Month: December 2017

Aaron Lantz – Five Poems

It was the beautifully unexpected, the shock of sudden music becoming a reality. This is what life should be filled with (although not filled too full, or its power will fade), and what all art secretly strives for, looks towards, and embodies.

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Sultana Raza – Five Poems

What are the building blocks of the universe? Are they symmetrical, or chaotic? For how long can the material world last if it’s built with streams of chaotic particles? Why is the phi symbol so important to our world? Why do natural forms built with the golden mean incorporated into their structure seem generally pleasing to the human eye?

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Lana Bella – Three Poems

Beauty is getting out of bed every morning in a sun-speckled house smells of bacon, coffee that laces with whisky and a social strategy around my laptop that fends off a fur-shedding dog, busy-fingered children and a wryly pragmatic husband.

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S. Clay Sparkman – Five Poems

We are constantly surrounded by beauty. The challenge is not in finding beautiful objects and conditions. The challenge is in learning to see the beauty in various objects and conditions. It is all a matter of perspective. And this is why poets and artists bring value to our lives.

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Terry Savoie – Four Poems

She said that Beauty “is everlasting/ and dust is for a time.” For me she is referring to the upper case Beauty and not that beauty chased daily by hordes of Americans. How I love Ms. Moore’s ability to cut through so much with so few words.

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Lawdenmarc Decamora – Three Poems

Based on what I saw today on the reflection of tall trees on the river, there’s an Armageddon of swirling things trying to drink the water, their spreading tension the surface of claw-prints and misty roars in silver. I tried to identity them in their uniform art of consciousness—namely: feathery desks, unread papers, dried leaves, money bills, memos, pills and pillows, a falling tear, the image

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Jeanne Althouse – The Empty Road

The bark of a birch, black lines on white with intricate texture and patterns. The canopy of the full-grown oak, leaves sparkling with movement, umbrella-like protection against the weather. The blood red of the fall leaves as the Japanese maple reveals its heart.

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Vera Ignatowitsch – Three Poems

Poetry, for me, is a passionate expression of things we sense, see, know (even if not consciously), in a concentrated form that sounds like a passage of never before heard music. Beauty is fashioned from the melodies and harmonies all around us that we don’t usually listen to or hear, condensed and crystallized into something potent and also elemental.

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Sophie Paulette Jupillat – Three Compositions

Beauty is a whisper that cannot be caught; it is like trying to touch time with your bare hands. It is the universal muse who reveals herself in all Her splendor to anyone whose eyes stray from desolation and darkness. Beauty is made up of all our dreams, all our expectations, all our uniqueness, and all our imaginings of a better world.

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Todd Mercer – Five Poems

Back when my new bride and I were dating, she would respond to the mention of certain fellows by saying, “He’s such a beautiful man.” At first I thought she was uncommonly comfortable praising other men’s appearances. That was incorrect. Sometimes she’d mention a woman, similarly labeling her “A beautiful human being.”

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