Let Her Try. A Poem by Gertrude Stein Read by Maria Salgado.

Maria Salgado is a contemorary Spanish poet, here she reads her translation with explanation of Gertrude Stein’s famous poem Let Her Try, first in English then in Spanish to a very appreciative & enthusiastic audience

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Green Party Show Poetry Reading Amy King & Ana Božičević


 
 
Green Party Show: Poetry Amy King reading with Ana Božičević
 
On Wednesday, February 4, 2009, the Babylon Green Party Gathering featured a reading from 2007 Poet Laureate of the Blogosphere Amy King. Taped at the Pisces Café, Babylon, NY
 
Amy King.Born The United States
Website. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/amy-king
Twitter @amyhappens
URL https://www.goodreads.com/AmyKing
 
Amy King’s most recent book is I Want to Make You Safe (Litmus Press).
 
Amy also works with VIDA: Woman in Literary Arts, and teaches English and Creative Writing at SUNY Nassau Community College, as well as poetry workshops at such places as the San Francisco State University Poetry Center and the Summer Writing Program @ Naropa University.
 
Her poems have been nominated for numerous Pushcart Prizes, she was a Lambda Literary finalist, and she was the recipient of a MacArthur Scholarship for Poetry. Amy founded and curated, from 2006, the Brooklyn-based reading series, The Stain of Poetry, until 2010. Readings, reviews and more www.AmyKing.org .

 
She is also Moderator at Follow-the-Poetry at www.goodreads.com
 
 
 
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“This Opera of Peace” @ AWP Chicago – Poem by Amy King

Everything that happens now/ is preceded by another now/ until they pile/ on top of what we hold in layers/ that hide how falsely we/ perceive the landscape to be
 
Amy King
 
Poem from I Want to Make You Safe (Litmus Press) by Amy King Read by (in order of appearance): Starring in the order of appearance Annie Finch
 

 
Amy King.Born The United States
Website. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/amy-king
Twitter @amyhappens
URL https://www.goodreads.com/AmyKing
 
Amy King’s most recent book is I Want to Make You Safe (Litmus Press).
 
Amy also works with VIDA: Woman in Literary Arts, and teaches English and Creative Writing at SUNY Nassau Community College, as well as poetry workshops at such places as the San Francisco State University Poetry Center and the Summer Writing Program @ Naropa University.
 
Her poems have been nominated for numerous Pushcart Prizes, she was a Lambda Literary finalist, and she was the recipient of a MacArthur Scholarship for Poetry. Amy founded and curated, from 2006, the Brooklyn-based reading series, The Stain of Poetry, until 2010. Readings, reviews and more www.AmyKing.org .
 
She is also Moderator at Follow-the-Poetry at www.goodreads.com
 
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Every Piece of Flesh. A Video Poem by Nicholas Hallows

 
‘For every piece of flesh you buy, you’re paying to breed the next to die”
 

 
Vegan, Poetry, Animal Rights,
 
 
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Review Phoenix Rising from the Ashes

Richard Vallance
An appeal to poetry critics to review The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets of the Early Third Millennium
 
Since its publication in November 2013, The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets of the Early Third Millennium, has generally been met with positive reviews from purchasers and poetry reviewers. As editor of the anthology, I for one freely admit that several authors display considerable talent, while some, I believe, are exceptional sonneteers who have penned poems, which may one day be viewed as masterpieces of the genre.
 
There are also scores of sonnets in languages other than English,French, Spanish, Chinese, German and Farsi, while the English sonnets run from page 15 to 135, comprising 60% of the total in the anthology, sonnets in all other languages span pages 142 to 222, accounting for the remaining 40%.
 
A number of reviewers have already accorded decent marks to the anthology and I sincerely believe that most new critics and informed readers will be able to dispassionately review the anthology. On the other hand, it is equally incumbent to flag at least a few of the sonnets which display considerable talent and especially those which you, as a reviewer, consider to be jewels, pièces de résistence.
 
