Monthly Archives: March 2017

J D DeHart

The Open Mouse

Fierce Rhetoric

Are we so wrapped
up in the cloud
of how words work
that we don’t stop to listen?

I pause at the end
of the debate and think
who could have been persuaded
by tirade and bluster?

Then find out when I wake
up on election morning.

A world of masses heard
the same words I did and absorbed
a completely different message.

But I’m working at getting better.

Copyright© J D DeHart 2017

JD DeHart is a writer and teacher.  His poems have appeared at Gargouille and The Other Herald, among other places.

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. plant .

sonja benskin mesher

i was away a while, since last summer‘s referendum. i have an

exhibition.

it was all leading up, then it was suggested that i wrote about

daffodils.

remember the repair shop?   where they fixed the old phone.

she said it needed two hands, so she could not write a    note

simultaneously
ˌsɪmlˈteɪnɪəsli/
adverb.
at the same time it resembled the flower.                            a bit.
it was a difficult day yesterday, the cat died, the boy threw up,
we had the article.                                       yet i decided to come
back
now the exhibition is up.                                  these things.
i have seen some people dressed as daffodils on facebook maybe
related to rugby and/or saint’s days.
she was a midwife.
these things.
sbm.
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Listen by Rick Richardson

I am not a silent poet

The night
so quiet like
a loaf of rising bread
or a letter
to the condemned
while the dead trees
of silence spread
their naked limbs
like a willow by the water
someone’s empty bed
listen
all I know
is this universe
is a swarm of stars
and the moon
that ancient stone
burning like a ship
takes my life
on a journey without me
deaf as sleep
cold as the black sea.

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. a change of contents intended.

sonja benskin mesher

it came in pink tissue, crumpled. the glass.

she said that i may like it though it was

not good class,   did not ring true. i said

i did and imagined an elixir,   blue and

deadly poisonous.

it has sat waiting, and being of a pleasant

#mood   added the lead soldiers instead.

( i guess those be toxic if sucked steadily)

so here is the glass with the old clock

that chimes wrong and the photo of

my father in the war, behind.

thank you mary. it is your birthday soon,

then mine comes later.

sbm.

daily post : elixir

17494336_1941613862737784_832868203930583040_n

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