Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?/ I also say it is good to fall... battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won." -- Walt Whitman. This issue of the poetry magazine is from 2005 with poems by Donald Lev, Fran Farrell Kraft, Richard A. Spiegel, James Pehna, Herman Slotkin, Joan Payne Kincaid, David Koehn, Shannon Connor, Geoff Stevens, Jeanne M. Whalen, Greg Moglia, Robert L. Brimm, Ida Fasel, and D.M. Ross.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?/ I also say it is good to fall... battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won." -- Walt Whitman. This issue of the poetry magazine is from 2005 with poems by Donald Lev, Fran Farrell Kraft, Richard A. Spiegel, James Pehna, Herman Slotkin, Joan Payne Kincaid, David Koehn, Shannon Connor, Geoff Stevens, Jeanne M. Whalen, Greg Moglia, Robert L. Brimm, Ida Fasel, and D.M. Ross.
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day?/ I also say it is good to fall... battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won." -- Walt Whitman. This issue of the poetry magazine is from 2005 with poems by Donald Lev, Fran Farrell Kraft, Richard A. Spiegel, James Pehna, Herman Slotkin, Joan Payne Kincaid, David Koehn, Shannon Connor, Geoff Stevens, Jeanne M. Whalen, Greg Moglia, Robert L. Brimm, Ida Fasel, and D.M. Ross.
Waterways: Poetry in the Mainstream, Volume 25, #10
Have you heard that it was good to gain the day? I also say it is good to fall . . . battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won. Walt Whitman 1 WATERWAYS: Poetry in the Mainstream Volume 25 Number 10* Designed, Edited and Published by Richard Spiegel & Barbara Fisher Thomas Perry, Admirable Factotum c o n t e n t s Waterways is published 11 times a year. Subscriptions -- $33 for 11 issues. Sample issues $3.50 (includes postage). Submissions will be returned only if accompanied by a stamped, self addressed envelope. Waterways, 393 St. Pauls Avenue, Staten Island, New York 10304-2127 2005 Ten Penny Players Inc. *(This magazine is published 5/05) http://www.tenpennyplayers.org Donald Lev 4-5 Fran Farrell Kraft 6 Richard A. Spiegel 7 James Penha 8 Herman Slotkin 9 Joan Payne Kincaid 10-11 David Koehn 12-13 Shannon Connor 14-18 Geoff Stevens 19 Jeanne M Whalen 20-22 Greg Moglia 23 Robert L. Brimm 24-25 Ida Fasel 26 D. M. Ross 27-28 p h o t o
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F i s h e r The Test Donald Lev Put down that water. Dont come any closer. We shall see what youre made of. Yes, I need assistance. No way to ascend or descend. No way to learn. No way to escape. Push, push, push on air. Im waiting for a bus. A bus comes by every four or five minutes. It is never the right one. But when the right bus comes itll be good. Ill sit 4 comfortably and look out the window at the houses and shops, the fields and gas stations till a destination is reached. A conclusion, perhaps. Perhaps not. Ill climb off the bus and begin walking. Ill check my wristwatch to see how little time is left. There ought to be something to hurry for, something to risk missing out on, to be late for. I have arrived at no conclusion. Ill simply fold things up and turn out the light. I will set the clock as an experiment to see if the alarm goes off. 5 Musings Fran Farrell Kraft So you say White when I say Black (Did we ever deal in gray) Was that one of the things I first loved about you A freewheeling mind An unwillingness to conform Have we changed Are you even more contrary Do I require full agreement Have we just got bored grown apart Should I say White when I see Black Should we both just say Good bye Or is it too late 6 Richard A. Spiegel It is a moment of no consequence a moist bead of time hanging from the tap. Do you mind if I borrow it? Set it on my easel. A moment left on the canvas. Place your time beside mine. Ill train my wrist to untangle the tock. A single moment multiplied, burst out of now. The pulse attached to a string, a brush, or a pen impulsively across the synapse. Thoughts, half-forgotten, are given body. In an instant the moment moves on. 7 Omelette: You Cant Make One Without James Penha Cracking a chicken egg or duck. Breaking it; crushing it in your hand: shell shards and shrapnel your diner will mine minutely on his palate. Thinking about it without a worry for purity: letting the yolk explode taint white now runny together from fist to bowl like a helmet upside down. Washing your hands of it. 8 Moving Moments Herman Slotkin In lifes sure, seamless slide From second to second, Beginnings are endings, Endings are beginnings. When my boss says, Youre fired, In one flowing instant Unemployment says, Hi. When Carmen thrusts her rose, Instantaneously Carmens Jos begins And Micaelas ends. 9 Event Joan Payne Kincaid Today the trees gave up all that was wild laid down the primates vanished the last birds were silenced the whales stopped singing the innocent were erased the victors went to church 10 Ring Around The Rosy Joan Payne Kincaid The shower finally soothes the pain from too many falls landing on the same yelp a familiar ring in play allowing some leader to set - you - up on slippery mandatory no - way - around deja vu all over again after backwards down the stairs before the thongs were trashed for twisting around the betrayed grip and before that the trip to the identical place over a police barricade demonstration against wars in bed the hip remembers best the surprise debacle in a heap at the bottoms of things so now only the delicious liquid heat is what loves and attends. 