Sunday, May 10, 2015
Scott Thomas Outlar- A Poem
Test
Tube
Down
from the heavens came
twilight
of a fading age
Worry
not, they come in peace
where
have I heard that line before?
Aquarius
is spinning round
spill
the bucket for a flood
They
have watched us all this time
thought
eventually we’d get it right
No
hope in that course they see
a
buried species below the sea
Like
Atlantis, we had our chance
pray
the next seed grows with grace
Bio:
Scott Thomas Outlar writes about this, that, and occasionally the other. His work can be found at 17numa.wordpress.com.
Ayaz Daryl Nielsen- Two Poems
earthrise
the old lunar probe
blinks one last time
lovely envoy
my tentacle squeezes
a bit too hard
ayaz daryl nielsen, x-roughneck (as on oil rigs)/hospice nurse, editor of bear creek haiku (25+ years/125+ issues), homes for poems include Lilliput Review, SCIFAIKUEST, Dead Snakes, Shamrock, Kind of a Hurricane, and! online at: bear creek haiku poetry, poems and info
Robin Wyatt Dunn- A Poem
When You Feel like the Center of the World
Fire then fire
thrum under bier my bear my burr
flume rot and hue my face
with your truer terror red:
Fire and more fire
On my own
On my face
Transmitted to you:
The novel is the story of you
Come off that planet you dreamt of
and an avatar is only a victim
of the alien mind control ray
(but still, I want you to enjoy it)
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Alan Catlin- Three Poems
High
Altitude Bomber
He was on
a flightless
strafing
run from Planet
Weird,
his tie‑dyed
Hard Rock
Uranus t-shirt
torn,
grass and mud stained
blunting
the wild, bright
colors as
if he'd spent
last
night being dragged
behind a
tractor in a
cornfield
way past
East of
Eden.
"Say,
partner, mix me up
one of
your best High Altitude
Bombers. I'm
going to need
lots of
rocket fuel for a
long
midnight run."
I didn't
need to ask what
occupied
country that flight
might
take. His
cruising
altitude
was in a stratospheric
ozone
layer beyond search
lights,
no topo maps needed
for
targets, everything was a
primary
objective in this
comprehensive search and destroy
mission
of his life.
The
Afterburner
His interplanetary space
exploration
party was on the last legs of
a
journey in the dark, badly in
need
of fresh supplies, pure
oxygen, rocket
fuel that might propel them
beyond
the severe gravitational pull
of heavenly
bodies doped into a fourth
dimension
beyond star charts, maps of
the known
world and what lies on the
other side,
running on the last alcohol
fumes at
the bottom of the tank, the
captain striking
matches in the poorly lighted
bar, trying to
check the levels of
intoxicating fluids,
bank notes necessary for a
fresh supply
of whatever might keep them
going,
afraid of a crash landing for
everyone
aboard, a desert planet,
flash points
of their collective ozone
layers
flaring briefly before going
out for good.
Hell Cat
After dark she
comes
alive, emerging
from
shadow worlds so
Un-
earthly, so unreal
her
skin is almost
trans-
parent, defined
by
garments that seem
to
have no weight,
no
substance, no
existence
of their own, so
that
when she leans
forward
over the bar to
accept
a light, she never
seems
to have been
anywhere
else, not exactly
having
arrived so much
as
simply existing
wherever
she needed to be, her
voice
an intaken breath
held,
unspoken thoughts
co-
mingling with yours, a
heartbeat away
from
suggesting trading
your
soul for a week of
endless
nights on the town,
never
glimpsing the light
until
debts accrued were to be
paid.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Ayaz Daryl Nielsen- Two Poems
an old grey god sighs
his drunk acolyte's
mumbled devotions
from a window well in
another dead-end alley
just enough room
for both of them
'stop being so jealous'
my sister reiterates
'you know well enough
only the oldest sibling
inherits a third eye'
ayaz daryl nielsen, x-roughneck (as on oil rigs)/hospice nurse, editor of bear creek haiku (25+ years/125+ issues), homes for poems include Lilliput Review, SCIFAIKUEST, Dead Snakes, Shamrock, Kind of a Hurricane, and! online at: bear creek haiku poetry, poems and info
Monday, April 27, 2015
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