I am not saying that those of you poetry critics who read English only should feel discouraged from reviewing the anthology. Far from it, it is generally taken for granted that the majority of literary critics of English literature are allophone English, given that English is almost universally considered lingua franca of the world. Of course, I also welcome bilingual or multilingual critics, who are well positioned to critique the remaining 40% of “foreign- language” sonnets.
 
I entreat those of you who are poetry critics to give your dispassionate opinion of the anthology, what we are looking for is an objective appraisal, insofar as it is humanly possible. It does not matter whether you find the anthology below average, average or superior.
 
Regardless of your overall appraisal of the merits and demerits of this anthology, I shall send you all your own copy of the PDF version. Finally, it would be beneficial to the editors and sonneteers alike if you would rate it on a scale from 1 to 5. Also, the Editor who is at present publishing this appeal, every reviewer should bear this in mind, has promised to publish any of the reviews providing they are fair minded & objective in at at least two of the three sites herein listed: Motherbird.com, Artvilla.com or Poetry Life & Times.
 
I am grateful for the endorsement of this appeal by Robin Ouzman Hislop of Poetry, Life and Times. Richard Vallance
 
The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes http://vallance22.hpage.com is also available in hard cover, soft cover and PDF formats from Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble and Chapters.ca, among other online outlets.
 
The home page of the author, Richard Vallance, now a well-established professional historical linguist of ancient Mycenaean Greek, is Linear B, Knossos & Mycenae https://linearbknossosmycenae.wordpress.com, which has become the premier site for research into Linear B on the Internet since its inception in 2013. An internationally acknowledged historical linguist, in 2015 he was published in an international European conference proceedings and in the prestigious annual, Archaeology and Science (Belgrade), and is set to be published later this year in at least one other major international venue for historical linguistics. He is also an active member of one of the world’s most professional research sites, academia.edu, where you will find his page at https://westernu.academia.edu/RichardVallance/Papers

 
 
 
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Tribute to the late E. Darcy Trie by Wanda Brayton

Darcy Trie (onerios13) E. Darcy Trie
 
 
Darcy Trie was one of my first readers on the poetry site where we met over eleven years ago. Her unique talent was so obvious, it was intimidating. Her insights were keen, intelligent, witty and bright with creative energy. Her comments on my poems are incredibly astute, funny, intuitive and enlightening, causing me to read my own work in a different light. She had so many friends and admirers from all over the world. I’m happy that now she knows, without a doubt, her effect on so many and the inspirational seeds she planted. On a poem written by one of her friends, he replied to my comment by saying “her poetry writes fires”. My response was “Her poetry burns houses down. Entire subdivisions.” My bones ache with missing Darcy, yet I know our spirits are bound to reconnect someday on another sojourn on a different path.
 
Darcy Trie (1975 - 2016) onerios13
 
This column is about Darcy and her writing; I sent her the questions and she replied in her own original way.
 
http://allpoetry.com/column/10955759-Poets-of-AP—ONERIOS13-by-WandaLeaBrayton
 
I created a list where I will add poems inspired by and/or written to Darcy as they’re discovered. As of now, there are 84 poems, but it will continue to grow.
 
http://allpoetry.com/list/588544-Darcys_Genius_-_In_Memory_of_onerios13
 
E. Darcy Trie’s poems found online
 
http://allpoetry.com/onerios13
 
Her best friend Nicole Hanna created this website for Darcy:
 
www.e-darcytrie.com/
 
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Sara Russell’s Twitter page (Tribute)
 
paper.li/pinkyandrexa/1321389290
 
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www.wordriot.org/template_2.php?ID=1747
 
poetsporch.blogspot.com/2008/02/from-good-friend-c-darcy-trie-onerios13.html
 
altwrite.blogspot.com/2005/02/xing-nin-qia-lua.html
 
altwrite.blogspot.com/2005/02/penny-candy.html

 
Poem for Darcy Picture
“Ophelia [lying in the meadow]”, 1905 by John William Waterhouse
 
Poem for Darcy by Wanda Brayton
 
The One who softly calls for you to come at night
hears the wind roar as sudden storms flow through your bones;
an oasis of laughter, quiet whispers fluttering upon your hips
where sustenance may be found without a compass,
only murmurs cast into shadows to reveal the light you weave
with terrible truths and beautiful sorrows before dawn
 
