Spring 2000

  Featured poets:  Chad R. Dobson ,   Eugene Salganik ,   G.L.Verge , G.L.Verge (2),   
Jimmie R. Pennington,   Lorraine VanDyke,   M. Laudenslager ,   Marlene Malon ,   Michael Levy ,   
Myst Man,   Paul Sexton ,   Timothy Chandler

 The School of Life by   Lorraine VanDyke

Sometimes I've felt that life was cruel:
On fate I laid the blame.
But then one day God showed to me
A rainbow through the rain.
And looking back I realize
I had no right to storm.
For now I know that God has placed
On every rose a thorn.
I've learned to live through heartache;
My soul has grown through pain;
For life besides the sunshine,
Must also have some rain.
Some precious dreams have shattered.
Lie hopeless at my feet;
But I have learned to conquer
Because I've known defeat.
No gold would ever glisten,
Nor highly valued be,
If it were not for the burning
That brings forth purity.
So all the things I thought were bad
I see were best for me:
I was not born to live a day
But for eternity!
So finally I understand;
I see the faith I lack.
For on my Tapestry of Life
God is working from the back.

©Lorraine VanDyke                                

 PEN IN HAND by   Jimmie R. Pennington

I would like to take pen in hand
And write the perfect verse
To touch the heart of every man
Oh- if only I could converse
The thoughts of freedom sought
Within the children's eyes
Throughout the world far and nigh
To warn that hatred wrought
Within a single thought
Lingers still in twilight years
If only I could write away their tears
Give to them the words of peace
While still in tender youth
If only I could put to words
The need of wishes not yet heard
Of hope and simple truth
To write the perfect verse
Of freedom throughout the universe
Of peace within the soul of man
With nothing more than pen in hand
(For The Children)

© 1998
Jimmie R. Pennington


We were swept up,
like tales of timeless romance.
From crowded festival sidewalk scene
into back alley parking lot dreams.
Where we found our cars
parked side by side.
Where we found
that the simple touch of skin on skin
could create synaptic explosion.
Where we found
that when certain people
look long into each others eyes
not a million spoken words
not a million written sentences
can say as much.
Even as a Buddhist
the notion of past lives
was never completely real to me
until now that is
because I must have known you
somewhere, sometime before.
That strange blue light
that made red roses seem purple
radiating through wide open window
in cozy little candle lit restaurant
captured your silky smooth skin
and sexy soft moist eyes
frozen in time
like stop motion flashbulb imagery,
forever remembered
like the great beauties of antiquity.
Like Gwenivere, Cleopatra or Helen of Troy
here you were in the flesh
all they were and more.
You have the primal energy
of a sensual exciting young girl
and the substance, grace, and soul
of an independent, somewhat balanced,  woman
You are my fantasies realized.
I am excited by the sound of your voice,
the touch of your skin, the smell of your hair,
the look in your eyes, the feel of your lips
the expressions on your face
the words that you speak
the feelings you feel
the thoughts that you think
the pure energy that flows from you
and pours in to me!
I am completely and overwhelmingly
excited by you.
You are day by day by night by night
by moment by moment, new life.
When I'm with you, there is no future.
When I'm with you there is no past.
Only the here
only the now
only the us,
and it FEELS like enough.
And still
the image of that first night
that first magic night
is haunting.
Standing by parked car at 6:00 am
chilly wind blowing
through silent abandoned streets
and our EMBRACE
seemed timeless.
I reached out and touched your face
so very gently
and tilted you toward the light
of a mystic DEEP ELLUM sunrise
and in that pale blue light I saw
one thousand
unwritten poems
in your eyes.

