Blue, White, & Red | by Montavis Mooring

Her legs stretched wide open

And the devil’s poison spilled from between.

Tired and worn out was her heart.

 

His lust keeps licking away at those bones

Whenever the dollars are shown

And when the ally isn’t as dark.

 

She has been placed in Hell’s pawn shop,

On the top shelf, next to the many masks

that Mayors, Governors and Presidents wear

 

Their sins left in an ashtray filled with troubles,

All  genuine adoration stolen,

No ransoms are issued,

 

And Satan keeps buying these lives.

Millions of dollars worth of manipulation,

Up in flames goes the ambiguous

 

Until, at last, exhausted, sensitivity wakes 

from confusion wearing a hospital band 

on its arm. On the inside scars still fight 

themselves. And, little by little, wrapped 

in clothing with wrinkles and blood stains, 

Miles from stairways and pearly gates,

She becomes, indeed, a reflection of us all.

Growing Prostitution

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The Poet: Montavis Mooring is a 20 year old budding wordsmith, poet and writer from Gaffney, South Carolina. He is a junior at Allen University and is pursuing a Bachelor’s of Science Degree in English with a concentration in Professional Writing. This is his first publication.​

The Artist: Dr. Ernest Williamson III has published poetry and visual art in over 400 national and international online and print journals. Some of Dr. Williamson's visual art and/or poetry has been published in journals representing over 40 colleges and universities around the world. His poetry has been nominated three times for the Best of the Net Award. Visit Dr. Williamson's website:  www.yessy.com/budicegenius

Caterpillars—a poem by Christopher Suda

Between Jazz & the Blues

The vein caterpillars up,

sucks it down through a glass

straw, then we vanish. Its bliss,

by the mean of memory can not

be resurrected, only performed.

Perhaps no different from death

since itself, too is unimaginable. Others pick

and choose but I can’t.

Angels visit through the doors, observe

the war, (discuss the next) then move

on by foot—wingless as always. While

leaving, one articulates ‘effort’. Farther

wins out each stretch.  The photograph is said

to depict a sturdy image of time—So will I.

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The Poet: Christopher Suda's poetry has been published in blazeVOX, Wilderness House Literary Review, The Aura Literary Review, Poetry Super Highway, The Wayfarer, Danse Macabre, Drunk Monkeys, and other literary journals. Christopher is currently a twenty-four year old undergraduate at the University of Alabama at Birmingham. He is a musician involved in three current music projects: Philos Moore (singer-songwriter) In Snow (Instrumental), and Loveislight (Experimental Hip-Hop).

The Artist: Dr. Ernest Williamson III has published poetry and visual art in over 400 national and international online and print journals. Some of Dr. Williamson's visual art and/or poetry has been published in journals representing over 40 colleges and universities around the world. His poetry has been nominated three times for the Best of the Net Award. 

The Meanings of Karen & Betrayal—a poem by Dr. Ernest Williamson III

Karen waited by the bronze staircase
leaning with tears of memory
in Leeds over the brooks wading carelessly
like drunken lichens teasing the wavering tides of oceanic dances
but I still drop to drippings of gray matter
consumed by a romantic way
staying with me
not in reality
though quite keen
of touch
though touched
in memory
staid
static
alone in droning chants
of a latent love
of imaginings
forms by the same ole
staircase
the bronze one
at
home


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Dr. Ernest Williamson III has published poetry and visual art in over 400 national and international online and print journals. Some of Dr. Williamson's visual art and/or poetry has been published in journals representing over 40 colleges and universities around the world. His poetry has been nominated three times for the Best of the Net Award. Visit Dr. Williamson's website:  www.yessy.com/budicegenius

Why Is It Called Spring— a poem by G. David Schwartz

I am called Dave because I prefer that name. I am called David when my wife gets angry at me. I am never called Spring. That is the name of one of the four seasons. The other are not winter, fall, summer nor autumn as well not Frank Valli, Bob Guadio Nick Massi, Hank Majewski and Nick DeVito who sang Rag Doll, Save It For Me, Ronnie, Big Girls Don't Cry as well as Sherry. 

Spring is what happens when you pull a string tight and let it snap. This snapping sound is spring. It is a cosmic rubber band which shoots plants and flowers from the ground. 

The first poem I memorize was Mr. Shakespeare "Sweet are the uses of adversity, which like the toad, ugly and venomous wears a precious crown upon its head. But the second, which I quoted far more often was: Spring has sprung, fall has fell, summer is here and its hot as hell.  

So Spring may have been called Frankie Valli but it was not. So I believe it was called Spring because the flowers sprung up and sprung is not as aesthetic sounding as spring. 

The real question is why is fall also called Autumn. I looked in a telephone book to call and ask Jerry Autumn but his number was unlisted. 

So to say as my grandfather used to end a conversation‚ SO there! 



The Artist Delving Into Her Craft 

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The Poet: G. David Schwartz is the former president of Seedhouse, the online interfaith committee. Schwartz is the author of A Jewish Appraisal of Dialogue (1994) and Midrash and Working Out Of The Book (2004).  He is currently a volunteer at The Cincinnati J. Schwartz continues to write.  His newest book, Shards And Verse (2011) is now in stores or can be ordered online.

The Artist: Dr. Ernest Williamson III has published poetry and visual art in over 400 national and international online and print journals. Some of Dr. Williamson's visual art and/or poetry has been published in journals representing over 40 colleges and universities around the world. His poetry has been nominated three times for the Best of the Net Award. Visit Dr. Williamson's website:  www.yessy.com/budicegenius