Thursday, October 12, 2017

Thank you so very much to Editor Veronica Bruce of The Paragon Journal-Anapest for publishing
four of my poems over the last few days.  i am honored to be a part of this great publication site!

An Old Dog’s Lament

October 6, 2017

When you left me at the park bench,
I could not see you walk away,
But I knew you were gone
When you no longer spoke to me,
And your scent faded.

I waited all night in the rain,
Refusing sleep so I would not miss your return,
My matted fur and dry mouth
Greeted the sun of that first new day,
My first day without you.

My eyes had failed me the previous year,
And somehow I had failed you,
Although I do not understand how.
Should I ever smell you again,
I will come to you,
And lick your hand,
And ask your forgiveness,
For whatever was lacking in me.

Now I am elsewhere,
Being cared for by another,
I am one of the lucky ones in that regard.
There's new smells in the air,
But always I am searching
For that one ,which to me, is most familiar
And brings the happiest memories.


October 8, 2017

The land of Cowboys and cattlemen,
The land of bankers and Baptists,
The land of bless your heart and there you go:

They say it's the city where JFK was killed, a friend
once told me at NorthPark Mall that her father knew
Jack Ruby back then.
They say it's the land of mortgaged extravagance: Yes, there
you go, I have seen lavish hotels built upon
former ranches.
And they say to me Dallas town itself is quite small: My reply
is there you go, for there are suburbs both rich and poor
that surround it.
And there is both bitter hunger and keen gluttony;
poverty and great wealth, and I match their snide remarks
and say to them:
This is also the town of my youth, the place where the Crossroads
Club and the Dairy Queen gave me solace and refuge.
It's the town of my latter years where my father died, and later
still, those whom I had once been close to fell away from me,
sadly, so there you go. 

Keeper of Nightmares

October 9, 2017

Who is the keeper of nightmares?
Who is the killer of souls?
Blaming that which lies without,
He to whom we say our morning prayers.

If all men at once lay down arms,
Lay down arms instead of bodies,
How would the world change
Instantly if all believe and wield charm.

Instead war is kept as a curse
One from which there is no escape
For to share that much heart
We are only willing to intersperse.

We'll stay the keeper of nightmares,
We'll stay the killer of souls
Blaming that which lies without,
He to whom we glibly throw our cares.


October 10, 2017

A shabby town feigning glamour,
A vapor amid the clamor,
Distractions from sidewise contours
masking that unwholesome smell.

Lurking snake oil salesmen
with unctuous undertaker bent,
switch dark lights to bursting flash, then
ensnare you within the carousel.

Lolita dolls posed on the street,
exteriors seem so sweet
but within, cold hearts that seldom beat,
features masked with colors.

Genial contempt disguised,
smiles that never touch their eyes,
hardset, merciless mouths plied
to take another dollar.

Blazing buildings so compact,
the wrapping maze that so attracts,
leads to where the minotaur’s kept,
purposeful deceit.

Beware the bright yellow brick road,
false idols dot it, we’ve been told,
hidden deep cracks suck your soul
and feed this town’s conceit.

Thank you to Editor Annmarie Lockhart and Managing Editor Nathan Gunter for publishing my poem in Vox Poetica.

Refraction on a Rainy Eve

10.12.17 Posted in today's words by 
Linda Imbler lives and writes in Wichita, Kansas.
Refraction on A Rainy Eve
By Linda Imbler
What you were,And what you are
What I remember,
And what I see,
Not the same reflection.
Sweet goes sour,
Taste no longer desired,
Your leaving,
Neither sweet or sour,
Just hollow fact,
Strangers exact.