Table of Contents
Transformation
for Moonstone
by Richard Denner
Everything is dense and gray
and out of the heaviness emerges a man
of the city who is met by a man of the forest,
a rishi, who sits by a fire, and the city dude
is covered by a winding cloth
Rishi: Come closer to the fire, share the warmth
see it dance, it's alive
Dude: A fire, a real fire? Why, it is a real fire!
(begins to unwrap the winding cloth, more is
removed as the scene proceeds) Reminds me of
when I was a boy
Rishi: Do you believe trees can talk? These
trees gave me the gift of wood and berries, so
I made this tea, so drink, and it will heal you
Dude: Thank you, that's a beautiful gesture,
thank you
Rishi: Thank you, trees
Dude: Do you live here?
Rishi: This is my home
Dude: Well, my house has been built to code,
with art and furniture and a TV, but I'm
so wrapped up in this business (tugs at cloth)
I've lost touch—I know I'm in here, but I can't
seem to feel—don't you miss the comforts?
Rishi: I like things simple
Dude: You don't have any shoes
Rishi: It's warm, I like to touch the earth, the
purple rays come down from heaven, and the red
rays come up through your body, your left leg
brings up the red rays, and your right leg sends
down the purple, a perfect exchange, a massage
in every step, each step is different
Dude: I'll try (takes a few steps)—it's lumpy
Rishi: You'll get used to it
(They dance and sing) Walking on the earth
Walking on the earth
Walking on the earth
We find our way
Copyright 2001 by Richard Denner. rychard@sonic.net).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Go to the Top of the Page.
"No. We didn't have one of those"
by Ronald Haun
Your letter reads like the soft, smooth palm
of a beautiful woman accepting my hand,
like her sweet lips gently caressing my brow.
Words from your heart flow outward to me
as the whispers of a fairy to a little boy.
I would not hurt you for all the world
yet every word I write is as an arrow to your heart.
Knowing this, you'd think I'd stop.
But I seem unable to release the bow.
You said, "No we didn't have one of those,"
normal relationships so easily forgotten,
talked out, glossed over and explained.
We cannot be explained, even to ourselves.
You listened to me when no one else would.
I spoke words to you no one else could.
No one else ever saw what I saw.
I saw more than even you knew.
"No. We didn't have one of those."
Copyright 2001 by Ronald Haun (Ronalot@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Go to the Top of the Page.
Blue Eyes
by Amanda Nassif
Cool waves crashing blending with the sandy shore.
the smooth clear day leaves no place for interruption,
memorable clean colours that circle themselves around
centers
growing and shrinking to the gift of sight.
That sharpness tingles all over,
laughter in folds of your lids, charming doors.
And in the plump wet grace of your lips,
the same summer taste glancing out of your eyes.
Leaves run down along the concrete pavement,
playing swiftly around each other.
The wind as their angels push them forward
into the first autumn days,
and you to have joined them to play.
Copyright 2001 by Amanda Nassif. (amandern@yahoo.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Go to the Top of the Page.
Big Dam Foolishness
by Brice Metzger
Dam up a small stream - local ecology changes, but no one dies;
Nature on this small scale quickly recoups - so say those science-wise.
Big dam foolishness - a logion of the fifties, now out of style
but are back at it again - at Aswan, have finally dammed up the Nile;
in just a few decades, its banks and Delta will become infertile ground
have forgotten those lessons that big dams early taught - again thought
unsound.
Now they're at the Huang He River in China
simply to gather money, for those in power there;
yet this vast region is replete, with many earthquakes
among millions of people, deprived of learning's care.
A dam big enough to effect half a continent
despite its impounded water's weight on stress-load;
in time, far greater damages will then impact
from those fragile tectonics with weight's further goad.
Science eventually gets it right - for its prey is elusive truth;
but greed, eventually twists truth tight, to acquire but power - in
routh.
Copyright 2001 by Brice Metzger. (bricepoems@ecr.net).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
Visit Brice's poetry page at bricepoems
Go to the Top of the Page.
Letter to the Editor: Cherie Staples (skyearth1@aol.com).