Take 5ive Issue Three Twenty Twenty One
Steve Black
awoken
by a siren
and a blood red sky
at the end of my road
the end of the world
we would sit
in silence for hours
watching the game
even upon the final whistle
the words never came
daily death count
sugar with everything
my mother
cuts me another slice
of homemade apple pie
swimming
beyond the surf
navigating
the plastic
other people's lives
happy hour
outside in the street
the preacher
preaches
from revelation
Bryan Rickert
the morning
after his death
the audacity
of a pink
sunrise
another
day of rain
still
this drought
between us
another
autumn together
I fall in love
with your first
grey hair
watching
the current take leaves
downstream
I think of all the ways
to start letting you go
out a back door
of the cheap motel
little soap bars
and cigarette butts
in states of decay
David He
an old monk
lights incence
in the yard burner...
his prayer ribbons
towards the moon
my grandson
captures in his palm
the light
of nightfall . . .
osmanthus fragrance
we walk
by a maple tree
with the leaves rustling
who remembers
the old songs?
Roberta Beach Jacobson
ocean
dressed in waves of blue
fitting day
for my mother-of-the-bride dress
for an autumn beach wedding
major
medical scare for me
I reconnect
to the beauty of Mother Nature
appreciating the shapes of trees
lunch
with a group of friends
all
the empty tables and booths
where we aren't sitting
Sherry Grant
Struggle
transition
from three to five
I struggle
in a life defined
by nine to five
In Dreams
in dreams
you come to me
bringing tears
I continue to wait
even in waking hours
Take Five
kept
on my toes
take five
I try to balance
three with two
C.X. Turner
walking in nature
seeds helicopter
in the church graveyard
reminds me we're
all visitors here
the smell of the sea
curve of a sand dune
two glasses of wine
my heart and the moon
both are full
he discovers magic
her firefly heart
together with the moon
they write a poem
decorate the night sky
Chen-ou Liu
three of us
in this ten-year-old marriage,
a little crowded ...
streaks of winter rain flow
down our bedroom window
alone at twilight
on the edge
of a winter river
I stare into the world
beyond this floating life
(for Virginia Woolf)
her loving gaze
fills a hole in my heart ...
yet once again
the light of dawn wakes me
to emptiness
in the schoolyard
a spiral tube slide --
with no one around
I slip down
to lonely childhood
Michael Dylan Welch
first date--
my heart quivering
on the surgeon's metal tray,
the scalpel of nervous words
too sharp, too pointed
wet from something--
on the stairs
I hold
my little girl's hand
anyway
These words I write
Are all I can muster--
Not a love poem, more
Knowledge than personal feeling,
Asking your forgiveness
Ram Chandran
gardening scissors-
I cut
my
problems
to size
sailing
thousands of miles
oh clouds
take me
along with you
parched
my heart, even in these
monsoon times...
my unsung songs
the rain washes away
Mirela Brăilean
each time I add
the olives in the salad
I do remember
my first kiss
on a greek island
Kathleen Vasek Trocmet
JABBING PAINT
jabbing paint
at the canvas
I pierce its heart
until there is
nothing left
A LIFETIME
a lifetime
playing in the dirt . . .
a garden of
forget-me-nots
and bird song
MY BROKEN HEART
my broken heart
healed . . .
by my death bed
I see you
smiling at me
Hassane Zemmouri
picking season-
the full basket doesn't accommodate
the girl's joy
her smile more delicious
than the expected jam
Remzi Gülsün
the old ballerina
is dancing elegantly
to the swan lake
and then diving into
her deep solitude
Marilyn Humbert
unearthing
family tree records
my ancestors
first fleet convicts,
troopers and bush rangers
almost summer
the sun shines brighter
in a bluer sky …
yet new covid infections
continue to rise
sudden wind
rattles our may bush
the backyard
covered in petal-snow
and children’s laughter
Tim Gardiner
terracotta
warrior
you can’t buy
that kind of loyalty
these days
starry sky
mother says it’s black
I say
it’s full
of dying suns
Remembrance Day
in a nursing home
father doesn't
recognise
me
Mona Bedi
I look
into the mirror
I see a woman
who is so different from
who I once was
lonely night
I sit on the terrace
star gazing
looking out for the one
that twinkles just for me
anniversary date
I order my third wine
waiting for
the man I married
to walk in through the door
summer rain
I step out for a dance
the falling drops
cling to me in a way
like no one ever has
daybreak
I talk to the new flower
in my garden
for no one should be
deprived of maternal love
Lakshmi Iyer
getting up
from my dreams
I pick up
the fallen white sparkles
the scented parijat
so what
if can't reach the sky
I will be
in the lap of the night
when I move on
Joe Sebastian
mom's photo
a bookmark
holding its peace
in a book she would have
never let me read
fancy degrees
in rosewood frames ...
