Poets and artists published in Spectrum Online Edition: Love Lines are invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, January 21st between 3 and 5 pm PST. For more publishing opportunities, go to: http://spectrumpublishing.blogspot.com

Saturday, January 14, 2023

Christopher Askew

Love bites 

 

A sinister shape in the shadows

a feeling of fright in the air

a phantom in white at my window at night

letting me know that you care

               

The moans and the groans in the darkness

that fill me with dread and despair

the wails and the screams that invade all my dreams

the flailings that lay my soul bare

 

The feel of your fangs at my collar

the heart-staking stab of your stare

the odor of death on your skin and your breath

cara mia! your claws in my hair!

 

You're the nails on my chalkboard, my darling

the essence of fear to my scare

O the things that you do that endear me to you!

My devil, my darkness, ma chère.

 



Love & Snapdragons

 

These are the snapdragons

I nursed back from death – 

they finally bloomed,

but only for a week.

 

I decided they’d grow better

in deeper soil. This required hours

of digging out buttercups – those things

can really take over, like bindweed.

 

I also planted my one moonflower

for the year – the last viable seed

from the handful you gave me

some bright and blooming year gone past.

 

Those other bulbs are hyacinths –

I ‘m not sure yet where – or if –

we’ll plant them – our snapdragons

are in their third year in temporary pots

 

It crossed my mind

that they might become perennial

with the thermal mass of the cement porch

and a brick planter –

 

but that sounds like a commitment

you’re not ready for yet.

R A Ruadh

perhaps


with a light finger
you trace love
between my breasts
in sweet sweaty lines

my cat curled beside me
ears twitch as my pen
lines up love poems
scratch by scratch

a poem is a laser
sharp line burning
into a heart
to write love’s name

you will not mind
the boundary line
of my self defining
who I love

though lovers lined up
through the passage of time
they disappeared inconsequential
or best forgotten

in sweet sweaty lines
between my breasts
you trace love
with a light finger

Friday, January 13, 2023

Ashton Cynthia Clarke

The Women in Between

The coil-haired, unknown woman

arrives in my dreams

from many generations closer to our baobab roots of Western Africa.

She is my great-grandmother's great-

grandmother maybe

last in our maternal line to bear a child while still

enslaved in the Caribbean. I see that child

—a daughter—

snatched from warm mother’s arms and sold

away from all the love she had

known and may never know

again. But then

I imagine the pride my great-

ancestor has when her forever-

soul greets my mother’s soul

forever. I see the women

in between whose actions and memories echo

pained victory through my life.

And when their spirits fill me I find

love for myself that I may never have

known.




Two Love Poems

You chat me up in bed pelting me with precious palabras in English and Spanish "Cinthia" you intone my name wet lips parting wetter lips con el sonido español of your i's:

"Seen-thee-a,

ven ahora."

Then your love rushes in like a swollen rio floods the jagged lines of my parched soul slakes a longing once as enduring as desert.

 

My heart once sang

verses of love my breath

its chorus. Hovering unfinished now

each note of life hangs below

lines of the stave in weighty melody

mourning.


Mary Mayer Shapiro

Love at that moment


Love is an emotional

Expression of feelings

With different meanings

Assorted words spoken

Filled with a heart felt thanks


Love is a song

You like to hear

Over and over

Again


Love is a movie

Making things right

In the end

Showing justice prevails


Love is a child crying

Bring bought back

From the dead

With you joining in


Love is watching

People taking responsibility

For their actions

Feeling pride

With a job well done


Perhaps love is just enjoying life

Living it to the fullness

Selflessly for the most part

Making a difference

A day at a time




Elements of Love


Sun beaming down over the lake

Steaming vapor evaporating over the water

Consisting of gases

Some hydrogen

Some oxygen

Condensation in the cloud


When two hydrogen

One oxygen spied each other

Love at first sight

Became a molecule

A family

Mama, papa, baby Molly q

Bonding together

Joined by other molecules

Forming a close knit family


When the time was right

Left the cloud in precipitation

Depending on the weather

Rain, sleet, hail, snow

Kept together as a family


They came down on rocky landscape

Stayed on the path until

Approaching soft soil

Moving fast transporting sediments with themselves

Moving slow deposited sediments


Larger groups of molecules

Form creeks, rivers, brooks, ponds, lakes

They form crescents, horseshoes, u shapes, oxbows

As they meander over land


As the evaporation cycle continued

They always stayed together

Condensation from the cloud

They traveled all over


Hibernated in winter as ice

With their bond slightly weaken

They float on top

Of the water


In spring they

Ran the rapids

Or just amber peacefully

In lakes


When the time came to retire

They landed in the pond

Mama, papa, baby Molly q

Keeping the bond of love





Commitment


Love is a commitment

Not a moment


Love is unconditionally

Standing by whether right or wrong


Love is caring, doing for

Yourself and others


Love is not just a word

But an action


Love must not be the ultimate sacrifice

Love may not be returned


Love is not a one way street

And you must learn the differences


Love is for all season long

Summer, winter, spring and fall


 

Patricia Murphy

Love Lines

The love lines to my heart are congested. 
Like a fever that's run wild. 
Like a boat that's run out of steam. 
It needs motivation to continue. 
It's like a nest without any eggs. 
Like a blizzard - icy cold. 

