William Shakespeare

“Absence from those we love is self from self – a deadly banishment.”
- William Shakespeare

Sonnet #130 by William Shakespeare

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath than from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak; yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound:

I grant I never saw a goddess go ;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

- William Shakespeare

Antisthenes

“As iron is eaten away by rust, so the envious are consumed by their own passion.”
- Antisthenes

Snap by Mitch Hicks – U.K.

© 2010

Paul Engle

“Verse is not written, it is bled; Out of the poet’s abstract head. Words drip the poem on the page; Out of his grief, delight and rage.”

- Paul Engle

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

“The Fierce In-Urgency Of Now” by Mark McNease

Once upon a campaign
a future president convinced us
the now is fierce and urgent.
I have discovered his error.

Now is not urgent.
Now is a flower in a moment,
a bee on its petal. Now is a rock
washed over by a stream.
Now is one hand held in another.
Now is a breath taken. Now is a sigh.

Now is death, passing life on its way out.
The most revolutionary thing
we can do is slow down.
The only thing urgent is to
pay attention. The only thing fierce
is to know you are alive.

Mark McNease

Photograph by L. K. Thayer

© 2010

“$55.00 Parking Ticket” by Roz Levine

"Gulp, Gulp, Gulp!!"

Beware of $55.00 traffic tickets
They’ll break the bank
If your funds are down low
They can bring on bull rage
Raise your pressure
Cause hyperventilation
Introduce sweat bullets
On your forehead and armpits
Brings forth curses and foul mutter
About authorities and officers
Rules and regulations
With your breath
On gulp gulp gulp
With your stomach
On a roller coaster ride
With your head
Ripe for an explosion
Beware of chalk lines
On car tires at curbsides
But calm down, my friend
You don’t have cancer
You don’t have AIDS
You don’t have MS
It’s just a traffic ticket
Not a fucked up life.

Roz Levine

Photo by L. K. Thayer

© 2010

“Fruit For Thought…” Cherry Pic by Shristina

Photograph by Shristina

“Cherry-Time”

“Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.

In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.”

Robert Graves

“Fold” by L. K. Thayer

I hate doing laundry
Especially my own
The clothes that I soiled
The folding
It’s so temporary
The folding because
It just comes undone
They say it all comes out in the wash
They say everybody is a winner
But to match socks and to
Save receipts and to balance my checkbook
Leaves me undone
Phobic actually, into paralyzing fits
Of truth or consequences
I rebel
I rebel at needing to balance my life
Trying to balance on the heels of
Spiked stilettoed truth
Far fetched is the good Samaritan
Who lends a hand to a damsel in distress
And gets his balls chopped off in the process
I rebel at clipping coupons and tightening my belt
And chasing dust bunnies under the rug

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

Banksy

“I need someone to protect me from all the measures they take in order to protect me. “
— Banksy

“The Red” by Candice Rosales

I wasn’t ready for it tonight.

Her insistent look or the urgency of

The red.

A long pour please, I wasn’t

Ready tonight.

Red copper hair came not once but

Twice.  I knew she would have it too,

like it was some fundamental truth.

Her wide eyes and the wisdom she came with.

I am too weak for her, always have been.

How do you feed this child from your breast?

How do you nurture a soul older than your own?

I have muddled through, blind and stupid, groping

After the immutable fact of my love for her.

it has never failed me, and doesn’t tonight.

Her unflappable heart searching mine

For what comes next?

The red has spread.

A crimson inkblot prologue to

a hip-splitting birthpain.

This is my territory!

These secrets are mine to share, and I do.

I grip her tight – so tight!

I whisper that this is just the beginning

And I smile into her wide eyes the way I did

When she was born the first time.

I don’t mention what has died tonight,

I’ll take up the cause

Of mourning on my own.

Red always does me in.

Candice Rosales

L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

© 2010

Adrienne Rich

“Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.
…
The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.”

- Adrienne Rich

Photo By L. K. Thayer

© 2010