down

by paul bunyan

paul bunyan is writing an epic poem about the history of the universe and the human race

i went down to the river to chop down a tree but forgot my axe so it was not meant to be i went to the fair to buy me a bride but the bride ran away so i sat down and cried i met farmer brown and bought a pig and a cow but the pig ran away so what do i do now? i went to the city to find me a job first i got beat and then i got robbed i went to mcdonalds to buy a burger and fries but the gypsy was there because she was so wise i went to the ocean to catch me a shark but the tide was out so i sat in the dark it seems there’s no place in this world for me it’s all a conundrum but no mystery

album

by laurel abercrombie

laurel abercrombie writes poems about her family tree, stretching back centuries

my mother belonged to four or five book clubs and sampled countless herbal teas her mother had a royal (regal?) manner but was always nice to me her mother’s mother (my great-grandmther) was, as a matter of course, a student of genealogy and her mother, in the mists of time was a suffragette and as proud of it as she could be further back than that the ladies blur into one another sad as it is to say that <> details are a bit scarce except for their names ( many of them recurring) and the numbers of their offspring but i assert with confidence that they all dreamed of being free

teacher, part 2

by rhoda penmarq

two women sat on a bench in the twilight they talked about men “i do not find the subject at all humorous” the present is always with us the future not quite so much not even in the so-called 21st century the patriarch stroked his long white beard and stared at the work of art which he had been told represented the future so this, he thought, is human civilization and this is te best they can do perhaps i should write a novel about human civilization in the 21st century and perhaps touch glancingly on so-called western civilization and even more briefly on so-called patriarchy and look briefly into the mists of the future it will all be very scientific, to be sure and clean and bright and shining the sun flashed through the window briefly illuminating the past but it was only human civilization in the form of poetry and the lost art of western civilization lost in the present all very sad

the forest

by robin hood

robin hood writes poems about the cruelty and injustice of all life

rudy jones was the reddest leaf in the forest larry brown was the littlest bug in the forest and ate rudy gus smith was the greenest leaf in the forest george washington was the biggest gorilla in the forest and ate gus ridley dunlop was the biggest raindrop in the sky number 5 was the driest dirt path in the woods and swallowed ridley roy jones was the littlest rabbit in the forest he never had a chance lucas jefferson was the biggest bolt of lightning in the sky tom brown was the oldest tree in the forest he, too, never had a chance the sheriff of nottingham used to be my pal he never gave me a chance listen - you can hear the sounds of teeth chomping of rain falling of thunder crashing of rocks rolling of armies marching but mostly of teeth chomping and gastric juices dissolving

teacher, part 1

by rhoda penmarq

i am a science teacher i have taught science for a long time men are pigs this is the 21st century but the patriarchy is alive and well art costs money the patriarchy has plenty of it especially in the past and so does so-called western civilization is western civilization as bad as all that? “can’t any of you people take a joke?” i was born in the 21st century women! men are all pigs sorry, i am not very much interested in poetry i am a science teacher men are pigs the future is on fire poetry is on the top shelf women, don’t get me wrong i bought my wife a birthday present but that is all in the past because she was a woman but did not read romance novels i try so hard to understand they say the novel is dead i know i do not want to write one

eternity

by nancy dark

nancy dark writes poems abut being herself

i sit in my room and lift up my voice i have to be me i have no other choice i have had many lives i have been many things i have been locked in boxes and pulled with strings i have been hung on trees and dropped from skies been drowned in rivers and baked in pies i have been poked with sticks and given thousands of tests and always been told it was all for the best the lives keep on coming like raindrops in spring and yet through them all i ask only one thing is it asking too much to wish to be free for just one life in eternity?

5 haiku

by jennifer robinson lodge

jennifer robinson lodge writes haiku, always in the 5 - 7 - 5 syllable pattern

lonely blade of grass breaking through years of concrete quietly stepped on * under a white moon a jumper restores order insanity smiles * terror in the street look out below the neighbors the parrot comes clean * * excuse me dear sir my origins are not clear but the dinosaur * i used to love rain especially in spring but now my feet hurt * *