Tag Archives: Poetry

Another Lazy Caturday

Posted on June 20, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

   

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but whenever Monday comes…

Posted on June 15, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

Julio Cortàzar h/t Anisa Makhoul LydiaDavis Driving in Iceland is not for the fainthearted. Route 1 north of Hofn in southeastern Iceland passing Eystrahorn Mountain. Charles Bukowski    

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Pin the tail on the devil

Posted on June 5, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

“If My Enemy Is a Clown, a Natural Born Clown” by Ishmael Reed i tore down my thoughts roped in my nightmares remembered a thousand curses made blasphemous vows to demons choked on the blood of hosts ate my hat … Continue reading →

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What happens to a dream deferred

Posted on June 2, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore- And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over- like a syrupy sweet? Maybe … Continue reading →

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Happy Birthday Walt

Posted on May 31, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

 

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When Matter Meets Anti-Matter

Posted on May 29, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

Poem with No Children In It Claire Wahmanholm Instead, the poem is full of competent trees, sturdy and slow-growing. The trees live on a wide clean lawn full of adults. All night, the adults grow older without somersaulting or spinning. … Continue reading →

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Excursions into humor + despair

Posted on May 24, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

The Detroit-based publisher Rotland Press advertises itself as “a fine publisher of excursions into humor + despair.” It is also the perfect vehicle for a literary and arts journal to help us cope with the overwhelming nature of the Covid-19 … Continue reading →

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The Last Word Spoken

Posted on May 6, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

Testimony: 1968 Rita Dove Who comforts you now that the wheel has broken? No more princes for the poor. Loss whittling you thin. Grief is the constant now, hope the last word spoken.In a dance of two elegies, which circles … Continue reading →

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Perhaps the world ends here

Posted on April 21, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

Perhaps the World Ends Here Joy Harjo The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live. The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, … Continue reading →

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In April

Posted on April 10, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

In April Rainer Maria Rilke Again the woods are odorous, the lark Lifts on upsoaring wings the heaven gray That hung above the tree-tops, veiled and dark, Where branches bare disclosed the empty day. After long rainy afternoons an hour … Continue reading →

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