Thursday, June 21, 2018

the void

by chuck leary

a bird flew across the sky

then another

then another

a pigeon landed on the roof

then another

then another

juan delivered a pizza

then another

willie delivered an american grinder with fries

maurice got up

then went back to bed

then maurice got up again

maurice remembered carol

i’ll kill hat bitch, he said to himself

actually he said it aloud, but nobody heard him

down the hall jack got up

then he went back to bed

a pigeon landed on the roof

then another

juan delivered another pizza

willie took a break and called charlene

a bird flew across the sky

and then another

an ant crawled across the sidewalk

and then another

this is just a small sample

people say life is mysterious

but what is so mysterious about it?

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

kitten up a tree

by chuck leary

o mother mother must i die
yes my child and here is why
birds no longer fill the skies
and the seas begin to rise

kittens no longer climb up trees
or butterflies float on the breeze
grandma’s recipe for cherry pie
is lost and forgotten (sigh)

i fear that since i saw you last
the present has destroyed the past
humans have run out of room
and are ruled by an empire of doom

i have to say this makes me sad
you were the only child i had
living in the only universe
and things are steadily getting worse

i can’t remember, though i try
if i was the kitten or the butterfly
if you were the tree i climbed
or only the blue sky i left behind

Monday, June 18, 2018

the shadow

by horace p sternwall

a beggar, sitting in the shade of a bridge, watched a traveler approach.

the traveler’s shadow fell on the bridge.

o traveler, cried the beggar, give me what i want.

the traveler, not breaking stride as he crossed the bridge, laughed.

but i do not know what you want, the traveler replied, not glancing down at the beggar.

i want whatever you have, cried the beggar - a bird, a bag of gold, a book with pretty colored pictures, your soul, your memories, a letter to the emperor testifying to my unique worth, a mythical beast, immortal life - anything.

i have a shadow, said the traveler, laughing, you can have that.

and the traveler’s shadow stayed behind on the bridge for a few seconds after the traveler had crossed it.

the beggar reached for the shadow but the sun went down and the shadow vanished.

the beggar continued to sit beside the bridge for many years, calling to the travelers who crossed it to give him what he wanted, to give him anything they had.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

2 more poems

by horace p sternwall

around the fireplace

up in the city, down on the farm
a rollicking yarn will do you no harm
around the fireplace, listen to the rain
and a tale with the wallop of a freight train

and what really makes a story go best
is the introduction of a mystery guest
whose sudden appearance always must
alter the entire narrative thrust

come on grandpa, do we really have to wait
a whole week to hear the hero's fate?
and grandpa sez, don't holler, don't shout
just stayed tuned - and find out b

water in the stream

who will save the last wanderer
when he falls in the last stream
who will wake the dreamer
dreaming the last dream

i fell in the gutter
and the gutter kept flowing
i, like the water
do not know where i’m going

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

2 poems

by horace p sternwall

dream of a hero

in the insane rioting of his soul
he knew he had to play the role
of a debonair lothario
and go on with the show

as the huns rode over the hill
he stood perfectly still
and with the trace of a smile
said "darling, i may be a while"

"not too long, darling, please"
she sank to her satin covered knees
through the french window he strolled
to a sunset red and gold

where are the heroes of yesteryear?
who laughed at fate and smiled at fear?
and what would they now defend?
for, alas, we have come to the end

the garden is barren of flowers
the day is bereft of hours
the telephone in the drawing room
waits for a call from an empty tomb

a vision of erernity

i dreamed i went to heaven
and all the seats were taken
st peter smiled and shook my hand
’twas then i did awaken

i wish i could remember
what st peter had to say
for it would surely comfort me
on yet another dreary day

Sunday, March 25, 2018


by chuck leary

illustrations by roy dismas

i remember when men were men
and women batted their lashes
and that was a world, a great world
but now it has turned to ashes

i remember when men were g i joe
and krauts and japs were patsies
and the g i s stormed the beaches
and saved the world from the nazis

i remember when john wayne
roamed the jungles of iwo jima
and died like a hero at the alamo
with other gallant old timers

and dirty harry asked all punks
if they felt lucky today
and the punks were grateful he let them live
because that was the american way

but none of that remains
because everything has changed
now men are women and women are men
and the world will never be the same again

where are the mad scientists
the vampires with their kisses
the werewolves howling at the moon
the heroes defying fate and doom

they are only a little way down the road
in history’s big green dumpster
i see you there on top of the bridge
but there is no need to jump, sir!

every world that ever existed
is down there in the street
and if you listen to the clouds
you can hear their dancing feet

Friday, March 23, 2018


by wiggly jones, "the little hippie boy"

i wrote a poem
and explained everything real good
but nobody paid attention
nobody understood

i told them what was wrong
and how to make it right
but now i sit alone
in my little room at night

i hear coyotes howling
or maybe they’re just cats
or people banging garbage cans
with baseball bats

whatever it is
they make a lot of noise
and show a great indifference
to simple peaceful joys

the world is a symphony
of self-generating altercation
the train is off the tracks
but people wait at the station

maybe if they all listened
to my message of love
the oceans would vanish in a puff of smoke
and the skies cave in above