You spend odd moments wailing wildly, walking in silence,
singing beneath moonlit stars, gathering madder,
crisped leaves fallen from sacred trees
to make your precious poultice; you create mandalas
made of jasmine ash, of myrhh’s seduction,
of frangipani memories, of green apple seeds
 
When you sleep, you travel swiftly, a bright arc
through time’s geography, tracing latitudes and longitudes
with purpose in your flight, fires lit within your belly,
love in your fingertips so deep, oceans rise
in envious whirls, tidal beasts howling admiration
for she who wears invincible wings
 
You are every woman history had once forgotten,
their existence erased by cruel men’s aspirations;
still, in their slumber, they moan your secret name –
yet, when they awaken, they cannot describe
those dire disturbances they felt so keenly,
their blood surged toward an invisible ache
 
Even now, they are haunted, their flesh dark with restlessness,
longing for a single glance of a beautiful bird they’ve never seen,
its song their only savior, their only sweetness, their mightiest woe –
Ophelia knew, Lilith knew, Delilah knew, and yes, even Medusa knew,
long after they’d tangled her silken hair with curses, then refused
to look into her eyes, understanding all too well
what burning thorns they’d find


 
 
Wanda Lea Brayton after wedding
Wanda Lea Brayton is a lifelong scholar, a prolific poet and a former college librarian who has been writing poetry since 1973 and columns since 2004. She’s done extensive editorial work and has assisted others with editing, compiling and promoting their own manuscripts. She married a brilliant writer in April 2009; they’ve disproved the theory that two artists cannot live together in harmony, let alone with only one computer between them. Her poems have been published by Clackamas Literary Review, Main Street Rag, World Poetry, Hudson View Poetry Digest, The Pedestal Magazine, Poetry Life & Times, Oak Bend Review, Aquillrelle, Stone Voices and other anthologies. She is a featured poet on a number of websites. A large volume of her poetry is available, titled “The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton”.
 
website: http://wandaleabrayton.blogspot.com/
 
Various links: Allpoetry author’s page: (member since June 2004) http://allpoetry.com/WandaLeaBrayton
 
Allpoetry columns link: http://allpoetry.com/columns/by/WandaLeaBrayton
 
Book: “The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton”
(8 1/2 x 11″, 556 pgs, approximately 1500-2500 poems, print and pdf)
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/the-echo-of-what-remains/16114406
 
Facebook profile: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000075708050

 
 
 
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When comes a day. Poem by Sheikha.A

 

You query me :
how staunch I’ve been?
 
I would say:
I have wrestled with luck,
and hid from watchful stares,
and called unto
only when life appeared scarce,
and forgot swiftly,
and remembered only at my will,
and cried when I had nothing,
and abolished most refrains
for the benefit of my stakes
 
but
 
ever since the day of love
and heartbreak
multiplying by each night
 
I remember You;
 
I query You.
 
 
 
 
entropy
 
 
Sheikha A. comes from Pakistan and United Arab Emirates. Her work has appeared in numerous magazines, ezines and anthologies and hopes for her work to be read and discussed widely. More of her work can be found on her blog sheikha82.wordpress.com

 
 
 
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A Story. A Poem by Rana Pratap Nandi

 
Once a Lord went with a bowl
Asked for money, but received a scowl.
Tried and tried, again and again
Managed to grind a fat bargain.
 
A balanced deal was designed and done
The Lords smacked their lips and fawned.
Though much will redirect to the scowl
Enough will still be left in the bowl.
 
“To form a trainer core
Let’s spend a few crore”.
Scent of blood sends predators on prowl
The story is one of blood and gore
The very material of great folklore.
Bulls and hounds ripped in a bloody brawl
While dingoes look on, yelp and growl.
 
Paid monotonous babbling maniacs
And snored the most confirmed insomniacs.
All nursed from the same shore,
Lord to serf:”Must come and train
And sow the pennies in the drain.”
Serf to Lord, “My Lord said pennies but there are crores!”
“You fool! Forget ponies and crows” the Lord roared.
 