unwell, the tycoon
stares vacantly
through them into nothingness
a dark cloud
streaks the moon
i can read her mind
it's perhaps been forgiven
but not forgotten
George Schaefer
quiet beer
gently quaffed at brewpub
till disruption
both girlfriends texting
messaging at same time
Chain link fence
it holds us hostage
prisoner of our own device
perpetually seeking freedom
never seeing the unlocked gate
Dave Read
he leaves school with friends
but doesn’t say where…
we map out
the route
of our worry
we make plans
to visit
with family outside…
the sunlight that peeks
through the clouds
the boy who continues
to argue for freedom
asks
for a lift
to the gym
the first snow of autumn
has already melted…
she tempers
her feedback
with warmth
COVID continues:
we skip Halloween…
I peek
at the ghosts
of our past
Joy McCall
I dream
of harvesting
in hemp fields
with field mice
running at my feet
it is the time
for pine winds to blow
leaves to fall
squirrels to bury nuts
for winter food
where can we shelter
our fragile dreams?
in tree root and leaf piles
in shoreline rock pools
and waving kelp beds
heavy rain
puddles on the path
a field mouse
and a hedge sparrow
come to drink
the evening sun
through the dark boughs
of the old yew tree
in the graveyard,
sings of light and life
Lisbeth Ho
autumn roses
colour the Covid days
as their
rainbow petals
dance in the breeze
lemon blossoms
look the same from
my isolation windows
as the days go by
I count my blessings
John Grey
THE CELLO
despondent vibrato
disconsolate harmonics
even in a quartet
the cello still plays
lonely
FEBRUARY SUNSET
retreating cobalt,
faintly red and yellow,
on the surface of snow -
twilight’s palette dims
shadows begin to finger-paint
Christina Chin
garden breakfast
the crested goshawk
captures a mouse
the urban crow
squawks for crumbs
sprinkler water
circles the pergola
a yellow striped bee
disappears
reappears
John J. Dunphy
1 a.m. closing time
a bar's patrons
stagger down the street
to a bar that closes
at 2
the politician’s smiling face
his campaign sign
attached to the door
of the porta-potty at
the homeless encampment
I hold the door
for mom
at the funeral home
as she leaves
in her coffin
awoken
by a siren
and a blood red sky
at the end of my road
the end of the world
we would sit
in silence for hours
watching the game
even upon the final whistle
the words never came
daily death count
sugar with everything
my mother
cuts me another slice
of homemade apple pie
swimming
beyond the surf
navigating
the plastic
other people's lives
happy hour
outside in the street
the preacher
preaches
from revelation
Bryan Rickert
the morning
after his death
the audacity
of a pink
sunrise
another
day of rain
still
this drought
between us
another
autumn together
I fall in love
with your first
grey hair
watching
the current take leaves
downstream
I think of all the ways
to start letting you go
out a back door
of the cheap motel
little soap bars
and cigarette butts
in states of decay
David He
an old monk
lights incence
in the yard burner...
his prayer ribbons
towards the moon
my grandson
captures in his palm
the light
of nightfall . . .
osmanthus fragrance
we walk
by a maple tree
with the leaves rustling
who remembers
the old songs?
Roberta Beach Jacobson
ocean
dressed in waves of blue
fitting day
for my mother-of-the-bride dress
for an autumn beach wedding
major
medical scare for me
I reconnect
to the beauty of Mother Nature
appreciating the shapes of trees
lunch
with a group of friends
all
the empty tables and booths
where we aren't sitting
Sherry Grant
Struggle
transition
from three to five
I struggle
in a life defined
by nine to five
In Dreams
in dreams
you come to me
bringing tears
I continue to wait
even in waking hours
Take Five
kept
on my toes
take five
I try to balance
three with two
C.X. Turner
walking in nature
seeds helicopter
in the church graveyard
reminds me we're
all visitors here
the smell of the sea
curve of a sand dune
two glasses of wine
my heart and the moon
both are full
he discovers magic
her firefly heart
together with the moon
they write a poem
decorate the night sky
Chen-ou Liu
three of us
in this ten-year-old marriage,
a little crowded ...
streaks of winter rain flow
down our bedroom window
alone at twilight
on the edge
of a winter river
I stare into the world
beyond this floating life
(for Virginia Woolf)
her loving gaze
fills a hole in my heart ...
