<\/em><\/p>\n
lolouila\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Computer.<\/small>
\nbrah\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Bro.v<\/small><\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
asdfghjkl<\/p>\n
qwertyuiop<\/p>\n
zxcvbnm<\/p>\n
– fin –<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Wake in dark Look for light Stumble to start Steven B. Smith hedge fun the atmosphere grainy rife with warmth like old-time photographs outside the window a sparrow pops her head out from a manicured hedge Marc Mannheimer Landerhaven In…<\/p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":""},"categories":[4,5],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1363"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1363"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1363\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1392,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1363\/revisions\/1392"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1363"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1363"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1363"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}