Thank you to Nilavro Nill Shoovro for publishing this poem in the May issue of Our Poetry Archive (OPA.)

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2020/05/linda-imbler.html

Gambler’s Choice:  

Odds, Seven To Ten

Well within this century

People gamble cleverly

Employing all their energy

Depleting their own treasury

While placing themselves in jeopardy

Their touch on the real world feathery

They forget one rule elementary

Debtors can’t live their lives exemplary

Thank you to Nilavro Nill Shoovro for publishing this poem in the May issue of Our Poetry Archive (OPA.)

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2020/05/linda-imbler.html

Can And Can’t (Love You)

A very long chain of challenges won,

With effortless grace you open the door,

No aspect of you would I choose to shun.

But hate takes hold as you pay an old score,

You’re now sin-stained by what you’ve done,

The result? I can’t love you anymore.

Thank you to Nilavro Nill Shoovro for publishing this poem in the May issue of Our Poetry Archive (OPA.)

https://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2020/05/linda-imbler.html

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

The sun will die neither by asteroid nor man,

but by burning away of its sparkling shimmer.

Tragically, Icarus fell from the upper levels of the stratosphere,

as intense heat burned his wings and sent him plummeting.

Not all that glitters is gold, nor is it so dangerous;

such as the twinkle is a man’s eye when he sees his girl.

The gleam of stars which we can buy, and name, and dream upon,

or the glint of a sincere and friendly smile from an advancing friend.

The luster of newly shampooed hair.

The flickering of candlelight within the deepest dark.

The dazzle of diamonds and the shimmer of a rainbow.

The sparkle of a clear, clean lake on a calm day.

Yes, not all that glitters is gold,

but are these things not just as precious?

Thank you to the editors of Trouvaille Review for publishing this poem today.

https://www.trouvaillereview.org/home/hunting-in-packs-by-linda-imbler

Hunting In Packs by Linda Imbler

During winter

darkness hides Heaven.

Once-white clouds

spread like a thick duvet.

The empty park,

seen from my window,

the sky above

as gray as river stones worn smooth.

From out of the gloom,

the dogs came,

with matted fur, 

coiled tight as dangerous serpents.

Canines, full of pep and bark,

paws worn down,

flat as a wooden floor.

Ears perked,

eyes still shining,

heads moving side to side.

Each one heard

their master’s call

on that dreary day.

They’re working to find

their way back

to what they

loved most.

Each dog dreams

of its own home,

even while in a pack.

The whole keeping their swift pace, 

as each hunts for that special place.

Thank you to the editors at Trouvaille Review for publishing my poem today.


https://www.trouvaillereview.org/home/no-mad-sorrow-by-linda-imbler

No Mad Sorrow by Linda Imbler

Inside all darkness,

and with ecstatic epiphany,

we hear the thoughts

of the out-of-breath departed,

who lost their song editor

(songs that have gone silent)

when they climbed over cemetery walls.

Because of their inbred chitchat,

we no longer fear these cold voyagers,

but will from now on just call them dead.

This bricked up group,

inside mausoleums’ tall boundaries.

Their handsome aplomb,

their ascetic outlook

developed through their enlightened 

passages of discovery.

In death, they feel no mad sorrow,

for they know that

to become something other than 

what they were 

is to finally be lifted by the waiting breeze.

Thank you to Glory Sasikala of Glo Mag for publishing Monkee Music in the April issue.

https://view.joomag.com/glomag-glomagapril2020/0996534001587827105?short

The third of three translated poems into Sequoyah-Cherokee by the talented and artistic Mysti Milwee.

Thank you to Quail Bell Magazine for publishing my poem today.

http://www.quailbellmagazine.com/the-unreal-20/poetry-if-only-for-modestys-sake-by-linda-imbler

If Only For Modesty’s Sake

I am undeserving of the sky.

My wings have followed

the history of Icarus.

I was so much like him.

My flight would always be noteworthy.

But, now I walk where green or golden foliage,

and assortments of rocks

litter the land

which tremble under dragons’ strides.

I wish for new magick,

an alchemy transmuting

those rocks and leaves into feathers.

For Icarus was not wrong,

just arrogant,

and if I fly with modesty.

I just might stay airborne.

The second of three poems to be translated into Sequoyah-Cherokee by the talented and artistic Mysti Milwee.

The first of three poems translated into Sequoyah-Cherokee by the talented and artistic Mysti Milwee.

Thank you to Credo Espoir for allowing me to describe my creative process for my poems they published.



https://credoespoir.wordpress.com/2020/04/17/before-the-sand-stops/

Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi of Ariel Chart for publishing my poem today.


https://www.arielchart.com/2020/04/wisdom-under-sea.html

HomePoetryWisdom Under The Sea

Wisdom Under The Sea

Mark Sy PaulApril 15, 2020

 

Wisdom Under The Sea


Not all creatures need to climb to 
mountaintops to gain wisdom.

We can find plenty of sagacity under the sea.

There are many mechanics 
and engineers there,
dispelling the myth of that place
as a repository for submissive simpletons.

Stingrays use their bodies
to flush out food trapped between plants,
creating a delightful snowstorm
of delicacies for their palates.

Sea wrasses employ rocks as anvils
to crack open clams,
with flavored contentment ensuing.

Sea otters exploit rocks to get at 
various abalones,
mother-of-pearl goodies and treats.

Octopuses gather coconut shells to create shelter,
and, they can open jars 
with indeterminate rapidity.

The dolphin’s need to play 
is highly developed,
and they utilize balls and rings
as tools for amusement.
They also use sponges to protect their beaks
while they forage.

Sea urchins gather items to function as umbrellas
to keep them out of the sun,
having learned that trick
from centuries of observing
instructive clouds.

Let the tempestuous sea and its creatures be our ashram.

Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi for publishing my poem in Ariel Chart.

https://www.arielchart.com/2020/04/wheres-redemption.html







Where’s Redemption?


I am my own project,

tunefully composing my theme song,

using my own thoughts, voice, and soul.

There’s no mistaking

my well-orchestrated, stable grounding,

except by those who are tone deaf.

I have memories of promises sung to me,

then broken - nails on a chalkboard.

The cheaters have accused me,

chiming about my lively past exaggerated.

Liars have accused me,

vocalized about my escapades that never happened.

The insecure want me in their choir,

but they refuse to press the pin

that loosens the spring latch of the music box,

and release benevolence.

But I don’t choose to harbor resentment.

I only wait for considerate mention of me.

And at the end of the all those songs comes payment,

and mine shall be exoneration.

Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi of Ariel Chart for publishing my poem in the April issue.

https://www.arielchart.com/2020/04/flaws.html








Flaws


Think only good of me.

Forgive the cruel pangs I caused

by my lack of understanding

that one good word costs

no more than one that’s bad.


Pardon my plans never completed.

I had big dreams at times, but then…..

Excuse all the times I was loopy while waking,

when getting up was like crawling out of quicksand.


Let go of the fact

that sometimes I drank too much,

and when I did,

I used my drunken mouth to reveal secrets.


Overlook the predictably exasperating

part of me that seldom told a story

in a linear fashion.


Absolve me for my part 

in the times I lied, the times I should have lied,

not saying what I should have said either time.

Or,

my own singular condemnation of liars,

shouted in my personal dramatic fashion.


Disregard my worrying

far more than merited.


And finally, 

exempt me from the shame

of not realizing

how truly beautiful you were.