Poetry Corner

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A song sung once in beauties past,
of health, and home, and hungers last.
Of poppies peace,
and summers night ease,
Shimmers of shadows, tomorrow's hold fast.
A song sung once is not at all,
but a cry from the heart, no sparrow's call.
Heart's cry meet the day,
and have your way,
That I might see, and never fall.

by JAH,1995.
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Thine Crying Eye
By moon and stars,
And colored clouds;
My mind is free.
The Goddess, my muse,
Has set my soul afire.
To burn the curse,
Of evil and sadness
The wind through my body,
Brushing my soul.
To forgive the forgivness.
Oh the happiness I hold.
By the crying streams,
And the laughing flowers;
The earth speaks,
To ever
Open minds.

by Emilie Barger
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In the morning I awaken
and
within the dusty, illiterate thresholds
of my mind
I am lying on feather pillows, eating breakfast in bed
peaches and cream and those triangle toast slices
(or whatever they eat)
and I arise and dress in expensive silk clothes
with unpronounceable names
and I drive downtown in my Rolls or Mercedes
(or whatever they drive)
and enter a teeming, massive building
BUILDING!
Bustling brimming and harried business men women
Pass by the salvation army volunteers
Whose musical bells pierce the cacophony
and I lunch at La Boue d'Argent or Leicester's
(or wherever they lunch)
and come home late to retire to my bed
and I roll over
and I sit up
the cracked sidewalk spreads bloodless lips
and swallows my dream
and I cover myself with last week's newspaper
to keep out the November chill

By Selene, 1994
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O Great Mother
Bless those who have followed you many moons before
O Great Goddess
 Bless the children of today, for they have relit the torch
O Great and powerful Mother
 Thank you for my Spiritual birth
you are the mother of the field
Mother of trees
Mother of the womb
Mother of wind
but
most of all
Goddess
of all

by Craig Hatch