Sheeple

By Eric Meub

They’re angry Patriots (and heavyset)

Who’ve stormed the Capitol while out to get

Pelosi, Mitch McConnell and the Veep.

They think the rest of us are merely sheep:

We’re blindly grazing with the herd. But then,

The other night, while watching CNN,

I heard the West Virginian say out loud –

But sir, I was just following the crowd.

He never knew it was against the law.

Can anyone but me discern a baa?

Copyright © 2021 by Eric Meub

Highways and Byways: Remembering the Willamette

By Maik Strosahl

I enjoyed Eric Meub’s poem “Willamette Valley” on December 12th, but I kept thinking about the drawing by Susan C. Price. It seemed to capture a sadness, a looking back with longing. This last summer I got sent with a special load out of my normal area and into Oregon. I remember the mountains most – they were different from the ones I had gone through in Colorado and Utah. Beautiful country. In my poem I tried to capture some of what I saw in Susan’s picture, drawing also from the biblical story of the Garden of Eden.


I remember the valley.
I remember the heavens on earth,
land flowing milk and honey,
wine and meads—
blackberries to die for.

Final Embrace

When Death comes,
there is a smile on his lips.
    —Muhammad Iqbal

By Moristotle

Death’s embrace closes,
its kiss brushes my lips.
Strange the comfort it gives,
unexpected during hours of
running free, frolicking.
Not the enemy we supposed,
not the fate we wished to escape
though we always knew we couldn’t.
But the friend we always needed,
if never thought could be.

Copyright © 2021 by Moristotle

Goines On: “A day without wine is like....”

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Goines considered himself to be a realist – there is no personal god, life is mostly sad – so he was taken aback by what happened the morning he glanced at an ad in the New York Times online. Was he not a realist after all, but rather an idealist?
    The shirt on the woman in the ad had a stenciled declaration beginning, “A day without wine is like....” And from the next two lines, Goines’ glancing eyes caught only the word “idea.”

BODY COUNT: Killers (a novel): Chapter 21. Agent Roberts

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access installments

Wayne Roberts’ history included a lot of undercover work when he was with the MPD, but this was his first time being lead on a case. He was determined that it would be his day in the sun. There weren’t many moments in his life he could point to as proud ones. There were only the day he graduated from the police academy and today – because of the faith Blake Harris had placed in him.

All Over the Place: Consequences

By Michael H. Brownstein

When madness takes root,

When deviant behavior becomes a norm,

When great lies get great support —

Let’s not forget the Hitler big lie,
No one “could have the impudence.
To distort the truth so infamously.”

Poetry & Portraits: Theseus

Drawing by Susan C. Price

Theseus
By Eric Meub

[Originally published on June 14, 2014]

The king gave me protection, and the god
the body of an ad for underwear,
but on the docks of Troezen in a fraud
of both I tempted every sailor there.

78-14 Years Ago Today: “Will you still need me, will you still feed me...?”

By Moristotle

[Originally published on my 64th birthday, January 8, 2007, without an image.]

Reading Obama

The Cairo Speech

By Eric Meub

—Inspired by Barack Obama’s memoir, A Promised Land, pp. 358-59, 365-66

To hear a U.S. president tell hard

But basic truths would catch them all off guard—

To recognize achievements, that’s a start:

Islamic math, its sciences, its art.

Highways and Byways: Live Music at the Bear Trap Beer Tap

By Maik Strosahl

I never was much for the bar scene. I never found the “Cheers” I was looking for. This is my attempt at capturing the atmosphere of all the Dew Drop Inns I have seen in towns across the midwest and central region in a poem about a relationship gone bad. Have a drink and enjoy the live music at the Bear Trap.


Staring into the blur
of ice cubes in scotch
as they twirl,
round and round
by the twist of my wrist,
searching for answers
in the swirl of amber.

Are you happy?

Boldt Word & Images: I Am Transfixed

By Bob Boldt

I Am Transfixed by a Giant Water Lilies Triptych

by Claude Monet 1995 Chicago.

(after James Wright¹ and Rainer Maria Rilke²)

Four feet in front of me looms a waterscape.

Claude Monet painted scenes of empty air

where even a Rouen Cathedral might float

Contest Update: Other possible futures for Donald Trump

More scenarios for writers to explore

By Moristotle

We are grateful to Mr. Joe Hanover for suggesting some alternative futures for Donald Trump. Mr. Hanover believes that Mr. Trump’s future will grow more out of his achievements as President than out of his failures. Among those achievements, Mr. Hanover lists:

All Over the Place: The Incident with Mace

From My Teaching Book

By Michael H. Brownstein

The first thing you notice about mace is how pungent it is. Then you notice the taste. Then eyes begin to burn. This was the order for me. For Stanley, the order came differently. The mace hit him full in the eyes. He bent over and vomited. Then the pain came and he could not see. The third person only felt its anger in his nose, and he sneezed, coughed a bit, drank a few glasses of water and it was gone.

Encounter with a Leaf

By Moristotle

A leaf beckons – alive, florescent,
in a rainbow of colors, a prism of light
refracted, bent, cast across
a stained garage floor. It greets my eye
at just the moment it needs to happen,
the short span of time when the sun’s rays
penetrate the door at an angle to strike
the white reflector on a bicycle’s front wheel.
Oh leaf, oh leaf, oh leaf! Oh life!

Are Children Too Smart for Their Own Good…

Or Just Too Smart for Disney?

By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)

[The first installment of this story, with the subtitle “Or Just Too Smart for Adults?,” appeared on October 30 last year.]

When my son was 2-years, 8-months old, he and I were getting on an elevator in Anaheim when a 40ish woman joined us. She was headed for Disney and was decked out in a bulging yellow and black tightly stretched lycra mouseketeer-like outfit and some sort of bee-like pseudo-princess headband with flashing lights - apparently a Junior Leaguer who had not taken an objective look in a mirror in quite a while. She looked at me, looked at my son, and practically screamed: “Is your grandpa taking you to Disney?!!?”