The Diamond Sky

July 31, 2021  :: 0 comments

I saw her again today, following me. As I turned right on the corner, from a left-side glance, I saw the shiny blue of her shirt. First, she waited a few beats, hoping I wouldn’t notice, then continued slyly walking. Why is she following me? What does she want? She’s been following me for years now. I didn’t feel threatened …

Twenty Twenty One

featured in the poetry forum December 30, 2020  :: 0 comments

2020 burned with flashing ambulances and police lights.

The system’s false cradle, kicked over and exposed
Showing its fleshy underbelly.
With death and suffering all around us, we cried.
We lost so many people.
But 2020 was only the wake-up call.
And yes, 2021 is around the bend. I can see it from here.
Let’s remember our vow: all people are created equal.
With our souls saved somewhat, perhaps we will not further poison the soil, too.
We can learn to care for the Earth, the sky, the trees, our animal brothers, and sisters.
Honoring all their equal status as non-persons.
Will we say we are ALL the Earth?
We are all ONE!
Our chance begins in 2021.
The choice is up to us.

editors note:

Here’s our New Year’s invocation for some positive visitation. – mh clay

Death Before Beauty

August 1, 2020  :: 0 comments

“You dream of me less these days,” my father says. Even in my dream, I feel guilty, like I did when he was alive. He would say, “You don’t call no more?” even when we’d talked earlier that week. I try to hide my shame, but he can see through it. I am dreaming. My mind is wide open. “I …

The day the vaccine was discovered

featured in the poetry forum May 16, 2020  :: 0 comments

The day the vaccine was discovered
They gathered in parks.
They marched in parades.
They sang songs.
The world would return to normal, they dreamed.
Then only the very rich got the vaccine.
Then only the celebrities and congress.
The vaccine is available to anyone who needs it, it was said.
To get it, you had to prove you had never had COVID.
Which meant you had to have had a test.
Which not enough people had.
Which not enough people could get;
To get the vaccine, you needed to have insurance.
But not all insurances covered the vaccine.
And due to demand
The cost was very high.
Which meant that not enough people could get it.
Then the parades turned into protest marches.
With guns.
Then many turned against each other.
Those who wore masks and those who didn’t.
Those who were tested and those who weren’t.
Those who had the presidential vaccine stamp on their arms
And those who didn’t.
The day the vaccine was discovered
Was like pulling on the string that held things together.

editors note:

Poetry? Or, prophecy? Oof! (Read something with a lighter touch from Mike on his page. Check it out!) – mh clay

Lamentations of Scottie

May 16, 2020  :: 0 comments

Scottie’s Log, 2550:

We appear to be stranded somewhere in the Vega system.
3 suns and boy it is hot.
Course, Kirk has had his shirt off since we landed on this damned planet, prancing around in his nylon Speedos.
He is always on the prowl – even now.
I messed around with the Dilithium Crystal configs and blew the life support system, so everyone is pissed at me.
The captain especially.
They forget the time I pulled us off Tantalus before its 2 suns simultaneously exploded.
Or the million times I’ve warp sped away from enemy pursuit.
No one notices me until something goes wrong.
Maybe Kirk is getting newly laid every week, smooching with every pretty yeoman that gets beamed aboard; not me.
New planets, new women for the captain.
I’m not sure if I’m mad because I’m jealous or because he’s a bastard.
But I do love him – loved him since we met at the academy.
Will I die out here in space? So far from my home – away from everything I have ever known – green hills, rocky cliffs, Mary MacDuff’s blue eyes.
Must I go on?
Can I bear this heavy load alone?
Too much time by myself in the basement of the Enterprise.
Too much time waiting for something to go wrong.
Too much time.
When will the luck go my way?
Back to the pickle I have got us in; as soon we’re off again, I’ll be off the hook – until next time.

editors note:

Glad to know we’ll have a Scottie to help us out in 2550 (Speedos, too). – mh clay

Calling Vito a Guido

October 5, 2019  :: 0 comments

Having tied his Capezio shoes, Vito brushes his white slacks and gets up from the chair. He walks over to the mirror in the living room to brush his black hair — again. He tilts his head to one side, looks at himself from the corner of his eye and runs the brush across his coal black mass of hair. …

Swollen Seconds

featured in the poetry forum April 30, 2019  :: 0 comments

Glorious organ and cheering horns
Swarms of birds
Rushing the cushioned clouds.
And there is you.
Your yellow eyes melting.
Yesterday’s crying on your face.
Fallen seconds trickle down your
Swollen cheeks.
The weeks worn
Around your neck
Like broken diamonds.
Tonight is still.
The moon eclipsed.
The stars unfixed and the lighted
Sky dims.
Look! A hush inks the darkness
Even Darker.

editors note:

A hush to comfort, a breast to rest. – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum February 11, 2019  :: 0 comments

Reaches down into
Itself.  Where demons mingle.
Knotted roots signal battle.
The blackened soil, a hollow
For unseen wars. Muted screams stored into
Silence.  The roots coil back,
Like harrowed victims chased home. Once inside
The dark terror subsides and they can rest. Tomorrow, as leaves,
They sing in the sun, their flapping kisses the pearly air.
Where angels cushion
The light

editors note:

Where birds of feather flock, not scatter; fight fears, threats shatter. – mh clay

Hanging by a Thread

February 9, 2019  :: 0 comments

I was a high school teacher before they came. I’m not sure what I am now. They said they chose me because they needed cases to test. To make sure their experiments worked. Now I feel more like a Wax Museum custodian than anything else. What I most recall is that it was a very regular night. Even the light …

The Silence of Slow Time

September 29, 2018  :: 0 comments

He is crouching on the grass behind a bush, out of wind. Only a few feet away he hears the growling of a tiger. He holds his breath until his lungs almost burst, cautiously letting the air seep out of his lungs. The tiger lingers, but then seems to stroll away. It doesn’t matter what we call this being. He …