the Editor's Pages
Jennifer VanBuren
painting by Curtis
My Blog:
Vinegar and Brown Paper
Samples of Photography:
Vinegar and Brown Paper
Samples of Photography:
Links to my Poetry:
New:
Frigg
Tilt Choosing the Spare Centrifugal Eye Wicked Alice Stirring Hiss Quarterly admit 2 Artistry of Life: Featured writer Winter 2006
Mastodon Dentist Poetry Niederngasse: interpoetry branches
Loch Raven Review
Winter 2005
Word Riot turk magazine eclectica Carnelian Verse Libre Quarterly ken*again 10,000 monkeys Pemmican Unlikely Stories2 JMWW deep cleveland junkmail oracle |
zygote in my coffee Literary Mama from East to West Erosha
thieves jargon
angry poet Poetry Superhighway the Beat Strange Road Other online publications: NELincs Poetry Full Moon American feed Journal oysters and chocolate Humabout: At 94 Voracity ERWA Print:
Finalist: Euphoria's Annual Poetry Contest: Outlanders Pushcart Nomination: Another Missed Performance 
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Heat does not Rise Winter melt and spring rain fill the meadow pond as amphibians emerge from deep mud hibernation. Summer comes to open the upstairs for bed sleeping, the wall-to-wall mattress drawn tight with slick pink winter-stored satin. Tough tuck and sheet slide are witnessed by the spying alphabet quilt. A curious cat paw stretches under the locked door. We know it is not heat but hot air that rises up steps, through abandoned pipe holes in floor boards and water-stained cracks in the ceiling. Invitations are whispered from molecules in motion to join in the natural convection. I follow one step behind, up to the summer room. Toes wiggle warm together under blankets and give congratulations for having made it back another year. Fingers soon follow the parade that moves inward as we stretch and tangle together in the first satin swim of summer. Quiet now, we hear the all amphibian chorus serenade us through wide opened windows. You sleep without concern for the long days that will dry the meadow pond. Soon enough all that will remain are cracked trails in the mud used for the moist migration, all songs packed into tight tissue until spring returns. 10,000 monkeys monkey #134 Eel skin bound set out, propped up by reputation he discovers onion skin eyelids filter more when open wide, pupil slit narrows and tongue flicks the air for a taste of pressurized jasmine that sends the signal move along, there is nothing worth biting here and certainly, it is a well known fact, verse bound in eel skin stands more of a chance of being fondled by lady fingers that linger over perpendicular lines, upright and leather tight straight to reptilian brain and she says, to thick skin a bite is as good as a kiss...
better
translucent skin stretched over the hollow of her back
tattooed on the inside  |
 beyond naked To be the one, the fearless, she who swears love upon love trials over decision, no other. To be free of chain mail vest and glove; to stand not only naked but inside out- out in love. Love lies waiting for invitation, to be told, you are worth the risk. Such safe sleeping, the monsters sniff sleeping fingers and know, this is not the night for terror. This is the night of confession, to fall backwards without doubt strong arms will catch and cushion. Trust is the wires that levitate, love holds pulleys and ropes. Suspended weightless fearless, knowing you are my best poetry, my best lines of holding and being held. Poetry Superhighway For hours upon For hours upon river weeds we tread, knowing below our feet lie sunken answers to what might have beens that stare up, hollow faced while their blackened fingernails claw our soles. Twice we watch tendrils wrap our legs as they dangle drunk with fermented seduction. We will their dissolve, test the strength of our acceptance. this is all there is One more breath before submersion, we count bubbles, and follow the last ones into delirious consent. |