Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The Milk Saucer, a poem by T.D. Richards

The Milk Saucer
by T.D. Richards   

The old woman cries out in her sleep
to the old man who has gone,  leaving
his ears in the drawer. She opens her
eyes, and the cat with a broken heart
is pressed against her mottled skin
stroking her thin wrist with breath.
She recalls tiger lilies in the green
depression glass vase he won at
carnival--tossing pennies
into the milk
saucer.

Bio: “I have lived in Indiana most of my life. I have had three careers that have lead me to value the importance of observation, hence my love of poetry now.”

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Livestock, a poem by Jared Carter

Livestock
by Jared Carter


At journey’s end, forced to debark
          and follow ramps
That funnel them down through the dark,
          into a damp,

Benighted place, where sharpened knives
          await – they go,
In single file, their route devised
          so none can know

In minutes they will all be dead.
          They only mind
That what keeps prodding them ahead
          is from behind.

Bio: Jared Carter's most recent book is Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indianapolis.


Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Oda a la Bugamblia/Ode to the Bougainvillea, a poem in Spanish and English, by Karel Van Horn

Oda a la Bugambilia
by Karel Van Horn

Compañera flor,
eterna amiga,
te amo—eres
bella,
democrática
y fuerte.

Pequeña selva
de colores
inolvidables,
habitas macetas,
paredes y solares.

Acompañas fielmente
a la gente humilde,
en las ventanas de sus chozas,
en botes de café.

Festival de luces,
cobija viviente,
engalanas las bardas
de los pueblos olvidados.

Flor del desierto,
¡cómo te aguantas!
Creces con más ganas
bajo el sol abrazador.

Eterna amiga mía,
no dejes que te cambien,
te amo—eres
bella,
democrática y fuerte.



Ode to the Bougainvillea
by Karel Van Horn

Kindred flower,
eternal friend,
I adore you, for you’re
beautiful,
communal and
enduring.
  
Tiny jungle
of unforgettable hues,
you live in clay pots,
on village walls, in vacant lots.

Faithful neighbor
to the humble and the poor,
you’re in windows of their shanties,
in old tin coffee cans.

Festival of lights,
blanket full of blossoms,
you brighten the ancient adobe
of old, abandoned towns.

Flowering desert vine,
how you manage to survive!
You thrive with so much gusto
under the unforgiving sun.

Eternal friend of mine,
don’t ever change—ever.
I adore you, for you’re
beautiful,
communal
and enduring.


Bio: Karel Van Horn, Beech Grove, received her undergrad degree from Purdue University and graduate degrees from Ohio State University, specializing in Latin American literature. She has lived in Mexico City and Hermosillo, Mexico, where she taught Latin American literature at the University of Sonora. Once back in the U.S., she taught all levels of Spanish in Indianapolis Public Schools, where she developed a curriculum for Spanish for native speakers. Her poetic muses are social justice and Pablo Neruda.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Dillinger, a poem by Jared Carter

Dillinger
by Jared Carter


Out of the Biograph, its chill
          still lingering,
Out of that darkness, and the thrill
          such dreams can bring –

Into the neon night, her hand
          slipping away,
And all around you now they stand,
          as if to say

This is the way it always ends
          when bankers rule –
The world reduced to dividends,
          the blood in pools.

Bio: Jared Carter's most recent book is Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems (University of Nebraska Press). He lives in Indianapolis.