An Inspired Community of Poets
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The Thanksgiving Well
Corn husks rustle in November breeze
Squirrel scampers with hickory nut feast
Ground littered with burnt yellow leaves
A time of Thanksgiving for man and beast
Pumpkin pies and banana nut bread
Fill the kitchen with sweet smelling spice
Contemplating the guests to be fed
Is part of what makes the holiday nice
Turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce
Traditiona… Continue
Posted by Fabian G. Franklin on November 24, 2009 at 5:38pm — 1 Comment
My Thanksgiving Gift--from a couple of turkeys!
My Father married four times, and by the fourth wife he was choosing wives closer to his oldest kids ages. His fourth wife took her role as "stepmother" very seriously, and just couldn't realize that those of us that were only about five years younger than her couldn't keep a straight face at the concept. She was a wonderful cook, tho… Continue
Posted by Mari Sloan on November 22, 2009 at 10:00pm — 3 Comments
The Crimson Scarf
Darja captured my heart and soul like no other. Every waking moment, thoughts of her filled my mind, and at night when I slept; I dreamt only of her. As spring rain brings forth bud and flower, so too did she raise me up from dark despair to glorious light. Words to describe her are but fleshless ghosts, void of weight and meaning, but I must try none the less… Continue
Posted by Sam Dickens on November 22, 2009 at 12:00pm
The Bride
At night I fight with gods and heroes
In dreams that fill my sleeping hours
Odysseus and Achilles stand beside me
And I am full of strength and power
Hercules is my friend there; and I his
I slap his mighty chest and he laughs
I ask if he will join the fight and he replies
“If invited”, he seems to find great humor in… Continue
Posted by Fabian G. Franklin on November 19, 2009 at 9:00am — 3 Comments
Delia's Gone (my apologies to Johnny Cash)
Just out by the curb
And heard a sound above her
(It was no chirping bird)
Spinning down from clear blue sky
A mean tornado moaned
Sucking her right up inside
It’s hungry howling cone
Somewhere over Kansas
poor Delia rides the host
Still clinging to the mailbox
(At least she left the post)
When I get another wife
To ease this lonely pain
I’ll only let her check the mail
When shackled to a chain
Posted by Sam Dickens on November 18, 2009 at 3:34pm — 1 Comment
Today I found
Over there .. just where the bramble bush is busy
Showing .. overflowing with promises of fruit
And cobwebbed spiders spinning tales
Of ‘if you don’t first succeed try, try again ..’
Robert the Bruce had much to say of that
Hiding in a cave, brave, but for the moment
Planning his next move against the English.
Beneath aforesaid ladder lies a book.
Should I touch it? Would its owner mind if
I have a look to see its theme for, if it seems
Interesting I… Continue
Posted by Emma on November 17, 2009 at 6:34pm — 3 Comments
LAUGHING!
I want to feel, act, be crazy ..
be a daisy in a field of buttercups,
sip nectar from minstrel bellflowers
bellowing in crisp autumn breeze ..
skip with undersized cows
mooing to the sounds of
screaming crows
seeing off the buzzard
seeking baby bunnies scampering
among old Brown’s vegetables
ready-ripe for the table – or were!
DEEP BREATH!
Oh, such a day of
yawning what-shall-I-do-next
scream, shout, and wave it
all about until it lights up
the room where incautious cuckoo calls
bo… Continue
Posted by Emma on November 17, 2009 at 6:22pm — 2 Comments
Perception is ..
We see what we want to see, analysing each to
His or her own strength or weakness, width and depth,
Creating what might not be present, a gifted ignorance.
Of the other person or place’s thrust and parry.
A tree, high, thick-grey-black wreck of trunk, branched,
Protected with brass plaque overlooking sign,
‘Do not walk on the grass – but, you may look at it’
And so we look and look, staring as if seeing every blade,
Every wave and curl, sway… Continue
Posted by Emma on November 17, 2009 at 6:20pm
Watcher on the Wall
sweet child of mine
even though you've yet to arrive,
please know, that I've thought of you
and never have I took your life so lightly...
for this world here is in dire straights now,
and it promises to get worse before it's done
but still I'd do my best to shield and protect your
fragile self from any coming harms be you a boy or girl
11-16-09
Posted by James K. Blaylock on November 17, 2009 at 6:06pm
Scattered
Burn my body and scatter my ashes at sea
So I might wash upon a thousand shores
Of distant islands eventually.
And on tropical beaches of black sand;
Soul, imprinted by the feet of children
I will come to understand.
What is it to swell with every tide?
I will settle when the moon pulls me ashore
And I will be alive!
Posted by Fabian G. Franklin on November 17, 2009 at 10:30am
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Featured Art
The Poet's Parlor is proud to feature the art of Sam Dickens
The Parlor
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Featured Novel
St. Peter’s Monsters is available at these fine booksellers and retail stores: Joseph Beth, Lexington, KY; Family Drug, Lebanon, VA; Coffee Buy the Book, Pulaski, VA; Wise County Historical Society, Wise, VA; Zazzy’Z, Abingdon, VA; Coffee Depot, Christiansburg, VA; Binding Time Cafe, Martinsville, VA; Kraftin’ Korner, Lebanon, VA; Appalachian Arts Center, Wardell, VA; and Tales of the Lonesome Pine Bookstore, Big Stone Gap, VA.
It is available on-line at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million, Powell’s Books, and Target, as well as in some stores in the chains. It is available through nevabryan.com.
You may order a signed copy via snailmail. Send $14.00 (plus .70 tax if in VA) plus $3.99 for shipping and handling to: Brighid Editions, PO Box 1428, Saint Paul, VA 24283.
Books are always available during the author’s appearances. See her calendar for an event near you.
Publication Date: February 2009
Price: $14.00
Length: 294 pages
Cover Style: 6″X9″ Color Trade Paperback
ISBN: 978-0-615-26391-5
LCCN: 2008910946
St. Peter’s Monsters is the story of Peter Sullivan, a homesick college student teetering on the edge of alcoholism. He discovers bigger monsters than the bottle when a mysterious young woman enters his life. Wren has fled Peter’s beloved Appalachian hills and now he must find out why she is keeping secrets about her past.
As they turn to each other for comfort, they are linked together in a chain of love, tragedy, and murder . . . a chain that binds them when they find themselves back in the haunted shadows of the Virginia coalfields.
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