It's frozen in time.  
Like a time machine without a watch. 
The ticking has stopped.  

It's at a dead end. 
With nowhere to go. 
The lines of communication are closed. 

It's at a stagnant standstill. 
Like a frog in a dead pond 
With legs flapping. 
Like a seal with no wheels. 
Like a cat on a hot tin roof.  
Like a dog wagging it's tail.  
Without a sail.  




Love

Love lines are a mystery. 
Love is a phenomenon. 
It's a decision to love or not. 
It the lines are open you can reach someone. 
Otherwise, it's nearly impossible. 

Love is great. 
Love is wonderful. 
Love is successful. 
Love is creative. 
Love is sentimental. 
Love is glorious. 
Love is gracious. 
Love is present. 
Love is being in love. 

To be with the one you love 
Is a feat to be measured. 

To be around the one you love is 
A great accomplishment.  

Love is breathtaking. 
Love is forever. 

Suki Sun

Be Kind To This December Ant

 

Be kind to this December ant

Finding its way on

My MacBook keyboard

This stranger

Will soon be familiar with

All my fingerprints stamped

On the black keys

Unlocking the epic research

On relationship science

Seeping onto my Notes app

And each love poem

Typed out for you

 


 

A Kiss Without A Kneeling Heart

 

Your coast of indifference

Answers the kiss

Without a kneeling heart

A nice puff of doubt

Outgrown oxygen in the east

How can I promise roses without thorns

And feel the heat from a plastic cigarette

 

Scars of ash

Take care of the venus in my veins

Time presents another prisoner

Remorses the bankrupted water

Once moved thousands of stones

To build the oldest pyramid

 

Above the flowers of Shangri-La

With all my waves undressing you

We used to be an ocean

The earthquake never found

The uniforms never burned

Thursday, January 12, 2023

Larry Jaffe

THE VERY ACTION OF BE

Granting of beingness
Is not just a pose 
It is life itself 

Poured from sacred hearts 
It is instant combustion 
Of one to another 

It is the ultimate validation 
Of supreme existence 

It is the holiest 
Of holy 

Go about your business
But remember to

Grant, Give, Confer, Award, Bestow

The very existence of another
And their right to live
Survive and coexist

It is the holiest 
Of holy 

Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Tim Tipton

From this point to

across this room she know (or I think she knows) that I love her That I study her closely from far away and savoring every gesture she offers me adds another day to my life That her quarter moon smile lights up my heart (Does she know?) I hold everything about her in my memory and set it free on my loneliest night. She has become
absent more and my days are not the same
without her. I often find myself wondering about her (and did she know?)





I don't love you anymore

I used to love you beyond anything
and then there was a time that I 
just counted on you because it seemed
like the right thing to do. To carry
around with me like an amulet, something
in amber. But the fire has gone out.
What I was seeing was a reflection,
a trick with mirrors. It's all ashes
now. I know this is going to hurt
but here it goes: I don't love you,
I don't love you, I don't love you.

Peggy Castro


blinded since birth

by ego

today the clarity

of a red rose 🌹

Monday, January 9, 2023

Strider Marcus Jones


LOVE IS, ALL IS

 

love is,

all is-

light and dark,

shade and shadow,

high-low

wide-narrow

crater under rainbow.

tramp or truffle you chance to meet

and take your time to share and eat;

a mythical ark

in-out skylark,

so fluttery butterfly in buddleia stomach

that wakes you up

more muttery in your head-

with jade of jealousy

and truest thread

come concave and convex,

mirrored and mouthed in images and text

with-without key,

but only borrowed

today and tomorrowed

and after that, what will be-

something ethereal

deaths' music can't serial,

alone, then together

in its own weather

sensual and free.



                               LAY LOVES TABLE

                                   set down in stone
                                   to be alone,
                                   rocking, in the tired rhythm
                                   of all to give, and nothing given.

                                   stop the clock inside the dream
                                   of motif with design and theme,
                                   and motion you to lay loves table-
                                   without facade or fairie fable.

                                   hang your coat up on the moon,
                                   with syllables that speak in tune-
                                   and resonate out light and reason,
                                   to make it real in every season.



ALCHEMY SO RARE

when i make love with you sunny,
i don't worry about money-
or other things, come to that;

i just soar away
in everything you say
and never dream of turning back.

in this faded old room,
we look up at the moon-
through its worn beige curtain;

what we don't have, some say
can turn the heart away,
but that's not us, i'm certain;

come and stay with me sunny,
being poor can be funny-
it's not about the things we're not,

let others have their walls,
with everything it falls-
without love, gold is pot.

what we have to share
is alchemy so rare-
precious in and by itself;

the moon and stars are free,
some mountains and some sea-
and we are forests in ourself.

we don't need cars and boats,
or pockets in our coats,
just these senses and to be-

my movie and my star,
my candle in its jar-
burning bright enough to see.

Alicia Mathias

    for: J.A.F. MY LATE GRANDMOTHER'S  LONG-LOST PEARL returns  to its  setting