“My lord thou art so right”
Said the serf, with a face so bright.
The light of knowledge illuminating his face
He is ready to go out, enlighten his race.

 
 
WP_20151213_11_40_19_Pro 2
 
 
Bio: My name is Rana Pratap Nandi. I live in Shillong, India and teach literature in a residential school. Several of my articles and poems have been published in different newspapers, literary supplements, literary e-magazines and an anthology of multi-lingual poetry. I love reading poetry and exploring and experimenting with folk culture. The North Eastern part of India, where I have spent most of my life is blessed with a wide variety of fascinating cultures still waiting to be meaningfully explored and interpreted.
 
 
 
 
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Transforming with Poetry at Inkwell Arts Centre Leeds UK

 
Transforming with Poetry-a
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
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LUCKY. A Poem by Marc Carver.

 
 
Today the beggar
who sits in the street on his sleeping bag in the rain was
on the bench
 
He looked like he was waiting for something
then a young girl came along with a pie and a coffee.
 
She gave it to him
I turned and looked at her face
it was filled with wellbeing
but my thoughts were with him
what a lucky bastard I thought

 
 
Dog Image 4 Motherbird poem
 
 
Bio.
 
I am an old dog of a man
dogs look at me as they pass and say
is that a man or a dog.
So i continue to write for the dogs
and the occasional email i get from someone i don’t know who tells me they like my work

 
 
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Everything was Alive and Dying. A Video Poem by Janet Kuypers


 
 
Janet Kuypers 1
 
 
Janet Kuypers is a professional performance artist, and is a writer, an art director, webmaster and photographer. She was even the final featured poetry performer of 15 poets with a 10 minute feature at the 2006 Society of Professional Journalism Expo’s Chicago Poetry Showcase. This certified minister is even the reverend.
 
 
She sang with the acoustic bands “Mom’s Favorite Vase” and “Weeds and Flowers”, and on occasion she still performs in “the Second Axing”, and does music sampling. Kuypers has over 70 books published and close to 40 audio CD sets released, and is published in books, magazines and on the internet around thousands of times for her writing and art work in her professional career, has been profiled in such magazines as Nation and Discover U, won the award for a Poetry Ambassador and was nominated as Poet of the Year. She has also been highlighted on radio stations, and has also appeared on television for poetry repeatedly.
 
 
She turned her writing into performance art on her own and with musical groups, and ran a monthly Podcast of her work for years, as well mixed JK Radio — an Internet radio station — into Scars Internet Radio (radio stations ran 2005-2009, and there are plans to start the radio stations again in 2011). She ran the Chaotic Radio show through BZoO.org and chaoticarts.org (2006-2007). She has performed spoken word and music across the country – in the spring of 1998 she embarked on a national poetry tour, with featured performances, among other venues, at the Albuquerque Spoken Word Festival during the National Poetry Slam; her bands have had concerts in Chicago and in Alaska; in 2003 she hosted and performed at a weekly poetry and music open mike (called Sing Your Life), and from 2002 through 2005 performed quarterly performance art. Starting in 2010 Janet Kuypers also hosts the weekly Chicago poetry open mic at the Cafe, where she also runs a weekly poetry podcast.
 
 
You can see video links and short poems as tweets at http://twitter.com/janetkuypers, and all of her book releases and video releases from the Cafe and her performance art shows can be seen at http://www.facebook.com/janetkuypers, but to ever learn more about her you can see her publishing organization, Scars Publications, on line at http://scars.tv, or you can learn about her at http://www.janetkuypers.com.

 
 
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Reviews. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop

All the babble of the Souk
all the life of the planet &
so little part of it, that I breathe

 
 
souk1
 
 

…on All the Babble of the Souk

Gary Beck – All the Babble of the Souk is an elegant journey through both foreign and familiar climes. Anything but babble. Time and space bend in mysterious mists and mechanistic voyages. The poems pulsate with languid images that add to the wonder of travel to exotic places.

