The rainbow wheel spinning
I curse at waiting for the folder to open
looks exactly like it feels
when I’m trying to finish one quick thing
and my husband is calling me to dinner.
If you’re spinning the wheel God
I should not be cursing
at the revelation appearing on my screen
praising the colors throwing off light
a personal prayer wheel
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chanting Om mane padme hum
every time it appears
heralding what’s in the machine
I’ve waited seven days for this dogwood
to unfurl its white cups, to drink the light
it gathers. Other flowers have passed
their season, our path matted
with pink rhodie remnants,
but the dogwood shows off
in open space between cedar
Sun fills each cup as I witness
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from shaded days steeped in protests
heated to burning, to melting,
to truth yelling and tears.
First light through the curtains
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I find myself simultaneously
four billion years old
and newly made as bread dough.
on my face are spacetime,
my bed aloft on cosmic riptides.
From here I can see every particle
entangled with every other particle.
From here, reality is infinity
expressed in intricate calculations.
Wilderness You call to me and I go. I leave my compass; I know North. I leave my rosary; my faith is in your Aurora Borealis. I’ll follow your light through the foothills. The spines of leaves shiver, emerald pools show me the way. I pray. For you, I’d catch a fish in my teeth. […]
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The Secret Lives of Things I want to learn from slime molds How they take the shape Of tapioca or icicles or pretzels Pink toothpaste, brown cigars Sucking nutrients From rotting leaves and wood And then become blue crusts Yellow splotches, tawny curlicues And vanish. Their weird diversity and transience Speak to me of beauty […]
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Nature is Calling Grass of mysterious light, Do you become dry from lack of love? Nature has this bearing on all of us, Take out a white paper. Draw the red cardinal bird Singing wet songs for your neighbors. Purple lilacs left a trace of dry dirt But for once They were alive with love […]
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Diane Puterbaugh lives in Jackson, TN where she practices meditation and trains for marathons. Diane has completed a chapbook titled 31 and is working on another, Contrails. She often enjoys black coffee, bird watching, and a certain brown dog. Careless Light Pre-dawn reading tip tap Will transform One story into two forward toward The dark […]
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Dreaming Through the Dark During the long twilight of winter I become a bulb in the ground— small & still inside myself. I close my eyes, swimming in darkness, willing the pinprick of light to expand until I am my own sun.
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Thomas Fucaloro is the author of two books of poetry published by Three Rooms Press, most recently It Starts from the Belly and Blooms. The winner of a performance grant from the Staten Island Council of the Arts and the NYC Department of Cultural Affairs, he has been on five national slam teams. He holds an […]
Read more "Using my own light to see allows me to see the world how I want it to be"
Don Clermont currently holds a B.A. in French literature and has published literary research in Bishop’s University’s Journal of Eastern Townships Studies. As an emerging writer, he has also published poetry in SUNY Plattsburgh’s Z-Platt, 50 Haikus and Z Publishing House’s New York’s Best Emerging Poets. A few of his favorite contemporary poets are Nick Laird, Lloyd Schwartz, and Maria Nazos. Describing […]
Read more "Describing the Beach to an Android"