11 The Complete Do-It-Yourself Manual David Koehn The walls and ceilings will age the color of piss; The floors will warp and you will accuse your dance partner. Baseboards will no longer corner, and keys will break off in the locks But no matter, the jalousies and the blinds will never need repair. Such openings, flawed by design, will never fail, Will always let the outside in: the chimney will never need a sweep, The gutters and downspouts will always gush, The houses forehead will never wrinkle with concern. No manual is needed for these: the plumbing, if it goes, it goes; The power, new circuits have been laid for others will burn out; 12 And the furniture, no den can ease the discomfort. No, only for this, does the Complete Do-it-yourself Manual apply Suspend a vent near the automatic overflow from a truss Above your bed so what escapes sleep may be recycled; Re-install all gauges so that system does not self-monitor; There are so few screwing applications. Do not forget The chapter on attaching to hollow surfaces, men. Allow only up flow. All air is central. The guarantees: Exercise without sweating, sex without love, Faith in nothing, and other hardware for necessary repairs. 13 Blackout Shannon Connor 8:54. Six minutes to go. The computer screen zeroes with a sad little whine. I step up, into the dark. The one string of emergency lights in the whole damn building is not where the people are. The system beckons, (Yes, Im coming) I slide my feet to the bottom of the stairs. Chaperoned by the railing, then I am free standing in nothing but the sound of the storm. 14 I smell it with my ears. It smells like new rain smacking eagerly against concrete, my mind expanding down the hall I follow the sound, tracing gravel along the wall from the bathroom to the vestibule but its longer than I thought It should behere, but its not and then I turn in time to see the nighttime come alive. 15 Sister forks of lightning split the sky wide open, pouring rocks of thunder. The lot, the valley, the hall light up like an electric ocean, and I am struck with just one thought rolling, over and over Brilliant Until I hear Al in the corridor searching slowly for me. Flashlights? he asks, disembodied In the closet wait I have a lighter, 16 I remember. With flame aloft, I lead the way a proper concert enthusiast to the beep beep beep of the alarms percussion Al turns owlish in the tiny light. He fills the doorway as I lift the lighter to the box. SYSTEM FAILURE, I repeat. NO SHIT. I grin privately from ear to ear. With a firm but reassuring finger, I silence the alarm and then the building falls quiet except for the rain and our suddenly reverent breathing. 17 I am aware that I am awake in the dark for the first time all day. 18 Geoff Stevens Battlefields have grown broader desertion is more difficult one needs to go further than the ends of the earth in order to escape them 19 Tunneling Jeanne M Whalen When Seattle went underground she had the insight to put skylights in the streets above the town, as if glass would compensate for inconceivable inconvenience paid for a simpler sewage system. Over the years, magnesium in the glass turned each pane purple and the empty alleys below bask in a royal hue. 20 When Detroit went underground she swallowed grandeur, gulped cocktails of industrys finest, tossed European olives and toothpicks into sprawling Ranch and Colonial barracks while flying banners of skeletal marble and iron - empty cocktail glasses for smoldering revolutionaries to smash rather than scour. The citys discarded garnishes forced their own obsolescence when they strained the soft limits between man and metal, soul and machine, but they still whisper and breathe, forming a skyline of ghosts 21 that beg for our eyes and our morbid curiosity. Lavish carpets that cushioned the fall of auto moguls have dropped thread after thread through too much space between rotting floorboards and windows cling to shards to resist the weather. Walls glow with angry graffiti, angry at the backwash dregs left to ferment in motor oil, lead paint, asbestos, but they still make babies downtown. 22 What a Body Would Do Greg Moglia If you must go she said Leave your hands Please leave your hands And I was not generous Kept all to myself Toured the land Wandered through every Midnight trap Found no light My hands singed By the flames Of emptiness What a body would do For less than love For less than love 23 Hungry Eyes Feasting Robert L. Brimm Awash in the buzz and crackle wafting from The Hillside Taverns enchanted neon signs, I wake to the sound of nothing in my room, Find the aching cold of yesterdays shoes, Then, exploring the halls echoing darkness Hear the ticking clock, the click of the lock Before I go strolling past houses haunted By the absence of dreams, empty windows Staring back, thousands of broken promises 24 That will not be mended not this night; Slowly I march to the song of something I can almost hear, feel its hungry eyes Feasting on me, sense its crouching, tensing, Preparing to pounce, and I dare not scream. 25 For Worse and Better Ida Fasel A mere stumble flings me aloft like a pebble snapped from a sling, but not so fast that I am not aware my face is heading for concrete, come what may. I streak down like a falling star a hundred weight thudding ground the equal of a ton in a shatter and scatter of glasses and purse a public spectacle in white rapidly red, blood pressure rising rising ambulance speeding speeding x-rays counting bones broken, angel stitching skin split open. It could have been my head. 26 Portrait of My Father As a Dog D. M. Ross for Kathi Vail Whenever my father enters a restaurant He turns into a dog Muzzle elevated Nostrils working moistly He plunges into a world of sounds and signals Most humans miss Alert to every movement Especially the double swinging doors that give on the kitchen My father ignores polite conversation around him In favor of cautionary guttural growls Warning off anyone who turns to look By curling his lip, exposing incisors 27 When a waitress approaches our table Armed with menus and a nervous smile Whether it is the tone of voice (May I tell you about our specials?) Or the apron Or the rectangular pad Or the scratch of the pen My fathers eyes dilate His ears shoot back, the hair on his neck rises And he emits barks in all directions Snarling, snapping, Alerting our family to the approach of danger And offering, in the bargain, the chance for everyone within earshot To approve his vigilance 28