Scott Hastie – A collection of real substance that is long overdue. Robin writes with impressive depth and across a spread of philosophic stimuli that he makes uniquely his own. You do not have to travel long before you trip over killer lines, again and again… This is fresh, original and mature work, grown from one special creative soul’s well seasoned experience. Robin truly has a voice that is his own and it has been worth the wait to see it flower…

Robin Marchesi – High time this great Poet was properly in print. His Poems resonate like the work of Cavafy and Gibran. They are deep and revealing, resonating in one’s inner self. This book will stimulate your metaphysical being. Robin’s Poetry opens you to questions about who you are…. Essential reading……

R. W. Haynes – Robin Ouzman Hislop’s All the Babble of the Souk grips elemental tangles with wisely wistful authority, making a claim both for the adequacy of animate language and for erudite perception. Counterpointing the abstruse and the inescapably basic, these poems draw upon a power that surprises, engaging the reader in the poet’s heartfelt conversation with a tradition and its diverse voices, including T. S. Eliot and Dylan Thomas. Hislop’s retro-modernist recovery of vision argues for a refreshed perception of poetic possibility and a turn from the infinite regress of the verse which echoes the empty sophistry of twentieth-century language philosophers. Music, with its syncopation, minor chords, pauses, accelerations, jingles, knocks, and elegiac phrases constitutes a crucial part of the essence of this splendid collection.

Ian Irvine (Hobson) – The metaphor of the ‘marketplace’ or ‘bazaar’ – symbolic in this collection of public spaces generally (both physical and cultural/mediatised) – launches this remarkable collection of poems by a poet, editor and creative thinker of international significance. The ‘souk’ is a place of trade, chance meetings, overheard conversations and communal eating. This collection also links it to our post-post modern state of life in the face of cultural globalisation. However, rather than theorise key aspects of our world we are invited to explore them instead as states of being – with joyous and anxious dimensions. As the poet/narrator mingles, observes, samples and digests (in poem after poem) a colourful array of stimuli – sensorial, relational and intellectual – we gradually feel our perception of life and the species crisis/moment deepen and expand. The melancholy grandeur of the human predicament slowly comes into focus – largely through the poet’s gift of empathy. A wonderful selection of poems updating for the new millennia themes mulled over by the likes of Baudelaire (in Paris Spleen), Apollinaire (in Zone), George Oppen (in Of Being Numerous) and many other great 19th and 20th century poets.

Marie Marshall – The eternal curse of a poetry editor is that she can seldom read for pleasure alone. For example, when I come across a phrase in Robin Ouzman Hislop’s new collection of poems – this phrase, ‘a beehive of allies’ – I find myself wondering whether he meant ‘alleys’, instead of just reading on and enjoying the ride. Because Robin’s poetry is often just that, a ride. The same poem that brought me up short in editor mode, contains lines like in little stanzas like

    The hag in her rags begs her bag
    holding all shadows to account.

each a new thought after a pause for breath, or so it seems, each with an image that sparkles, almost with effrontery. That’s how I like my poetry – image, sound, and bare-faced cheek.

As the images pile up, or maybe I unearth more as I drill down, discovering depth in the poetry, the typographical puzzles pile up too, and I begin to wonder if they are deliberate cantrips on the poet’s part. I hope they are. I hope they are, because I want to trust the poet’s intentions. I know he’s not your average Internet Joe, but a man with a mean, keen pen. He knows how to play, how to make free, how to brew poetry:

    Riding along in our dream machine
    our virtual reality all but a scream
    no exit
    blood on the wind screen, faithful Fido’s gone
    the machine’s a mess, – every where’s a gas.

    A trickle through a diaphanous sheen
    a thin crust peels, roll the dice
    a question of ethics, the cost of life.

