poetry

Ken / Creative Commons

by Stan Sanvel Rubin

'Aftershock'

Jun 13, 2016
Joe Shlabotnik

by Richard O. Moore

Afterward, you look on the world as a happy place
flush from arrival into a new land of not being in pain.
Is there anything forgotten, now that the screaming's stopped?

'Spirit'

Jun 6, 2016
Cover Art: Russell Chatham "Hayfields on the Cottonwood Bench," 2004. Oil, 36" x 48". / Copper Canyon Press

by Jim Harrison

Rumi advised me to keep my spirit
up in the branches of a tree and not peek
out too far, so I keep mine in the very tall
willows along the irrigation ditch out back,
a safe place to remain unspoiled by the filthy
culture of greed and murder of the spirit.
People forget their spirits easily suffocate
so they must keep them far up in tree

Niclas Lindh

"The Pea Green Boat" provides a unique and nurturing place to hear stories about how it feels to be excluded, mocked, and bullied because you’re different, in color or ability – or how it feels to be accepted despite those differences. This week, Annie facilitates conversations with grade-school students and a teacher, Sheryl Noethe, about feeling different and isolated. Students write about their feelings and then read their poems.

Dave Pijuan-Nomura

by Joe Wilkins

Isn't it a shame, my grandmother said,
silver fork in her shivering fist,

how we have to go on eating?
We were sitting up to burnt chuck,

potatoes in their dirty jackets,
and hunks of Irish brown bread,

What Is A Poem?

Apr 14, 2016
Selya, our Librarian Poet
Sam Manno

April is National Poetry Month!  Join host Sam Manno and Selya, a librarian from the Missoula Public Library, on Saturday, April 16, for a lively conversation as they attempt to answer the question, "What is a poem?"  They'll explore the 'rhyme and reason' of different types of poems, while sharing some favorites.

'For Myself'

Apr 4, 2016
Bill Walsh

by Lois Red Elk

This day, I adorn braided
sweet grass earrings handed
down from Mother's Santee
rings of aromatic medicine.

From the ancestor lands of
Father's Lakota family, I fill
pockets with handfuls of
cedar, my protective shield.

Into this circle of morning
spirit food, a prayer surfaces
from the Southern recess of
primal night-dwelling dreams.

I thank the Western powers,
where a mirror reflects
images of the ones I trust—
transparent photos of the

'The Time of Irises'

Mar 21, 2016
cc: Gertrud K

by Jennifer Fallein

There is the dark one
with that sheen
of fluorescent green
the impossible color
of a male mallard's neck in sun.
And there is the salmon one

'rainy afternoon'

Mar 14, 2016
cc: leigh_east_photoman

by Lowell Jaeger

we lay with our legs entwined
breath to breath
mattress on the floor
candle-nub sputtering
on the nightstand

windows crying cold rain

our ghosts of persistent forebodings
we couldn't fend off
for long in the troubled face
of imminent consequence
headed our way...

'Insomnia'

Mar 7, 2016

by Bruce Morton

The shepherd has taken leave,
a no account. Wild
and wooly are the sheep,
coutless to the nth power—
flocking sheep, herds, hordes,
at warp speed,
insulating the crimped brain
from respite.

Instead,

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