Perceptions. Video Poem & Book Review. Gary Beck.


 

‘Perceptions’, is a just published poetry collection that challenges many of our attitudes and values, showing us many of our concerns that grow more troubled in these difficult times. Disasters of our time come into immediate focus as they occur. We are shown again and again the catastrophic events of the day. It is the lingering effects that are seen from different viewpoints, and produce a sometimes volatile perception of our world.
 
Amazon.com. Perceptions Gary Beck
 
Perceptions is a 146 page poetry volume. Available on paperback with a retail price of $10.99, and eBook with a retail price of $4.99. The ISBN: 1941058493. Published through Winter Goose Publishing and available now through all major retailers.

 
 
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Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theater director, and as an art dealer when he couldn’t make a living in theater. He has 11 published chapbooks and 3 more accepted for publication. His poetry collections include: Days of Destruction (Skive Press), Expectations (Rogue Scholars Press). Dawn in Cities, Assault on Nature, Songs of a Clerk, Civilized Ways, Displays, Perceptions (Winter Goose Publishing). Fault Lines, Tremors, Perturbations, Rude Awakenings and The Remission of Order will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. Conditioned Response (Nazar Look). Resonance (Dreaming Big Publications). His novels include: Extreme Change (Cogwheel Press) and Flawed Connections (Black Rose Writing). Call to Valor will be published by Gnome on Pigs Productions and Acts of Defiance will be published by Dreaming Big Publications. His short story collection, A Glimpse of Youth (Sweatshoppe Publications). Now I Accuse and other stories will be published by Winter Goose Publishing. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines. He currently lives in New York City.
 
 
 
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Blue. A Poem by Judy Moscowitz

Color me blue
I can swing in red
Feel my own skin
But color me blue
As in the blues with a beat
Slow cooling heat
Back of the bus blues
When life is unjust
Blue hoodie blues
Straight from the pipes
Brown dirty water blues
Songs of whiskey and sex
Blues slamming
Choke hold blues
Let me feel its color
Azure, cerulean, navy
Empathy blues filling the sky
Color me black
 
 
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Judy started playing piano at the age of three, and studied at the Julliard School Of Music in New York City, her native city.
She became a jazz pianist and continues to play jazz. Now residing in Florida, she started writing poetry three years ago, and has been published in the Moonlight Dreamers Of The Yellow Haze anthology by Michael Lee Johnson, Thepoetcommunity, Whispersinthewind, Indiana Voice Journal. Poetry runs deep in her veins along with Music.

 
 
 
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BOY DOWN THE WELL. A Poem by John Grey.

They say there was a boy who fell into the well years ago

and his body is still down there.

I was told to stay away,

as if his ghost would coax me into his dark bottomless world.

People even gave him a name – Hector.

And he’d be in my dreams, tiny and pale-faced,

dressed in a blue and white sailor’s suit,

begging me to come out and play.

A parent’s warnings were powerful medicines

but they didn’t work so well in the head.

Here was the danger that stalked innocents –

not the boogie man, not the pedophile cruising

the suburban streets, but reflections of our own selves –

curious and ignorant, edging too close to the holes in the world.
 
 
Then they said there was no such boy,

that it merely local legend invented by an older generation

just to frighten off the likes of me.

There were some who said the well served no purpose

and the council should just fill it in.

“Where’s the money coming from?” the mayor asked.

It seemed like make-believe Hector

would go without his decent burial.

Myth or no, the talk planted his seed in my brain.

My nights were his last opportunity for life in death.

“So what’s it like down there?” I’d often ask him.

“Look around you,” he’d reply.
 
 
As much as I sought out the world in stages,

there were always opportunities for brutal change at any moment.

Between learning how to read and kiss a girl,

a kid was paralyzed in a car accident.

Right on the verge of his first lesson in algebra,

another fell through the ice.

No one toppled down that well in my time

but I dropped from a tree and sprained an ankle.

And my knees were skinned more often than western settlers.

Nothing ever happened to Hector.

He was dead whether he existed or not.

I survived childhood. He disappeared,

figured I was too old not to know better.

Hector. You fell into that one, didn’t you.
 
 
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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, South Carolina Review, Gargoyle and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Cape Rock and Spoon River Poetry Review. To view more of his work Poetry Life & Times & www.artvilla.com
 
 
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A brief history of State Surveillance. A Poem by Goirick Brahmachari

 

At first it was Model Flat
where four beautiful girls living
in a small apartment,
were broadcasted live every day 
on Fashion TV.
 
Then came the celebrities, 
censored to suit Indian audience
and an anchor who has just been jailed.
And then, there was Facebook
so we chose to stream our lives live
pouting, bending 
unbending; self-loathing, 
politicising privacy.
 
Sometimes it does get hard
now for me to ask:
In this age of surveillance,
who watches you naked every night?

 
 
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Goirick Brahmachari lives in New Delhi, India. He hails from Silchar, Assam. His poems have appeared in various Indian and international magazines.
Further reading of his work can be found at www.artvilla.com & Poetry Life & Times

 
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Naked and Alone – A Poem by Ron Olsen

Naked and Alone

by Ron Olsen

When one’s only sin

Is driving while black

It demands of us all

A slight glancing back

Beyond Donald’s hair

The rhetoric

And flair

Is the past

Aghast

Smashed

Trashed

As though it never happened

Lessons forgotten

Lying there rotten

 

Rodney King

The L.A. Riots

The burning

The death

The fear

The push to move beyond where we were

To what we could be

A commission’s plea

A consent decree

A plan to get us there

Beyond the hair

The rhetoric and fear

The cloud of deceit

And self-interest

 

All of it washed away by time

As though it never happened

Leaving us here

Naked and alone

In our childlike simplicity

Doomed to repeat futility’s call

Refusing to see the future

In our past

 

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Ron olsen is a Peabody and Emmy winning journalist and occasional poet who lives in Bel Air, Maryland.   More of his work can be found at http://workingreporter.com/poetry.html and at workingreporter.com