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November 24th Poems


Scars are everywhere

Thank goodness bodies don’t last

Our souls are perfect


Isabell VanMerlin



How high is up?

Is there a way to measure

the endless?

Why is the sky blue?

Forget the fancy explanations

of light’s spectrum and refraction.

Consider  more  exotic possibilities

that defy science, like earth circling

carpets of blue butterflies.

If the earth is round,

then why doesn’t my marble roll?

The world surely acts flat to my experience.

Perhaps I can devise that

bike ride that is downhill

in both directions.

Why stop here?

Consider how the clouds are

pushed like cotton into many shapes.

When I look out from a plane,

I am sure I could walk barefoot

on that soft layer,

but they just won’t stop the plane

to let me try.

Think of the Sun and its constant

repetition.  Will it ever tire.

How about your song,

the one that carries

your soul on wings?

Will you sing it loudly

or ever let it out?

How about your heart,

can you open the door,

or have you ever tried?

Oh, so many possibilities.


Paul Redstone


The Rough Draft


The life with question marks asks

The boiling ambition in red and white

Blood cells under the millimeter thin

Brown skin about its goals and meanings.


The color-blind ambition continues to percolate

Smoothing rough edges in search of a window

For the soul to look for curls of music.


Too rough to be fitted into an ever changing

Form now, but the time always has time to wait

For the square to be whittled down to fit

Into a round hole.


Have you ever asked why the square

Peg has to fit into a round hole?

Ask the good earth where the square peg should go…


The breeze plays bare branches like curls of musical

Notations; up and down the scales, pausing to rest

And music goes on even after the percolating crescendo.


See if there is any difference in the color of blood cells

And reconsider before asking the goals and meanings

Of life based on the skin-deep value judgement of color

That includes a rough draft of any color.



Yenna Yi


A Haiku 

Luminous jade plate
full moon amid bright stars
lantern for the lost
– Rose Olivet

To Ocean Vuong on Logo Phobia


You are changing

your voice


from the fear

of those blurred


bones, to your entry

into your stronger life


a   winged flight

from that bullet


that rests now in words

turned clear


and takes away fear


giving you the power

to find a new voice


phobia over come


words that fill your poems



the magic of the light

of your red dark.


Phyllis Katz