Table of Contents
The Manciple's Tale Revisited, 2001
by Carla E. Anderton
Poor Phoebus, he should have known
Better than to leave her alone
For the moment that he left
His bride was quite adept
At opening the doors of her cell
The urge to breathe compelled
Her into a maze of the dead
To go where only she led
To only motivation she knew
To go where nothing grew
Poor Phoebus, his greatest fear
That his love might disappear
Governed his every action
And thus, even satisfaction
Would not sate the appetite
Of his precious earthly delight
And, cherish her though he did
Still she yearned to be rid
Of her richly gilded cage
And her inexplicable rage
Copyright 2001 by Carla E. Anderton (PeerAmid98@aol.com).
Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author.
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True North
by Jennifer Gordon Gray
I think of Alaska these hot summer days
as glaciers of sliding sweat creep
down my back, flooding the street.
I have a stand of tall white pines growing
god knows how outside my parlor
here on the rocky (some say cursed) prairie.
They smell like winter, their soft needles
a piece of wilderness, and they help keep
me from missing too much the true north.
And though most would refer to Wisconsin
as the northern climes, I know better,
and better do I know the true boreal.
But I see relief ~ a band of grey clouds racing
east, towards the great lake, and I hope when
work is over I can lift my face to rain, and drench.
The rain, if it falls, will wash away the
rivers of sweat, calm the temperament
and let me think of where I am.
Copyright 2001 by Jennifer Gordon Gray (scotwish@merr.com).
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Why I shouldn't have gone
by Wings
I left you with tears in your eyes
You were sitting in your car
We went to dinner to say goodbye
I'm not sure where our path might have led
But I wish I could know, wherever that path, as long
as it was with you, I could be at peace
I think you were looking for love and
bumped into my heart, I should have been so wise then
I gave my heart to you, but so unschooled in the
matters of such
I gave up, gave in, gave away, the only love I have
known in my life
Years have passed and I carry
Regrets
but in truth I carry you
I have carried you with me
and to the end of my days I will carry
You
In my heart
You are the lighthouse of my soul
You are my first and only love
I shouldn't have gone
Copyright 2001 by Wings (wings4flight@yahoo.com).
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Sinbad's First Voyage
(Cliff's Notes version)
by T. R. Phillips
My friends would admit
my father a great man
with land and many cattle,
and attest how I frittered
it, in his absence, away,
without mentioning their
part in party and feast,
and recount how I therefore
resolved to travel abroad
and trade in foreign lands.
At Basra we put to sea.
We came at length
to what seemed an island
fair as the Garden of Eden.
Last I remember, as we were
exploring, the captain's cry
"Mercy of Allah be upon you this is no island!"
What it was
shook beneath our feet
and sank from the
roaring ocean.
How the water
swallowed that day's
light along with ship and men,
also our entire cargo of hope and
courage, then consumed even sound
of its own swallowing, I alone recall.
Some thing of wood iron-bound snagged my
tunic and dragged me here, to this tiny island,
where waves of dense foliage tumble over the edge
of the water, and First Light blinks through the jasmine.
Copyright 2001 by T. R. Phillips. (tphips2@netscape.net).
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bush league
by Yosh
what if I told you, that if you made me the poet laureate of the united states
that I would give you all some money?
If you are single, you will receive 300 bucks, and if you are married, you will get 600.
would you vote for me?
I promise to not write poems about the environment,
and more on the military,
and less poetry on education.
would you vote for me?
when I write poems to Europe
I will use words they don't understand
and smile and nod a lot.
they will be confused,
but isn't that what European poetry is all about?
I won't use cocaine, or drink and drive.
I promise.
would you vote for me?
Copyright 2000 by Yosh. (Yoshmail@aol.com).
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Letter to the Editor: Cherie Staples (skyearth1@aol.com).