It's just poetry, it won't bite

Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays, Nocturnal Labor

06.30.12 Posted in Contributor Series 11, today's words by

Contributor Series 11: On BirthdaysNocturnal LaborBy Mary Harwell SaylerNight gives birth to thought,dilates the mind’s womb,bringing forth issues. Mary Harwell Sayler’s most recent poem to appear here was Charcoal Portrait of an Actress, published as part of Contributor Series 10: Silken Rags, in December 2011.


Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays, On Your Twelfth Birthday

06.29.12 Posted in Contributor Series 11, today's words by

Contributor Series 11: On BirthdaysOn Your Twelfth BirthdayBy Laura Zucca-ScottIt’s your twelfth birthdayI see the lines on your faceAnd try to imagine the man you will beI celebrate and fearThe many tomorrowsAnd tangled futures I don’t want to see you give upThinking it is not possibleI wish I could tell you how it can beSo […]


Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays, Maryanne

06.28.12 Posted in today's words by

Contributor Series 11: On BirthdaysMaryanneBy Isabel SylvanThere’s a photograph of a birthday I don’t remember.I was holding up three fingers for the cameraas if it were all an accomplishment. Not the turningthree but the being able to hold up the right numberof fingers when told to do so for the camera. They used to say […]


Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays, Between

06.28.12 Posted in words to linger on by

Contributor Series 11: On BirthdaysBetweenBy Dee Thompson There were no baby monitors a half century ago when I appeared, Motherreminded me.I had not considered it, but it’s true of course.Mothers simply listened. Knew the cries,the fretful wail, the full-throated scream, the whimper.Birth was more clinical. Babies were not so rare and precious, just boom-dropped, oneamong […]


Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays, Foolish Love

06.27.12 Posted in Contributor Series 11, today's words by

Contributor Series 11: On BirthdaysFoolish LoveBy Cathy DouglasThe animal at my breastis our shot at perfection,though neither cute nor very small.Whatever possessed us?The abyss of his eyesreveals none of your mechanical abilityor my perfect pitch,just the reflection of a truthlike us. In the wake of ecstatic birthwe find we have replicatedmy tartness, your dissatisfaction.He coils […]