Photo by Alexis Rhone Fancher
WITH OTHER GUEST POETS!
THE RAPP SALOON
1436 2nd St
Santa Monica, CA 90407
Friday Night March 30th
Reading starts at 8:30PM
See you there!!
Snapped in Foleshill, Coventry by Mitch Hicks
| To Spring | |
| William Blake (1783) | |
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down Through the clear windows of the morning, turn Thine angel eyes upon our western isle, Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!The hills tell one another, and the listening Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turn’d Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth And let thy holy feet visit our clime!Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumèd garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our lovesick land that mourns for thee.O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put Thy golden crown upon her languish’d head, Whose modest tresses are bound up for thee. |
*A portion of the proceeds for each book sold will be donated to Doctors Without Borders*
I am a story… ~Cklara Moradian
The elephant in the room is armed
with breastplates Each time a woman’s
name is called we hurl our collective
breath ~Barbara Moore
Bella was forever Mrs. Peacock
in the library, rope in hand
hanging on harsh words ~Apryl Skies
for all the wild ponies in my life
may we always run free…~Alicia Winski
Dear Friends,
Mark your calendars for March 14, 2012! For the BOOK RELEASE IN THE COMPANY OF WOMEN: An Anthology of Wit & Wisdom, Sass & Class
In celebration of International Women’s History Month (March) and National poetry month (April) I cordially invite you to the official & much anticipated Online Book Launch for In the Company of Women; including the work of over 40 talented women from across the globe!
This is so exciting for all of us and we know you will enjoy the collection of over 100 carefully selected pieces of literature.
Proud contributors include Alicia Winski, Amanda LaPera, Annie Brodrick, Annie Hilerio, April Michelle Bratten, Apryl Skies, Barbara Moore, Bina Gupta, Camille Solari, Candice James, Carol Knepper, Carol McAdoo Rehme, Catharine Grasty, Cristina Umpfenbach-Smyth, Cklara Moradian, Gillian Prew, Gloria J. Wimberley, Helena Hunter, Jacqui Corcoran, Jessica Wilson, Karen Jones, Kate Lamberg, Katherine L. Gordon, Kimberley Rockdale, Lauri Langston, Leila A. Fortier, L.K. Thayer, Lois Michal Unger, Martina Reisz Newberry, Melissa Grossman, Pam Lampe, Paula Lietz, Peggy Anne Larson, Petra Whiteley, R. V. Reyes, Sadie Harris, Samantha Ledger, Sheila Crawford, Sheila Hageman, Silver Corbin, Sophia Argyris, Stephanie Bryant Anderson, Teri Louise Kelly, Tracie Skarbo, Trish Falin & Wanda Morrow Clevenger
For more info please visit our website: www.EdgarAllanPoet.com!
With much love and inspiration!
–
~Apryl Skies~
~Author ~Poet~ Filmmaker~
www.EdgarAllanPoet.com
“Breakfast in Montreal” photo by Helmut Zen
“Wisdom and penetration are the fruit of experience, not the lessons of retirement and leisure.
Great necessities call out great virtues.”
“Don’t be too harsh to these poems until they’re typed. I always think typescript lends some sort of certainty: at least, if the things are bad then, they appear to be bad with conviction.”
Dylan Thomas
The host, he says that all is well
And the fire-wood glow is bright;
The food has a warm and tempting smell,-
But on the window licks the night.
Pile on the logs… Give me your hands,
Friends! No,- it is not fright…
But hold me… somewhere I heard demands…
And on the window licks the night.
“There was an Old Man of Girgenti,
Who lived in profusion and plenty;
He lay on two chairs,
and ate thousands of pears,
That susceptible Man of Girgenti.”
Edward Lear, English artist,
writer; (1812-1888)
Photo “brushes & pixels” by
© 2012
My hands are cold, icy cold
sometimes.
And I don’t realize it
until Im out of the water, until Ive crawled up out of the hole of the frozen lake and
walked across the mist
to my fireplace.
His heart is always burning,
and I don’t realize Im not even feeling
until it comes over me like a gust of wind later when Im all alone. I cant defrost around you.
I can only melt these hard walls once Ive sat alone long enough by myself. Not thinking of anything in particular. Just feeling. And maneuvering through
the tales the wind provides,
as I ride,
up, down,
this way,
to that side.
Id ask you to ,but Im afraid you might actually do
it, peel the flakey old layers, like paint of off walls,
so that they do not encompass my heart. So my organ responsible for
embracing and holding another can jump,
and not sit like a statue on my mantle,
crowing it’s eyebrows and scuffing
at everyone who sits down below..
© 2010
Luscious fruit from Delaware,
Ruddy cheeks from Maryland.
Orchards of the sunny South,
In surprising plentitude,
Furnish freely every mouth
Appetizing, dainty food.
Peaches in the market stalls,
Peaches vended on the street
By the rogue who seldom hauls
Peaches good enough to eat.
Dealers a bonanza reap
From the blushing favorites,
While their cry of “Peaches cheap!”
Gathers in the silver bits.
What delicious nectar pure
Velvet cuticles enclose!
Pampered taste of epicure
No more toothsome flavor knows.
There are peaches tough as vice —
Acrid as a sharp retort!
Dear were they at half their price —
And, besides, of measure short.
Who is wise would rather tramp
Weary miles than eat of these;
Colic, cholera, and cramp
Lurk beneath their indices.
What are peaches minus cream,
Just enough to smother in?
Till the juicy quarters seem
Buried isles of coralline.
Tender freestones, mellow clings,
Nectarines without a scar —
Every one a picture brings
Of redundant groves afar,
Where the languid natives lie
Under peach-trees day by day,
Visage looking to the sky —
Picking peaches?— No! not they!
Waiting for the fruit to drop
In each facial orifice!
Surely, plan for gathering crop
Never labor saved as this.
Peaches, peaches! everywhere
Trains are carrying thick and fast!
Luxuries that all may share
Ere “peach-season” shall have passed.
((((((Squeezers))))))