Free Poems & Other Creative Matter
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Alchemist

Sing, earth-captured starlight

Purest light to touch the earth

Purest light to flow through day and night

To flood our sense-zone;

Sing through my blinking tubes and phials,

All potions, never poured;

Yet all suffused in afterthought.

My litmus-jewels, made one by burning faces,

turning suns,

That charred the fixed eye, the rooted touch.

Bodies I gel, not cruelly liquefy,

Nor form from glass-defined portions;

I move them, through their opaqueness in my eyes

to their own whole frames and shapes;

Cast by a mould beyond the maker here,

the measurer

And yet exhausting first their full extent.

Fill out, oneself a phial,

Fluted to slender siphoning, a line, a moving;

Love-cornering the loving, clinging eye,

Love cornering skins in darkness, parched and bleached;

Locked in through small breedings

in clean-forgotten courses,

The moss, the earth-polluted tubes, the same.

David Russell

-from his collection Speculum

David Russell is a singer-songwriter, frequently published online in International Times.

ACADIA

the streets
switch at midnight

and we bounce along the February roads of Wolfville
(three tonnes of camper van)

in the blink 
of a cat’s eye

we run over a skunk

the odour gland
explodes upon the back axle

embraces the vinyl interior
like a song

by Halifax
we are imagining unicorns and roses

Gareth Writer-Davies

Letchworth Garden City, Herts, UK

Williams Would Understand

 

So much depends

Upon my wife’s bag of Cheetos

With its artificial colors—

Including yellow 6,

Unopened in the brown kitchen cabinet.

 

This is just to say I found them—

And addictions cannot be trusted.

I know to whom these orange-dusted 

Beauties belong.

 

Only a puritan could resist

Such cheesy flavored tidbits.

Yes—it was quite wrong of me to eat them,

But they were so crunchy; so insistent.

And so generous in forgiveness.  
 

Daniel Klawitter


Author Bio: Daniel has a BA from the College of Santa Fe in New Mexico and a Master of Divinity from The Iliff School of Theology in Denver.  A member of the Colorado Poets Center, he is the author of two full-length poetry collections: 

A Poet Playing Doctor (2015)and Plato Poetica (forthcoming in spring, 2017), both published by White Violet Press, as well as a chapbook of children’s poems entitled Put On Your Silly Pants: Poems for Children and Very Immature Adults (Daffydowndilly Press, fall, 2016). He is also the lead singer and lyricist for the indie-rock band, Mining for Rain: www.miningforrain.com

A Note about Starting Up

and the work you find here on

Free for All

 

The thing is, when Abundance, A Harvest of Life, Literature & the Arts and Sleeping Bear Press were in their heyday (1998-2002), we received hundreds of submissions, but as we are brand new, we are still in the dozens. Fortunately, we are now listed in Poets & Writers, as a paying market for poetry, so maybe we will start getting hundreds again.

The problem is, that as our budget is limited to how much I have left over  after the mortgage and groceries, and to the astounding kindness of a few  folks who have actuallly clicked on the Donate button. We are not, in any way affiliated with any funding source, we are not selling ads, at least not at this point.

The  ads you see are all gratis to promote the various enterprses of one Al Filreis and his amazing band of literary gueriellas who have turned the staid ivy league  campus of U Penn, better know for its school of medicine and its Wharton School of Business into this  hotbed ofall things cretive, and especially poetry. His Modern Poetry class taught on Coursera for free has changed my life, so I like to promote it and the rest of his cool stuff wherever  I can.

We do want to pay for poetry and we look forward to our tiny contribution to paying for work, but if you want to be part of BTS in the future, you double your chances if you select, please pay, but please consider for publication in "Free for All", too.

The poetry  that ends up on Free for All is not second class, not the "also rans." though sometimes we  might publish something a little more  experimental and not exactly to the editor's taste here, because the  internet offers nearly unlimited space and because it doesnt stress our budget, but more often than not, they are of equal quality, but we have depleted our funds for the month.

Local Poetry  Readings

 

Wherever local is to you, please send us your local poetry reading venue, be it traditional stand up poetry, slam, spoken word, or even a quiet circle in a living room reading quaint verses. If you know of live poetry anywhere, send it to us and we will post it here!

Cover Art from David Russell's Speculum

N O L I M E T A N G E R E 

 

and now

the point in time is a wave

washing over THE ME

leaving THE ME washed over

 

the pearl of thoughts

dry on the skin

 

there is nobody to share

 

empty minded eyes stare ahead

empty sounded ears strain into memory below

 

there is nobody to share

 

THE ME feet stay stopped where they were

when the tsunami rolled over THE ME

being now a breathing automaton

 

there is nobody to share

 

solitude is adventure

of the numbing kind

 

where are the eyes THE ME eyes

needed for contact

 

where are the hands

THE ME skin needed for caressing

 

where is the sound of steps

of feet walking beside THE ME

 

the wave catapulted from the sudden realm

 

shock will have an aftermath

of pain

of suffering

of denial

of anger

of bargaining

of dawning

of axeptance

 

new steps

will carry THE ME mind

along untrodden paths

 

 

N O L I M E T A N G E R E 

 

und nun…

der punkt in der zeit ist eine welle

die über

DAS UNS

spülte

und DAS ICH bleibt überspült zurück

 

die perlen von gedanken

trocknen auf der haut

 

da ist niemand da der mir zuhört

 

geistesleere augen starren hinaus

tonleere ohren suchen kontakt mit der erinnerung da unten

 

da ist niemand da der mir zuhört

 

DAS ICH

füsse bleiben stehen

als die tsunami über

DAS UNS

wogte

und ist nun ein automat mit atem

 

da ist niemand da der mir zuhört

 

einsamkeit ist abenteuer

der betäubenden art

 

und da sind die

DAS ICH

augen die kontakt brauchen

 

und da sind 

DAS ICH

hände die Haut brauchen für zärtliche berührung

 

und da ist das geräusch von schritten

von

DAS UNS

füssen die nicht neben

DAS ICH

gehen

 

die welle katapultierte aus dem plötzlichen jetzt

 

schock wird ein nachbeben bringen

von schmerz

von leiden

von ablehnen

von verweigern

von zorn

von feilschen

von dämmern

von annehmen

neue schritte

werden den neuen

DAS ICH

geist entlang unbegangene wege führen

hewesufa teresa bencinic

hewesufa teresa bencinic was born in merano altoadige, italia and has a working knowledge of several languages for she lived in 11 countries.

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

These poems, images or whatever are posted for your entertainment without compensation to, but with permission but the creator.

Please do not reuse without permission of the creator, and without noting "Published by Better than Starbucks".