Thank you so very much to Dr. Rachna Singh 

of The Wise Owl for publishing my work in the 

October issue.

https://www.thewiseowl.art/linda-imbler

Uns

locking 

 

Thank you to the editors at Mad Swirl for publishing my poem, "Crossroads."

Photo courtesy of Thomas Reisner, published in Mad Swirl

CrossRoads by Linda Imbler

When Saturday night bands
seeded the air with song,
and the groovy people gathered
to rap, to trip the light fantastic,
The CrossRoads brought dreams
into the light,
beyond strobes.
People mottled by summer sun
prayed
the phrase book of God,
and didn’t mind
where anyone had started from.
A new family conceived
on the dance floor.

September 17, 2026

editors note: Wherever two or more are gathered together… – mh clay

A HUGE THANK YOU TO THE TALENTED TIM SANDERS FOR PUTTING MY POEM "CIRCADIA" TO MUSIC AND VIDEO.  PLEASE ENJOY THIS REMARKABLE PIECE OF WORK.  I LOVE COLLABORATING WITH TIM!!

https://www.facebook.com/watch/?ref=saved&v=1572797011057353

 

Thank you to Editor Sand Pilarski of Piker Press for publishing my poem today.

                                                                   

                                                                         Oh, Snap!

She thinks she’s one of the piquants,
but in reality,
she’s just a tenderfoot at wit,
always mining for pageantry and ballyhoo.
She’s a self-proclaimed hotdog of the educated,
with more than a drip of the fatuous and silly.

In her own mind,
she’s no caboodle of careless shenanigans,
she’s a collage of impressive handwoven 
and tangled farces.

More’s the pity 
that this ignorant dingbat,
continuously manifests a wince in the rest of us.

 

NOW LIVE!  AT AMAZON IN PAPERBACK ($6.00) OR KINDLE ($3.00) VERSIONS.

Thoughts Pondered In This Book:

The bravery of mapping your dreams in defiance of taking breaths of poisoned air.

The spirit to stand free countering the disquietude of constriction.

The valor of repurposing your life to keep your dreams from fading.

The courage to sweep out old concerns using a new broom.

A resolve for continued new learning standing against the pins and needles of ignorance.

The pages of our lives, standing the test of time, even though silver steel may tarnish.

                                        Paperback

Kindle

 

Thank you very much to Editor Barbara Leonhard for publishing my poem today.

https://feedthehol.blogspot.com/2026/07/two-different-versions-by-linda-imbler.html

Photo by Brett Sayles

Two Different Versions

Why is it always so beautiful,

the day after?

Soft, dreamy blue skies,

wispy clouds that linger,

but do not cover the sun,

long grass greener than something

perfected in the Emerald City?

Why is it always so ugly,

the day after?

Harsh azure overhead

that burns the eyes,

grass that feels like sharp glass on bare feet,

clouds that look like they 

could choke you with their coils.

People passing by with happy demeanors

that give you hope that one day you will again

be one of them,

if just given time.

People passing by with smiles and laughter 

that seems arrogant and mocking.

Do they not know 

what has happened to you?

AC-DC, high and low,

I’m okay, I’m not okay,

I’m okay, I’m not okay,

I’m okay,

I’m not okay.

 

GOING LIVE THE WEEK OF JULY 6-10 IN PAPERBACK AND KINDLE VERSIONS,

 

THREE OF MY POEMS IN HERE

 

AVAILABLE AT AMAZON

There’s much to be experienced in a year’s time; much to be thought, much to be learned and taught, much to be felt, much to be imagined, and much to be remembered.

Our bodies work as systems that store thoughts, emotions, and dreams. And, as a result, we fear the insurmountable, celebrate triumphs, cherish memories of good times, and dislike the unpleasant.

This is my stroll through one great 365. It is a diary of sorts; of ideas, sentiments, and fancies.

And, although within these pages are the images of only one writer, each reader will find relatable notions to examine within their own physiology.

 

A big thank you to Editor Glory Sasikala of GloMag for 

publishing my poem in the July issue.

Norris

Apocryphal events

using his abilities

entertained us for years.

In the extensive field of martial arts,

he stood as a metro committee of one.

Equally true,

he carried the mojo of the masters,

crowds celebrating what he radiated,

his muscles ready to spring.

Crooks carrying lawless power

would be alarming.

They could and must be taken out.

Angry plundering,

to that he put an end.

The news at daybreak

fell hard.

He’d shown us how to bring justice,

his final lesson,

how to lament.

Thoughts in Saffron

The crown of the sun king,

regal austerity sent our way bearing heat and light.

Amber perceived shine within drips of rain

reflects glory upon cowslips and corn.

Whiffs of sulphur 

set off cautionary alarms

from which we will distance ourselves.

The bouquet of nectar,

and honey’s candied scent,  

embodied as bumblebee beacons.

Precious coins earned, 

a living wage,

gentles later golden years.

Upon the yellow brick road,

yellow taxis helmed by drivers 

with flaxen topped heads,  

follow our directions

toward the brass ring

holding our best choices.

Indignation About Your Body Politic

Empires dissolve as loyalties turn,

kingdoms reduced to drab and joyless,

the vague and soulless

filling any vacant throne.

It may be a shock,

but theres a well-hidden pitfall

that always follows the same pattern,

that of the premeditated snub

after the mold breaks.

It remakes with a changed shape,

and you feel the rebuff

when you are no longer the newest,

the best, the most desired,

when there’s an utter failure 

of your kinsmen to crown you.

All your psychological mumblings lack complexity;

they only suggest revolting comparisons,

from the cheap and ordinary to what’s producing the most appeal.

You feel your lofty ambitions surpass the ordinary,

but they only provide dogmatic aggravation

to those with whom you are in contact.     

You, standing alone, now a mere foolish ornament.

I hope when we meet again

you will have found a happy way forward.