Y’know, somewhere along the line, Ezra Pound and John Cooper Clarke rolled dice for this man’s soul, and I can’t say who won. Maybe he walked away laughing while the bones still tumbled, soul intact. I hope so. He has the measure of our suburbs, seeing how

    gleamed cleaned cars
    the phallus of a Sunday afternoon

let us (you’re here too, and I have morphed into ‘we’) catch our reflection in that polished surface, wondering how to measure the depth of the shine. Meanwhile

    Danger, Deep Water, Keep Out

As if we could. There are caesuras in this collection, but they almost seem accidental, as though titles, page breaks, and stars merely interrupted a flow of thought momentarily. The collection has the feel of a single work, as though the poet sat down, started at the beginning, wrote the middle, and stopped at the end. See? The golden arches of a fast-food outlet, the taunts of a cuckoo, big Sunday words like ‘bifurcation’, ‘pheromone’, and ‘olfactory’, all rub shoulders, and rub along. We ride. It’s the same ride all the time, but the scenery outside the window shifts, and fellow passengers come and go. Occasionally we get off, but only to stretch our legs

    As we celebrate
    life lies dead on the table
    we eat it.

and then the ride starts again. But a short offering like that reminds me that on the return journey I must insist on long enough to read each poem on its own… and I’m by myself again, closing the book at its final page. Second impressions:

The poet is aware of the shape of his work on the page, of its concreteness. The poet knows when to be serious and when not to, and he knows when to muddy the water of each with the other. When he says ‘Watch my stick’, you hear ‘This means you!’ The poet can make a dream return from the rubble of artifice. I know poetry when I see it.
 
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The Truth Whispers. A Poem by Pijush Kanti Deb

 
The truth whispers,
‘’a happy heart can’t discriminate
between a crow and a cuckoo’’
making me an example
as I’m quite happy
from top to bottom,
so unmindful to the conflict
between macro and micro
as all is well to my swelled generosity.
My mirror is happy
so blissful to reflect the same images
of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide.
My bed room is also happy
in making innocuous adjustment
among its ever-changing components-
authorized and unauthorized
or open and hidden
and dutiful always to cover
my demand up for extra-amusement.
My spiritual master withdraws happily
his imposed prohibitions
on my free movement
and leaves my free domain
saying,
‘’I’m truly needed to an unhappy only’’.

 
 
Photo0773
 
 
Pijush Kanti Deb is a new Indian poet with around 261 published or
accepted poems and haiku in around 90 nos of national and
international magazines and journals [,print and online] like Down in
the dirt, Tajmahal Review, Pennine Ink, Hollow Publishing, Creativica
Magazine, Muse India, Teeth Dream Magazine,Hermes Poetry Journal, Grey
Borders, Dagda Publishing, Blognostic Black Mirror Magazine,
Dissident Voice Journal , Indiana Voice Journal Aji Magazine Calliope
Magazine, Leaves of Ink Magazine and many more.
His best achievement so far is the publication of his first poetry
collection,’’Beneath The Shadow Of A White Pigeon’’published by Hollow
Publishing is available on AMAZON.

 
 
www.facebook.com/PoetryLifeTimes
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robin@artvilla.com
editor@artvilla.com

 
 
http://www.aquillrelle.com/authorrobin.htm
http://www.amazon.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop
www.lulu.com. All the Babble of the Souk. Robin Ouzman Hislop

All Of That And More – Poem by Ron Olsen

All Of That And More Poem

All Of That And More
by Ron Olsen

Popped the top
Poured it slow
Against the side of the glass
Forming a perfect head of foam
Hitting my tongue
Tasting the past
Taking me back
To a slower time
In so many small towns
We knew them all
They were our youth

My big Pontiac
Nearly off the snow covered road
So many times
Driving blind
On instinct alone
And the grace of God
Seeing us through
To maybe get lucky
On a Saturday night
In the frozen north

Through the haze
We’re there again
An ancient bar
Salted peanuts and purple pickled eggs
In Lake Henry
St. Martin
New Munich
A few others
Names forgotten in the fog
All the same
A big Catholic church
A John Deere dealer
A beer hall
And a house or two

Pull another tap
The boys at the bar
Draining it dry
Telling lies
Laughing hard
Before the band stopped playing
And the sun came up
And the girls went home
And Izzy locked the door

I drain my glass dry
And the past dies again
A time we could understand
A time we could feel
Enough time, for you and me
To drink our fill
And maybe die behind the wheel
Or, if we were lucky
To cheat death one more time

Thinking we were so much more
Than we really were
Only we really were
All of that and more

 

©2015 Ron Olsen – all rights reserved