Paul E Sexton 3

written by   Chad R. Dobson

Serene is
the boone of
Making it
on the beach
In her midst
A tender sequence
of notes
Shies away
and buries her
in the sand

© written by Chad R. Dobson



Creeps in, blots out the sun.
A foul, cold, pounding rain
Descends with fury,
Upon upturned leaves
Thirsty for its pummeling.
Clouds; Ominous, rumbling
Ablaze with fires of light,
Imprison grasslands
Forests and hearts.
The sun,
Denied visitation
Patiently waits.
These vaporous beasts
Will spit their last breath.
Storms like darkness are transient;
They grumble and try but never stay.
The omnipotent sun returns the day.
Darkness is strong, its claws cut deep.
Like a rained-out cloud on a
Cleansing breeze,
It must give way to the sun's warm


© G.L.Verge

 Winter's Dance by   Myst Man

As all is subdued in a snow born last night,
such silence, such calm, as my heart slows
in cadence to it all,
Winter's breath has wrapped itself tightly
to the tree I planted in Fall's haste of
leaf turning against the last of summer's gasp,
With sparrows' footprints sewn in a narrow line
on the snow of our tomorrow,
The wind you found cold and I call my friend,
sings through the old pine branches as fingers
on a harp,
All in vain as its music desires a Winter dance
on the sheet of white floor it made for me
for you, beckoning that hands entwine with
a full moon to witness and shine upon,
And as the nearby river crashes over rock and
pebbled floor, a symphony evolves to pace
our feet to,
Fog of breath exhaled into arms and cling of
chest to chest, all things grow warmer . . .
In a Winter's Dance.

Myst Man at screenbreeze

 Irish Blessings By:   Marlene Malon

The land of emerald calls to us on high. Shining through lovely  Irish eyes. With a bit of luck inside a pot of gold. Little angels peek from under a green clover. And bless our dreams one thousand fold.

FAITH by   Timothy Chandler

Freak TV and porn with colours that'll kill,
Have you had your share today? Do you feel you got your fill?
Or is there something more that screams from deep inside.
Something old as age a resemblance of pride,
Can you hear the distant voice? Crying like the child,
The whisper of a memory, like warriors of the wild.
A time when we would talk with minds attuned akin,
Good and bad life and death without the crutch of sin,
Now we teach our children how to count to ten,
To memorize and calculate with no time for now and then,
Our thoughts become our tools with which to find success,
And with each dollar earned our peace is less and less,
We turn to faith for love when love creates the faith,
We kill each other's children and blame it on their race,
We seek our god's forgiveness atonement swift and just,
And with each dollar earned we buy a bit more lust,
We hold aloft our reasoning be it Satan god or science,
And justify our actions with the perception of compliance,
And if each day you battle with the necessities of life,
Don't give up the faith and don't believe the hype,
We have to see this world is ours no more yours than mine,
And stop counting endless days with misconceptions of time,
Whatever your god, race, or creed we all know right from wrong,
Find your pride and live for good and know that you belong.

© Timothy Chandler 2000  Website: ~muruto"Accolade

 The Soul's Muse By: Marlene Malon

I  call upon my inspirational  muse. And listen to  my hearts song play. The music  that my soul cannot refuse.  'Tis not a  choice on any given  day. I  listen  with resonance  of  innocent  ears. Giving credence to the soul's will first. Then graciously release  all  collective  fears. In creation derived  from my artist's thirst.

 SEEDS OF GOODNESS by  Michael Levy

Gentle beings riding on the wings of time,
harmonious cords forever upwards they do climb,
Encountering bliss with every note they entwine,
the seeds of goodness grown on Holy vine.
Celestial crops on Planet Eden's soil,
souls sprouting human form, from spirits magic foil,
clouds of volcanic ash creation on the boil,
days of splendor within a wizards joyful toil.
Lightening of might injecting intelligence of light,
rainbows of joy infusing colors beyond sight,
prisms in raindrops, gems of mystical wealth,
birds of paradise in fields of infinite health,
Simplicity of life in meadows of pure potential,
exotic senses explode in the juices of the sensual
gardens of delight, happiness grown in God's strength,
bouquet of beauty embedded in one's own true self.

