Poetry

by Javier Flavius III   The sport of choice for the urban poor is BASKETBALL.   The sport of choice for maintenance level employees is BOWLING.   The sport of choice for front-line workers is FOOTBALL.   The sport of ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney               for Liz and Sharon "The light shined through her, not on her."—Liz Faulkner Our lives are fleeting like a spider web lurking in dusty corner of a house, yet the web we spin during ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney Particles of water fell in the form of snow. Birds gorged themselves at swaying feeder. Tree stumps donned Astrakhan hats. Lace dotted windows. Snowmen magically formed in the afternoon with goofy grins and crooked caps. The ...
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by Philip Brady (Dublin Statue on junction of O'Connell and Talbot Street) James Joyce stood on Talbot Street, Walking cane and face mask on, Listening to the passing talk.   Ahem, Ahem, no cough, no phlegm, No Covid taste, no ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney      for Douglas Grandgeorge The book lay closed on the table, yet he could read it; he knew the surface and below the surface where wisdom slept like a cradle with its secrets. He knew the ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney end of snowy pelt mid-winter ice melt   small humps of ice dirty, not nice   fevered plant or two poke ice-crust through   as snow evaporates landscape translates   birds less frantic at feeder less ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney The House of Laws mourns for the loss of its dignity. The labyrinth of law and decorum echoes in silent objection to its violation before the world.   We weep for the unnecessary dead. Everyone knows ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney Nonchalant Reverend Junco says Hi! Superstitious Morning Dove says Goodbye! Postal Deliverer Chickadee, here… Wren, a delicate dancer, conjures charm… Bluejay crowd, big bullies of the whole roost… Unflappable Robin files a lawsuit… White-throated Sparrow, a ...
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by Philip Brady   There were snowdrops in the graveyard today, First growth of the season, or maybe last. Nature has its own calculating way With calendar for future times and past.   It was the Winter Solstice where we ...
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by Kevin T. McEneaney      for Cameron Hush! He is prancing, frolicking in snow: More like a striped chipmunk than squirrel. Tossing snow in air, falling like a veil removed from upright arm, teeth-smiling face. He lives in fluff-joy of ...
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