A Poet’s Dream II
The warmth of the fire lit my desire
To stay out longer that night
Little did I know that the devil would bestow
Unto me a night full of frightI happened an upward glance and saw demons dance
Up in the midnight sky
They begged me to follow, but much to their sorrow
I offered a negative replyThe moon turned to blood, my emotions flood
Throughout my mind, body, and soul
The devil did smile, and all the whole while
His evil deeds took their tollLife or death, suffocation or breath
It didn’t matter anymore
Creatures of the night that once gave fright
Were no longer fictitious loreBlood hung from each fang, they were hungry again
And I was their next meal
I begged for an end, either they did not comprehend
Or they did not approve my appealPresently I awoke, my sheets sweat soaked
However; I was safe in my bed
I looked out the window, there hung a black widow
And the moon appeared to be red
Original Poetry: A Poet’s Dream II by J.C. Gagliano
Original Poetry: Surrender Awaits by C.A. Helton
Surrender Awaits
by C.A. Helton
When you kiss the rain
It melts the dewdrops in my eyes
On a night when the moonlight burns
A cracked and hardened soul
In a race through a maze of memories
Against unforgiving time
Surrender awaits…
Waiting for answers
To unending questions
Muted by decisions
That have already been made
Regret is unkind
Chaos is on a collision course with destiny
Surrender awaits…
Crippled by conformity
Cushioned by the cool comfort of ignorance
Blinded by the emptiness
That hides in the shadows of the heart
Unswayed by the call for nature’s wrath
At last at peace
I cease my quest for truth
Surrender awaits…
January 2009
Original Poetry: A Slow Hard Screw to the End of the World by Joanna Roter
Looking into the Eye of Sorrow
A Slow Hard Screw to the End of the World
by Joanna Roter
Drinking at two in the morning. Dreaming with eyes wide open as the sinews of yesterday's prospect dissolves into another starry night. Those stars are like dreams made crystalline by the reality in the blackest blue of nightfall. Bodies encounter each other drenched in perspiration making the mistakes that tongues dare not speak in the harsh daylight sun. Continue forward or possibly backwards, down, around, and inside out. Anything to elude the confrontation of truth. Acrobatic maneuvers that embrace a way of life, a life devoted to detachment and rational thought. Yet the anticipation of masochism pollutes the earnest reason. Walking a line thin and true, steadily on the path to desired righteousness. So effortless to tumble off the path and dwindle downwards to earth below. The decline feels so immaculate but the ground is less desired. Cold in its harsh and barren crust.
Joanna Roter is a graduate of UW Milwaukee with a Bachelor Degree in Creative Writing. Currently employed in the world of high finance. Hobbies include movies, comics, music, singing, dancing, cocktails, philosophy, and knitting.
Pic: Looking into the Eye of Sorrow by Suraiya “Ruma” Haroon, used with permission. Ruma is currently a graduate student in genetics at UW Madison.
