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April 2016 Issue - Poetry - Topic: Fresh Start
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Title : Begin AgainPoet : Edward Davies
Second chances aren’t that rare
Unlike fourths and fifths
The chance for someone to atone
Is one of nature’s gifts
Allowing one a second chance
A fresh start, if you will,
Allows the world to understand
You don’t mean any ill
So always think before you act
And don’t just piss and whine
Allow your friends another try.
Forgiveness is divine
Ryan wrote: "UnshackledA breeze
blows in, lifts her
with ease –
this shell.
As I whisper
farewell,
Godspeed –
the ties that bind
recede.
- Ryan Stone"
Glad to see you rhyming again, Ryno!
From Past To PresentBy Mahlia
Whispers trail you
Pointing fingers
Cold eyes staring
As you walk by
That was the way it used to be
Now you're here for the first time
Hoping, praying that you'll get it right
One step, two steps, you walk through the door
Smiles greet you
They rush to meet you
Here's to the future
Your brand new life!
Title: SpringBy: C P Cabaniss
A cool breeze whispers across
the land, a touch of frost
still lingers in its caress
Grass sprouts from earth's damp
soil, tender at this early stage
Renewed vigor fills every bone,
hooves dance across new growth
Leaves burst in vibrant
shades of green
A rustle, a breath, a sigh
to welcome this new season
of grace
Father By: Gretchen Guerrettaz
He grabbed my arm,
threw me to the ground.
Bruises forming, causing alarm,
whiskey in his breath.
I scrambled up, searching for the door,
Escape.
Escape.
I'm done. No more.
Screaming,
"GET OFF, GET OFF ME!"
"Stop, PLEASE!"
"You're, hurting me!"
That he did not,
Did not release me.
Dad,
What have you done.
----------------------
I'm leaving,
Already left.
Bag over shoulder,
Ticket in hand,
I'm starting over,
He won't miss me.
He's gone down,
six feet under.
Feedback is welcome!
1968James of Schiaparelli
A new life, they've promised me.
This train, a package in which I'm to be wrapped
with no return address, nothing to lead them back, but to take me onward.
My borrowed coat scratches at my neck, chafing.
A screaming whistle blows. Steam curls from the mechanical beast's throat,
winding and twisting in the underground.
A woman beside me whispers to her friend, and they erupt in giggles. If only.
The stream of commuters is populated with potential assassins. A man
lifts his glasses, but all I see is red as blood pounds through my vision.
What must my value be? A few hundred at best.
A few hundred for a deserter. And yet, dozens will come.
See, there's no such thing as a fresh start, a clean slate.
Though I may evade them for now, the mob never forgets.
I'm soaked, my pores dumping forth vats of sweat.
My shoes click obnoxiously as I shuffle to turn from the crowd.
How long will they wait? I'm sure they're here by now.
Will I make it to Luxembourg, or be pushed into a steaming boiler between here and there?
You'll be safe, I promise. The agent's words. My words. We both know
that there's no truth to them, but that social protocol dictates them anyway.
There's no use to telling me I'll die eventually. I knew that even as I testified.
I'll die, and I might as well know it. I'm scared, of course, but at least I can
be with Lisa once more...
This train is in no way protection, but I'll be glad to board nevertheless. It's as close to a fresh start as I'll ever get.
I love you, Lisa.
Be with me now.
Renaissanceby Sarah Russell
The robin sings at first light,
announcing new life in the old pine.
Below, sheltered by scruffs of willow
a fox kit blinks at sunrise from his den.
The barn cat’s manger nursery has sweet hay.
Fields glow nascent green,
and orchards burst white promises of harvest.
Mortals, blind with logic, claim
January starts the year,
while nature shakes her lovely head
and smiles, knowing
it begins in April.
The End by Rachel Heinen
I waved goodbye to my family
as I climbed into the car loaded with my entire life.
It was finally over. The end.
I packed it up by myself.
I was planning on dropping it off
in a storage container on the way.
I wanted to start fresh.
No more memories of this place. These people.
I might love my family,
but I still hated this town.
A miniscule place compared to the rest of the world,
but that didn’t make it any less corrupt.
In fact, if anything it was more corrupt.
Everyone knew everything.
There were no secrets.
I guess that’s why I decided to leave.
To get far enough away
to hopefully forget this wretched little town.
Hopefully I’d never need to return.
I watched the town get smaller in my rearview mirror.
I was free. I’m out.
In that moment, I wasn’t sure if this was the end
Or the beginning.
Kitten's Moonby Guy Duperreault
Her skin was the milk
of the gibbous moon caressed
by a kitten's tongue.
Well done and congratulations Anne, Kat, Ryan and Sarah! :-)
Congratulations Sarah, Kat and Anne! Thank you, judges - this truly made my day :)
Fantastic new addition to my favourite group.
If I can I make a suggestion - I think it would be appropriate if winners from one month are ineligible to enter the following month's competition.
And congratulations Kat, Anne and Ryan! I agree with your suggestion, Ryan, about eligibility. Can't wait to see the first issue!
Ryan wrote: "UnshackledA breeze
blows in, lifts her
with ease –
this shell.
As I whisper
farewell,
Godspeed –
the ties that bind
recede.
- Ryan Stone"
This is SO beautiful! The economy, the breezy movement...
Looks great! And honored to be in the inaugural issue!
Nicely done Al and everyone. The blog is a great idea, and it looks great! :-)
Congratulations to all the winners and participants! Alex, great work with the blog, as always!
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A breeze
blows in, lifts her
with ease –
this shell.
As I whisper
farewell,
Godspeed –
the ties that bind
recede.
- Ryan Stone