[Philip Quinlan]

Sheen

Sun splinters
In water's skin
Quivers hundreds
Of lines to rim
One radiance
You within

Samuel Menashe

[Ed Shacklee]

Television

Hug me, mother of noise,
Find me a hiding place.
I am afraid of my voice.
I do not like my face.

xxx- Anne Stevenson

[FOsen]

A poor thing, but -

After Sū San

Bed with you
was Mount Olympus
but now you’ve gone,
it’s just white plains again.

Frank

[Roger Slater]

Ed Conti has a million of them, but I've always been especially fond of this one, whose title (if it had one) I forget. Ed will forgive me if I've mangled it, but this is the way I remember it:

Life is a journey
that ends on a gurney.

[Mary Meriam]

Amateur Astronomy

The constellations in her vast dark eyes

Induce a host of telescopes to rise.

—Don Thackrey

[Bill Carpenter]

God of Roads

I, peregrine of noon.

--Yvor Winters

[Shawn P. Canon]

Originally Posted by RCL

And let's not forget Nash's

Candy
is dandy
but liquor
Is quicker.

[This message has been edited by RCL (edited November 28, 2003).]

RCL: BEING IN RECOVERY, I THANK YOU FOR THE REMINDER...........
.........."One Day At A Time". You could add a line or two by saying how or why liquor is quicker.
Mahalos , Shawn.

[Shawn P. Canon]

Originally Posted by Ed Shacklee

Television

Hug me, mother of noise,
Find me a hiding place.
I am afraid of my voice.
I do not like my face.

xxx- Anne Stevenson

Hi Ed: When I was a freshman in high school in 1962, my biology teacher called the TV the 'idiot box'. This candid short poem states the TV on other clear notes of varied planes.
MAHALOS, Shawn

[Ed Shacklee]

Stevenson does show 'the soul of wit' in that poem, Shawn. It illuminates so much without giving an easy out or answer. I so admire poets who have that gift.

Ed




I had gone broke, and got set to come back,
And lost, on a hot day and a fast track,
On a long shot at long odds, a black mare
By Hatred out of Envy by Despair.

xxxxx- J. V. Cunningham

[Jesse Anger]

One of my favs.

The Owl

Beneath her nest
a shrew’s head,
a finch’s beak
and the bones
of a quail attest

the owl devours
the hour,
and disregards
the rest.

wendy v.