Annis Cassells

Flowing
by Natalia Corres
 
There are days when the words
flow through me
looking for a place to
flow out,
to fill the atmosphere
with sounds that make
pictures of sweeping fog and distant seas.
Floating feelings that search for
the arroyos of the heart, to careen and carve
a place in the rocky land of the soul.

Natalia Corres is a writer, artist and tech whisperer who reads voraciously and enjoys life with a husband, and their pets. You can read her poetry and general musings at “Wind in her mane” and on her website “Words to Live By“.

Udo- 
by LaVerne Lovelady
 
Sweet honeysuckle and hummingbirds
and whippoorwills in distant groves;
bumblebees and garden peas,
and cotton growing in jagged rows;
coal-oil lamps and water wells,
the smell of cornbread in the air;
gentle red cows and mean old sows,
and a magnificent sorrel mare;
the peanut crop and sugar cane,
sounds of workers in the field,
the weighing rack for the cotton sack,
the one my mother wields;
lightening bugs and crawdad tails,
and neon lights from a near-by town;
sticky red clay on a rainy day,
a soothing mist over silent ground;
bold adventures and daring games
of riding young saplings to the ground.
 
Unbridled Days and my brother’s praise
are lost to millennial sound.
 

LaVerne Lovelady is a 30-year veteran teacher of English and Interpretive Fiction. Her poems, essays, memoirs, and political commentary have been published in various publications through the years, including the WOK Anthology 2017 and CWC Literary Review.  Her first novel The Quay Question was recently published.    LaVerne is a native Oklahoman, a direct descendant of the Alabama Creek Path Cherokees. She lives in Bakersfield with three adorable cats: Soo-Lin, Siam, and Miss Kitty.

Justice Sleeps
By A. L. Stone
 
Hold open the door and peer into the darkness
See the truth hanging in the air
Bodies dangling, jaws repeat
“There is no love for you here and no change is on its way.”
Oh, the horrors we subject each other to
The things we tolerate and yet remain silent.
 
And where is Justice?
Asleep beneath the porch
While a blaze of hatred rages on
Casting fiery bars through the floorboards.
She is imprisoned and yet dreams sweetly.
She is abandoned and yet feels right at home.
 
Justice does not live and breathe on her own,
but through our breath and our words.
She is animate only by the marching of our feet and the raising of our hands.
She thinks only as our hearts demand
An avatar for what resides within the consciousness of the living,
Justice is as we say,
or not.
 
In the absence of belief in the worth of ourselves,
reflected on the faces of the lynched and starving,
The forgotten and cast out,
Justice rests
while we remain asleep.
Won’t you wake her?

Amanda Stone’s writing spans from children’s picture books to adult fiction to poetry. In 2019, she received the Writers of Kern Peggy Connelly Scholarship for her young adult fiction. When not working on her own projects, she provides online support for people struggling to reconnect with their creativity at www.weareawakenedcreators.com.

T H E   C A N A L
by Nelson Varon
 
In front, gigantic, water-tight doors,
Like a foreboding cliff fifty feet above us,   
Shroud the light from the mid-day sun.
                                                                               
Behind, duplicate solid steel monsters,  
Flaming rust creeping like spiders on their weathered surfaces,
Close imperceptibly to seal us within towering walls of concrete.
 
Slowly the water rises within our crypt-like enclosure
Elevating our impotent vessel to the level of the
Hulking mass before us as it resumes its journey westward.  

In addition to being a musician and a writer of song lyrics & poems, Nelson Varon was a NYC school teacher, the founder of Nelson Varon Organ Studios in NYC,       a published songwriter & author of PlayNow Method For All Organs. He wrote  feature articles for The Music Trades  magazine, and How to Open a Piano & Organ Store (a chapter in the industry publication, How To Open A Music Store) and the short story, Fixing Things.  He was also the founder, publisher & editor of The Music & Computer Educator magazine, and the founder of Kern Piano Mall, in Bakersfield.

COVID-19
by Anke Hodenpijl

 the doctor checks my labs,
 “Good to go,” she said
 I breathe with relief,
 eager to escape this breeding ground
 - door knobs, pens, magazines, chairs,
 even the toilet paper - hosts for the enemy
  
 I push the door with my derriere
 like a quarterback
 I backpedal
 dodge the incoming person
 and veer to my Honda
  
 Antiseptic towels at the ready,
 hands sanitized,
 I sing my twenty second song,
 claim a virus-free victory
  
  
 What’s that under my car?
  
 a red wallet.
  
 I scrub it with antiseptic,
 (crush those pathogens)
 a drivers license falls out
  
 it belongs to Edna
 I am sure she is inside that booby trapped office
 a fellow patient, 
 behind all those hazards
 fodder for my new-found anxiety
  
 my options play in slow motion
 look to the right
 look to the left
 the parking lot is empty
 no receiver to take the pitch
  
 I.          Go.      Back.
  
 Is Edna here?  

Anke Hodenpijl is a bedside singer, poet, gardener and safe spot for animals. She is inspired by nature, family, history, friendships and unfinished stories. Mostly, she is a grateful person.