yet once again
the light of dawn wakes me
to emptiness
in the schoolyard
a spiral tube slide --
with no one around
I slip down
to lonely childhood
Michael Dylan Welch
first date--
my heart quivering
on the surgeon's metal tray,
the scalpel of nervous words
too sharp, too pointed
wet from something--
on the stairs
I hold
my little girl's hand
anyway
These words I write
Are all I can muster--
Not a love poem, more
Knowledge than personal feeling,
Asking your forgiveness
Ram Chandran
gardening scissors-
I cut
my
problems
to size
sailing
thousands of miles
oh clouds
take me
along with you
parched
my heart, even in these
monsoon times...
my unsung songs
the rain washes away
Mirela Brăilean
each time I add
the olives in the salad
I do remember
my first kiss
on a greek island
Kathleen Vasek Trocmet
JABBING PAINT
jabbing paint
at the canvas
I pierce its heart
until there is
nothing left
A LIFETIME
a lifetime
playing in the dirt . . .
a garden of
forget-me-nots
and bird song
MY BROKEN HEART
my broken heart
healed . . .
by my death bed
I see you
smiling at me
Hassane Zemmouri
picking season-
the full basket doesn't accommodate
the girl's joy
her smile more delicious
than the expected jam
Remzi Gülsün
the old ballerina
is dancing elegantly
to the swan lake
and then diving into
her deep solitude
Marilyn Humbert
unearthing
family tree records
my ancestors
first fleet convicts,
troopers and bush rangers
almost summer
the sun shines brighter
in a bluer sky …
yet new covid infections
continue to rise
sudden wind
rattles our may bush
the backyard
covered in petal-snow
and children’s laughter
Tim Gardiner
terracotta
warrior
you can’t buy
that kind of loyalty
these days
starry sky
mother says it’s black
I say
it’s full
of dying suns
Remembrance Day
in a nursing home
father doesn't
recognise
me
Mona Bedi
I look
into the mirror
I see a woman
who is so different from
who I once was
lonely night
I sit on the terrace
star gazing
looking out for the one
that twinkles just for me
anniversary date
I order my third wine
waiting for
the man I married
to walk in through the door
summer rain
I step out for a dance
the falling drops
cling to me in a way
like no one ever has
daybreak
I talk to the new flower
in my garden
for no one should be
deprived of maternal love
Lakshmi Iyer
getting up
from my dreams
I pick up
the fallen white sparkles
the scented parijat
so what
if can't reach the sky
I will be
in the lap of the night
when I move on
Joe Sebastian
mom's photo
a bookmark
holding its peace
in a book she would have
never let me read
fancy degrees
in rosewood frames ...
unwell, the tycoon
stares vacantly
through them into nothingness
a dark cloud
streaks the moon
i can read her mind
it's perhaps been forgiven
but not forgotten
George Schaefer
quiet beer
gently quaffed at brewpub
till disruption
both girlfriends texting
messaging at same time
Chain link fence
it holds us hostage
prisoner of our own device
perpetually seeking freedom
never seeing the unlocked gate
Dave Read
he leaves school with friends
but doesn’t say where…
we map out
the route
of our worry
we make plans
to visit
with family outside…
the sunlight that peeks
through the clouds
the boy who continues
to argue for freedom
asks
for a lift
to the gym
the first snow of autumn
has already melted…
she tempers
her feedback
with warmth
COVID continues:
we skip Halloween…
I peek
at the ghosts
of our past
Joy McCall
I dream
of harvesting
in hemp fields
with field mice
running at my feet
it is the time
for pine winds to blow
leaves to fall
squirrels to bury nuts
for winter food
where can we shelter
our fragile dreams?
in tree root and leaf piles
in shoreline rock pools
and waving kelp beds
heavy rain
puddles on the path
a field mouse
and a hedge sparrow
come to drink
the evening sun
through the dark boughs
of the old yew tree
in the graveyard,
sings of light and life
Lisbeth Ho
autumn roses
colour the Covid days
as their
rainbow petals
dance in the breeze
lemon blossoms
look the same from
my isolation windows
as the days go by
I count my blessings
John Grey
THE CELLO
despondent vibrato
disconsolate harmonics
even in a quartet
the cello still plays
lonely
FEBRUARY SUNSET
retreating cobalt,
faintly red and yellow,
on the surface of snow -
twilight’s palette dims
shadows begin to finger-paint
Christina Chin
garden breakfast
the crested goshawk
captures a mouse
the urban crow
squawks for crumbs
sprinkler water
circles the pergola
a yellow striped bee
disappears
reappears
John J. Dunphy
1 a.m. closing time
a bar's patrons
stagger down the street
to a bar that closes
at 2
the politician’s smiling face
his campaign sign
attached to the door
of the porta-potty at
the homeless encampment
I hold the door
for mom
at the funeral home
as she leaves
in her coffin
