Saturday, 23 April 2011

Issue Four


by Sandy Day

The door swings wide
with hinges oiled
like a smile
I’m open.

A lover’s body
is never old
as kindness takes a hold and
passion rises
from compassion’s well
deeply dug
receiving and giving
start over
it’s new
close your eyes
and remember
touch me all the time.

I need one chance
to begin again
and decide that
benevolence never ends.

The gift of age
is knowing
of stages
clinging not to the start.
Another deeper print
closer to life
sleep sex pray
and walk again.

The Old Ones In Renaissance

by Joseph Farley

Pan returned
accompanied by the old gods,
so the dance began.
A season of love followed
where the flowers all bloomed twice.
Then the year turned,
and it was the time of sacrifice.
The new believers barely looked,
too busy with their steps,
as the crying children
were stacked upon altars of stone..
As the smoke and ashes rose
the dancers slowed their pace,
but only just long enough
to wipe small tears from their face.

The Water of Life

by S.P. Flannery

Through pores in exhalation flows
liquids distilled thrice
in old oaken casks,
troglodyte barrels kept secret,
a cache dusted off to celebrate
the summer solstice,
mid-day the libations begin
to pour, sun-worshiped
faces explode with sanguine
exuberance, song and dance
appear, apprehension cast off
to allow voices to wail
in disharmony and limbs to flail
without purpose, time blurs
as sight spins remembrance
into black, into focus at
midnight when in a position
pronate, naked in sweat
licked fermented, the past.

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful renewal and resurrection theme for this weekend. Me thinks I'm in good company! Nice poems!