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Matinee at the Eden TheaterBy Keith Moul QuailBellMagazine.com Only John Wayne’s heroics light the screen of the darkened theater. Kids crowd the matinée to be noisy, free, thoughtless for Saturday, ignore as faceted light bounces, squeals ricochet, John Wayne struts. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
How A Life Can Go On Like ThisBy James Diaz QuailBellMagazine.com pressing down in my chest some gauzy radio lover's lament no more The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Please Forgive my Terrible Ways, I am Just a Small Thing Making Mistakes All the Time By Elisabeth Horan QuailBellMagazine.com Forgive me Friend For the dastardly ire I've let in The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Learn to Love What Aches in YouYou are never too late I am giving you this poem like a prayer, a ghostling monk bowing to the sun on a mountain of scar I am singing The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Always AwakeNight and winter quilts the ground around the house. The shadow-throwing full moon and she lies awake Always awake to her call always staring at the branches On the ceiling move and entwine shift and split. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Day I Wake Up
The day I wake up is the day you must write to me. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Temple of the GodsOriginal words -- A picture of the heart and the spirit A breeze blowing through the silent music That which grows in the palm of your hand The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Poem: In Vain the Waves were Scattering the Powerlessness of Gravity by Margarita Serafimova12/10/2017
In Vain the Waves were Scattering the Powerlessness of GravityIn vain the waves were scattering the powerlessness of gravity— high crests, snowy, empty. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Love and Hellolove and hello my wide eyed wonder you who have struggled so long and so bitterly for your faith and occasional grace you who have tried to shape the numbing minutiae of chaos with nothing but your will The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Green KnightWords by Laszlo Aranyi Image by Christine Stoddard QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: Translated by Johanna Semsei From the start of time he has been following my footsteps without his sword or shield, in an armour oozing of the stench of rotting fish what water has given back, on his horse he rides. Figures |