© Copyright Michael Levy August 1999

website: Michael Levy: Author Poet Philosopher

 Perfection by   M. Laudenslager

He who walks with grace,
Possesses an angelic face.
The mere sight of him
Touches me in some dark place.
Such danger to ponder,
My mind's in endless wonder,
Could this be love?
The slightest scent of him sends me reeling,
What is this strange feeling that he deals me.
Few can equal his height,
Beside me he stands,
In comparison I seem so meek.
Oh, how he makes my knees weak
With a passionate kiss or loving glance.
My heart never stood a chance.
Hair as black as the darkest night,
Eyes like the richest chocolate,
Is he Mister Right?
How I admire his broad shoulders,
Strong yet gentle arms,
Which keep me safe from harm,
And on the coldest of nights
They keep me ever so warm.
Never have I met a man with such heavenly  charm.
To walk with him among the lush green forest,
Such a thought makes me blush.
I feel so strange,
What is this feeling I cannot comprehend?
We sit together on the mountaintop
Watching the setting sun over the distant  horizon,
Many wondrous hues
Reds and blues,
But above and beside me
All I can behold is absolute beauty.
Our lips tenderly meet,
The taste so lusciously sweet.
A kiss of his soft lips
Conveys and intimate passion.
No other could ever compare.
He possesses such looks
That contain an immense loving adoration,
Which penetrates the depths of my soul.
A quiet voice that speaks with candor
And still retains a gentle manner.
His caress is masculine,
Yet remains incredibly tender,
Creating in me some secret splendor.
Heaven made us to fit together
Like pieces of a puzzle glued forever.

© M. Laudenslager - Spring 1999


I awoke on a pasture of velvet
Cool, moist and green.
I had slept on a bed of petals,
Brightly perfumed but unseen.
Now given voice with colors that sing
By Sol's morning glory and the life he brings.
Unwrap this day. Let it start.
Play it out slowly 'till I depart.
Grant me time to enjoy the day,
let it stay morning, keep noon at bay.
Euphoria unbounded at noon not been,
I lingered and listened to the day quite keen.
Neither joyful sight nor mournful plea
will cease Sol's journey to the sea.
He passed over, as did noon,
when rainbows of dusk, beckoned the moon.
The dew soaked day, it did allow
the fiery master, his head to bow.
My palette of wonder; this tranquil lush lea
will paint night-found fantasies of things to be.
Inhaling nature's caress, I did laze,
awaiting a dream-filled, moonlit haze.
Where the moon comes hence,
near a mist covered lake
and a white picket fence,
lies a young dreamer, whom sleep had taken,
his night near over must soon awaken.
He has slept on a field of dreams, colored by  joys of memories been.
A smooth skinned beauty, her virginal kisses,
her muse-like impetus is what he misses.
Whether things to be or memories been,
we dream on life's pasture
cool moist and green.

© G.L.Verge

 For only a moment by   Eugene Salganik

In the deepest fog I saw thee
Your eyes shone like emeralds in the dark sea
For a brief moment time stopped
A goddess, the glorious Venus, the goddess of love
A creation like no other of god's children
You are as cold as a sentinel on a mid-winter's night
You are the princess of light even though you are shrouded in the darkness
For only a moment let me taste your salty lips
For only a moment let me feel your soft touch
For only an instant let me see you
You shine with a sierra essence, the highest order of the angel
No plebeian is the great queen and no coward is the man that stands before her
You are what keeps me real
You are me vision, my dream
For only a moment let me steal a kiss
For only a moment let me touch your skin
For only an instant let me exist with you
Upon the sacred top of Olympus
You are my life, my dream, and my vision
I have always known thee
I have always loved thee
And now and forever let me say the truth
Lay the lies beneath a satin clothe
Lay the injustice and imagination beneath the earth
Forget the past and though shalt not block the passage which shant exist
You are the goddess atop a heavenly abyss
A scepter of truth and chronic divider
You are what separates the dreams and reality
Let me inside the walls of heaven
Just for a brief instance to see you again
A love, which was always there
Shall be sorted amongst my tawdry mind
Let me lay the shambles of my broken heart to sleep beneath the heaven's ground
And let me lay there by your side in a place where time stands still
Let me wash my face with holy water
And for moment let me forget
For an instant with you I would give a lifetime
For a moment let me taste your salty lips
For a moment let me feel your silken skin
For a moment let me be
With you

© Eugene Salgani

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