POETRYrepairshop v06.06:066

Blinders & Namesakes by DOUG MACLEOD

contact DOUG MACLEOD PS : to sponsor poetry visit Poetry Sponsors

DOUG MACLEOD Blinders & Namesakes A dying father told his son To die more each day is heavenly To feel each moment pass away Words can not describe it His life before meant nothing The pieces, they did not fit & now that they have found their place A smile coats his dying face The son, though grown, has yet to find An outlet for his dreamy visions His father dreamt in black & white His father made decisions & the cancer that dines on his brain Paints his sleeping world with colors The pictures make him wake in pain He decides he won't recover He's a man who thrives on normalcy The blinders serve a purpose He's fantasized in secrecy Of walking his sons footsteps But could he tell that to his namesake? The one that he gave life to In color he sees his mistakes The blinders, his son sees through The son respects his father's ways But this too can't be voiced & as his father counts his days His son, at last, has made a choice In between each gasping breath, his father's eyes, they shine The loving son clasps a cold hand & promises to be colorblind & when his father breathes no more That's the last breath he will too take & he will pray that they will meet No blinders and no namesakes Copyright 2006, all rights retained by the poet

poetryREPAIRshop

Pebbles by ASHOK GUPTA

'I live in Jakarta, Indonesia .Some of my poems have been published in e-zines like Poetry Repair Shop (V0309), Epiphany, Liberty Grove Review, Poetry Billboard, FZQuarterly, Ken*again, Wilmingtonblues, WickedAlice, Slowtrains and in print in Reflections and Times of India. Some poems are also accepted by , Paumanok Review and Muse Apprentice Guild.' contact ASHOK GUPTA PS : to sponsor poetry visit Poetry Sponsors Auntie's Beads & Aunt Petie's, Inc.

ASHOK GUPTA Pebbles The pebbles we picked along the path from gardens and the earth, selected, compared, exchanged polished and preserved were of different colours, shapes textures and dreams. The pebbles we treasured like gems in our overburdened pockets inspite of mothers' screams have all gone into the concrete of the paved towncentre and where we once threw the flat ones skipping across the pond in seven, eight, eleven tips is a colossus of glass and aluminium the CityPlaza the tallest building in the town. Copyright 2006, all rights retained by the poet

poetryrepairSHOP

Windy Histories by RUTH DAIGON

Ruth Daigon was founder and editor of POETS ON: for twenty years until it ceased publication. Her poems have been widely published in E mags, print mags, anthologies and collections: Daigon's poetry awards include "The Ann Stanford Poetry Prize, 1997 (University of Southern California Anthology, 1997) and the Greensboro Poetry Award (Greensboro Arts Council, 2000). The latest of seven books is "Payday At The Triangle" (Small Poetry Press, Select Poets Series) based on the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire in New York City,1911 and one of her many readings was performed in The Lower East Side Tenement Museum in Manhattan, the area where the fire occurred. "Handfuls of Time" (Small Poetry Press, Select Poets Series), her last book, was published in 2002, Her poetry was published by the State department in their literary exchange with Thailand and their translation program has just issued the first book of Modern American poets in English and Thai in which she appears. Garrison Keillor featured her poetry on his morning poetry show contact Ruth Daigon PS : to sponsor poetry visit Poetry Sponsors Flies on the Web

RUTH DAIGON Windy Histories As afternoon tilts toward evening and the underside of calm, a window invites distance where the stars arrive from their own journeys where footsteps sound under the sea. and the body tumbles through flecks of time. We watch the moon cuts loose tailed by a consort of stars. We hear the forest singing in a thousand voices enticing creatures into flight and tempting us until all that we know is motion. A toothed wind streaks across the cheek of sky trailed by air born dust echoes of eEEarth swimming worms and roots holding hard and spreading spreading. Windy histories tear loose from the present and speed toward the future. Sound scatters the air. And somewhere in the world when animals step into stillness thoughts rise volatile as dandelion fluff pungent with time And a breeze latent in twilight washes us in gusts of memory Copyright 2006, all rights retained by the poet

	Thank you for reading PoetryRepairShop 06.06:066	PartsDept ( site navigation ) AboutPoetry | Archives | Awards | Bravenet | Copyright 2006 | Counter | CURRENT | Dictionary+ | Forums | FRAME Escape! Guestbook | GuestMap | Guidelines | Hangman| Home | Horvath.ws MailRoom | | Messages | News (BIG) | PoetrySponsors=PSbanners, PSboxes, PSbuttons, PSlinks, PSearch PoetsGold | PoetsIndex | Posters | Quotation | PRSearch Submit | SUBSCRIBE | WebRings 06.06: navigation 061 | 062 | 063 | 064 | 065 | 066 | 067 | 068 | 069 | 070 | 071 | 072 prior 12 issues 06.05 | 06.04 | 06.03 | 06.02 | 06.01 | 05.01 | 04.09 | 04.08 | 04.07 | 04.06 | 04.06 | 04.04 | 04.03 | | | Bitsandpieces.com |