Monday, October 21, 2019
Thursday, October 17, 2019
Saturday, October 12, 2019
The Brand for Real Change
The brand I wear is for freedom
with elephants roaming wild
of dolphins and whales breeching,
living in family pods at sea.
I can’t abide a captive life for them,
behind logos of SeaWorld or zoos,
circus tents with hook-handed handlers
dishing out abuse among rings of fire.
The brand I wear is for fairness for all
gender identities and persons of color,
to live without fear, to gain and maintain rights,
to move forward instead of losing ground.
I can’t abide the fork-tongues of leaders,
daily barrage of violence and hatred;
people yelling across widening chasms
disregarding beckoning hands of friendship.
The brand I wear is a barren beach,
clean sand with pink shells and pebbles,
free from decaying fish and sharks,
dead sea turtles that ingested debris.
I can’t abide the sight of trash,
plastic washing up on the shore,
sea water a floating raft of death,
collateral damage of human waste.
The brand I wear is for real change
for enough people to care and listen,
to stop environmental destruction,
abandon cruelty, protect the earth.
I can’t abide the human apathy,
silence condoning their behavior
to appear deaf and blind to the chaos;
isn’t it time to wake up and change?
Julie A. Dickson
Gray skin sags over a large frame,
skin and bones you might say
I’m not allowed to graze, forage
as nature intends – I wait.
They throw dried grass, sticks.
I amble over to the pile slowly
as my feet are sore and cracked,
pavement hard; it’s been so long
since I felt dirt and grass beneath.
Where are the trees for my itchy hide,
branches to pull on, pungent leaves?
I crave to wander; my eyes close.
I see my herd, ears flapping, rumbles
through the ground, joyous voices,
but when I look again, I am alone -
lonely and penned in, no herd here
just the loud voices of my captors.
Julie A. Dickson
Song of Mother Earth
A wonderland of nature
sings a song of mother earth
plants and animals grow
celebrating every birth
Listen to the river
flowing out to sea
rustle in the tree tops
birds call out to me
Hear the cattle lowing
and dogs up on a hill
footsteps in the forest
beneath the walk until
whispers from the cloudy sky
cool breeze blows my hair
scan the distant mountain range
across lakes and valleys there
Like ancestors from our past
worship moon and father sky
cherish earth our mother
don’t let her beauty pass you by
Sit upon the granite rock
contemplate the far off plains
sing a song of mother earth
in this land where nature reigns
Julie A. Dickson
Friday, October 11, 2019
Friday, June 28, 2019
Submit poems to Chrysanthemum Poetry Anthology 2020 by directly sending Word file to:
You can send up to five poems (under 60 lines each).
There are no required themes, just send the best poems you have now, sort of reluctant to see them go like your child going away to attend college. You and they will be the better for it.
Payment is one copy upon publication and extra copies at a discount.
By koon woon - June 28, 2019
Bring the night I, the poet, did walk around that day living like I was actually alive. And the next day, I the poet lived rather like I wa...
DREAM-DOG Say, it was vivid! -- akin to something -- Someone alive and kicking. I know I should have caught that 4:11 am...
Almost three decades ago as an editor of my own rag mag, I began to receive submissions from someone in a Southern prison. The submissions d...
Click on Poetry above to view Thomas Hubbard's two poems