All posts by Dale Wisely

Paige Foster

Lettering

Perhaps it is a sort of nostalgia,
this wistful feeling
that blossoms like wet ink on the page
every time I come across your handwriting
in an old book.

Fascinated by the multitude of ways humans communicate, Paige Foster spends a lot of time trying to coax various languages and mediums into playing nice with her.

Paige Foster

Pea Shoots

If you moved to Maine
to become a summer farmer,
I’d bring a book to the markets
and spend hours under the beating,
humid sun,
watching the fair-weather wanderers
peruse your hard-earned fruits,

and when the winter came
I’d bundle up
and make us coffee
and wait for spring.

Fascinated by the multitude of ways humans communicate, Paige Foster spends a lot of time trying to coax various languages and mediums into playing nice with her.

Wes Civilz

To Change a Famous Quote

Sex is something so divine that it
must be surrounded
by a bodyguard
of suffering,

because otherwise we’d not

stop.

Wes Civilz lives and breathes on a green hill in Vermont.

J. R. Solonche

Wild Turkeys

Like dirty oil
from an old

truck, the wild
turkeys leak

out of the woods
and across the road,

black drop, by black
drop, by black drop.

J. R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines, journals, and anthologies since the early 70s and is author of six poetry collections.

Larry Wright

Lava
doesn’t know
your stuff burns.

Larry Wright was born, raised and still lives in Sitka, Alaska, where in public, he’s been a bad singer a worse comedian and mediocre actor.

Marga Fripp

My worries are pink gerbera daisies

My heart,
your worries are
pink gerbera daisies —
large blooms, bold
and long-lasting,
flawless in form,
seed-bearing bright eyes
in the center,
nightless silhouettes
holding on
to the darkness within.

Marga Fripp is a women’s empowerment social entrepreneur who writes poems, that like music long to be heard, danced with and set free.

 

Larry Wright

Black Tail Deer

I am running red-eyed through the wet woods,
over ancient roots and rocky menaces
into the endless arms of night.

Larry Wright was born, raised and still lives in Sitka, Alaska, where in public, he’s been a bad singer a worse comedian and mediocre actor.