February Poems

Katherine Mansfield’s Unattainable Wish

By Carolyn Howard-Johnson

Katherine Mansfield wished
she could be all that I am capable
of being, Did she reach that leaf
at the end of the twig, there, there!
in a forest of high-grown
trees, and if she didn’t
does it matter? Do we grasp
such a tender bud only
when we finally merge
with others' souls who
also reach for a fervent moment?
If she did realize being, touch it
taste it, would she have known?
Would she have reached still again
without having celebrated the pleasure
of her best moment?

Carolyn Howard-Johnson has published a chapbook of poetry with Finishing Line Press. Tracings was honored for excellence by the Military Writers' Society of America and the book was named to the Compulsive Reader's Top 10 Reads list. It is available at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1599240173/ref=cm_arms_pdp_dp
She blogs on War. Peace. Tolerance. And Our Soldiers. http://www.warpeacetolerance.blogspot.com.

Window Frame
By Janet Grace Riehl

The bird show is Mother's main entertainment
while she reclines on her plush throne.

Something...that delights her.
The show playing outside the window
links her to a past she no longer remembers.

Technically, that is.
Her mouth can't form the words
to tell of bird trips around the world,
spotting scope slung over her shoulder
and binoculars superglued to her hands.

But, she knows.
I can see it.
"The birds," she murmurs,
and, her face lights up.

The sun, higher in the sky now,
still a blinding ball in the heavens.
But yellow, not orange.
There's not much display this morning
as it rises above the fog.

Of course we know the sun
isn't really rising.
This phrase...is a remnant
from when we thought the world was flat.
And, if we sailed...too far,
we'd drop off...the edge...of the world.

This excerpt is from WINDOW FRAME by Janet Grace Riehl published in "Sightlines: A Poet's Diary" and
dedicated to Ruth Evelyn Johnston Thompson, Janet’s mother (January 4, 1916-May 1, 2006)

Last Wish
By Dennis Martin

I’ve made wishes on a star,
Thrown pennies in a fountain,
Looked deep into a wishing well
To make my longings known,
Rubbed lamps expecting swirly smoke
To conjure up a set of three,
Even lifted silent prayers
When I was all alone.

Children’s play, these expectations,
Careless folly edged with greed,
Birthday wishes blowing candles,
Secrets no one else may know.
Pull a wishbone with your sister
Hoping for the shorter stem,
Or was it the longer?
Can’t remember in truth.
It was so long ago.

Whatever divine sorcery
Can make a fervent wish come true,
My wish, my one last wish would be
Just one more day
To spend with you.


A Connected Awareness
by Hal Manogue

Captivating Laughter
Is
The Face of Love
It Drips Between the Crevices
Of Knowing
Each Giggle Rings
A Bell of Freedom

Vibrations
Match Themselves in Numbers
Crossing the Vastness of Nothing
In Synchronicity
Carrying DNA in Mystical Strands
Of Being

A Connected Awareness
Kisses Itself in Dreams
Falling
Into The Well of Oneness

Embracing
The Essence of Remembering
The Dance of Friendship
Begins
Where It Left Off

Holding Love
In Magic Memories
And Moments in Absolute Bliss
Dripping In Delight
The Energy of Consciousness
Brings
Thoughts to Life
And
Purpose to Love

Howard (Hal) Thomas Manogue, was born in Philadelphia, and is a forerunner to the Indigo children, a now age term for misfit with an intuitive nature, a desire to know his truth with a gift of giving and sharing. Hal retired from the shoe industry after 35 years of soul searching, and discovered his real soul. He enjoys art, music, philosophy, psychology, nature and people. His poems have been published by: Mystic Pop Magazine, Children Of The New Earth Magazine, New Age Tribune, Seasons Of The Soul Newsletters, Lightship News and Writers In The Sky Newsletters. His essays can be found on www.ezinearticles.com and www.selfgrowth.com . Hal’s Blog and Website: http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/ www.shortsleeves.net He lives in Franklin, Tennessee.