Poetry

"...sizzled like bacon on the grill..."

"...To pretend that poverty is shrinking is stupidity ..."

"Night is drifters..."

"...white chieftain of the broken bones..."

"...to miss those hands entwined..."

"...In my mind, there's an auditorium..."

"...ignoring each person as they share..."

"...may another sunrise find you..."

"...They twisted and turned with effortless grace and charm..."

John Sweet, b 1968, still numbered among the living. A believer in writing as catharsis.

"...As tortured souls we quibble and dispute..."

"...gentle, blessed by the sun..."

"...I give no second chance to anyone..."

"...a forest of metal trees..."

"...I said cheerio to the consumption of meat and eggs..."

"...So what do we make of a god..."

Cord Moreski is a poet from New Jersey.

"...Forty years old and suddenly<br /> alone..."

"...They also have Ulysses's stare..."

"...there is a whole world away from my window..."

"...From this seam emerges melic tunes..."

"...There should be monuments to my father..."

"...Had she stepped on the tail of a lion?..."

"...I did, I did as just I'd promised..."

"...I pass through the tide meeting the comfort of homesick strangers..."

"...that synthetic hair sure does billow in the breeze..."

"...how wicked the lightning is at the end of town..."

"...to bake the handmade bread to douse the fire in their bellies..."

"...those busy emissaries with love on their lips..."

"...Where is the spirit of ubuntu, or humanity in Africa?.."