Do I Smell Like a Poem by Salvatore Buttaci

Bluestone Review, 2009

Bluestone Review, 2009

Do I smell like a poem? Like flowers
or the scent of the sky and sea? What’s with me?
You who hold the pen, stare blindly at screens
in dark rooms, what do you know of pain and
hardship? I am a poem!  Forget what makes me
tick. The measures, the accents you might
dance me through. I live a full-life in
lines of desperation and of love (or hate)
but when all is said and done, on this paper,
on that screen, in this magazine, I stand
proud I’ve made it here, made it one more day.


There Are Two Moons

There Are Two Moons

By Marland Funk


There are two moons:
One in the sky, 
the other in the water.
The moon in the sky is befriended by
millions of twinkling stars,
whereas the moon in the water
has fireflies dancing around it.
Crickets chirp in the midst,
A fish jumps,
The wind whispers. 
The world sleeps.
The two moons and I still remain.
I do not know which
I am deceived by more – 
the true moon
or its rippling reflection.
I try to reach for them both
and in return grasp the dark nothingness.
Then I realize
I am not worthy to grasp the moon
and that I am deceiving myself.
So I go back alone into the cold.
And there are two moons.