The Blue Moon Review

home page
about BMR

 

NEW POETRY


David St. John

"...At the beach a dozen Buddhist monks in golden
Robes stepped out of three limousines
To walk their Holy One out along the dunes..."

Aliki Barnstone

"...'Listen! This is not a postcard.
Not a photograph. You'll never see it like this.'
She spins toward him, then away,
her red coat a cape that would tempt a bull..."

Robert Lunday

"...The car was floating: heat was rising from the pavement. I was alert to the temperatures inside and out; I was the thermometer, I was the rising red..."

Dinah Berland

"...I must have muttered
metaphors into the mattress.
Marry me . . .
marry me again, I must have said..."

B.A. St. Andrews

"...sin itself is not on trial. In
beguiling heat I perceive myself
a Deity and so decree; humans
need atone for nothing..."

"...How undeserved,
that unreciprocated moment,
when all the twisted paths
they'd walked together and alone,
seemed to brighten..."

 

POETRY EBOOK


Good advice in this morning's Mesa Tribune:
to watch for the driver who flirts with the red when making a left-hand turn. In other words,
don't be first off the mark when the light turns green.

by James Cervantes and Halvard Johnson

 

PAST POETRY


"...Perhaps in a hundred years a boy will dive here
and pick through food tins bearded
with seaweed, empty as hunger..."
"...How the sky seems to reel,
  that heft of fire descending, now copper,
  now chartreuse, now a darkened
  smear of gold."

"...Toilet is toilet as death is death,
so many parts of yourself
whooshed away..."

"In the dust of the pick-your-own pumpkin patch,
the choice ones smashed, moldering flesh slit
open..."
"...Everything I’d say would sound
like I was teaching you and any kind of sex you want, I’ve
had it.  I can do it now and still listen to the radio..."

"All about:
a sea of buttocks & biceps, nearly
frolicked into exhaustion,
cools now beneath
striped sunbrellas
over transistor static."

Ron Mohring

"...the dogs set loose in the backyard
assessed and reconfigured, a panting whirl, not so much
accommodating individuals as mutating,
boinking into an ever-expanding dog-net..."

"...Brown silence in various sizes
ticks into the wastebasket..."

"I'm in love with a dead man."

"...we first truly saw stars,
dawn, sea fog receding, great oaks: this pasture
where dogs howled at the moon or anything else..."


"You think this is going to be a poem about death,
but it's really about being hungry all the time."

Ann Neuser Lederer

"To the feral cats in empty ruins..."

Barry Spacks

"...have her come to us
in stirring nakedness..."

Hannah Jane Sassaman

"...Large enough
To melt a sugar cube, she says."

Joesph Duemer

"...the map itself can be an object of desire."

Jacquelyn Malone

"Elliptical and white,
she glows like a fallen galaxy."

Claudia Grinnell

"...Forgotten ones
dangle from ropes, a portrait
of useless feet..."

Kate Sontag

"...tunnel back
to the woman crying in our hotel room
earlier that morning...

 

Back to Home

 

 

 

 

 


More BMR Authors' Books:

The Procession
by Theron Montgomery

Karaoke Funeral
by Tania Rochelle

The View from Tamischeira
by Richard Cumyn

Fizz
by Paul A. Toth

The Bestowing Sun
by Neil Grimmett

Making Scenes
by Adrienne Eisen

Small Boat with Oars of Different Size
by Thom Ward

Interesting Monsters
by Aldo Alvarez

The Gauguin Answer Sheet
by Dennis Finnell

Rosicrucian in the Basement
by Robert Sward

Bloodroot
by Aaron Roy Even

A Patrimony of Fishes
by Doug Lawson


 

 

The Blue Moon Review/Blue Penny Quarterly, ISSN 1079-042x
is copyright ©1994-2001, and all rights are reserved.
Our privacy policy: Don't bother us, and we won't bother you back.