Category Archives: 30 for 30 Poetry Celebration

timed passage go out in the field with that helmeted Go-Pro and press the button, not that little clearing beside the building but the field as wide as it is far, far out look up and stream the dark washed … Continue reading →

Spring Note to viewers: in order to preserve the formatting of this poem, I had to attach it as a PDF. Simply click on the title to read the poem. Robert L. Giron is the founder and publisher of Gival … Continue reading →

A breath of spring you come in the morning from the mantle of night in evergreen tang beckon from my rose window you lead me to the wayside where I inhale sweetness crossing into the present I capture your sighs … Continue reading →

First to Bloom The warm storms of March are cruel, Seeding tulips that bloom a month too soon, Shouting in the shadow of a groundhog, “Is this the beginning or the end?” Are we those primitive flowers? Erupting sun-bound from … Continue reading →

Aquilegia in a variety of colors, its blooms surprisingly easy to grow in dappled shade, partial sun zones 3 to 9, best for show. Until its second season, this biennial will not flower. Letting nature take its course, fall-planted seeds … Continue reading →

Untitled bleak salt billows swell enduring enduring and crash on warming sand © Allison Clapp Fuentes 2015 Allison Clapp Fuentes is an artist of multiple mediums, including theater and performance art, textiles, and music. Her purpose in life is to … Continue reading →

For Gaza: No Monuments (Today, Israel flooded Gaza by  opening its illegally constructed dams with water stolen from Palestine; I also posted this on Oscar night because so many in Hollywood support Israel, and are given “monuments”/Oscars/ tonight for what … Continue reading →

Lady in Crosswalk In pastel she sprouts, stems elongated by her Jimmy Choos. She collects admirers, on-lookers and critics who crave secrets & a change of season— walk a mile in my shoes. She lunges, and then hesitates. A yellow … Continue reading →

Holy Saturday The calendar pauses while mourners plod home Too fatigued to do more than pray. Every turn of the beads scars their hearts Reminding them of the man on the cross, Has Thy will been done? Has Thy kingdom … Continue reading →

Old Wood Rough and gray, Crawled over By a century of bugs and birds Limbs as big as trees, Each worthy of a life of its own. High, in a trunk or a knot, Some ancient crack creaks. It stands … Continue reading →