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Whit Howland Feb 2021
Once popping crackling
flashing

now burning down
to an orange ember

soon to be spritzed
followed by hissing

then sputtering
what just happened

we had so much
promise

whit howland © 2021
A word painting
  Feb 2021 Whit Howland
Carlo C Gomez
The rosy-fingered dawn
  bleeds excitation
and atmospheric trails
  for seeking out tomorrow

Are these stars like rain?

  Emitting imagination,
  refracting suggestion?

Perhaps a new art form swimming
about as cloudbursts?

In undulating waves
  war and peace
are colliding out from
  the center of the sun

Could they be
messengers from heaven?

  A signal from God?

Perhaps at magnetic midnight,
four horsemen shall ride?
  Feb 2021 Whit Howland
Thomas W Case
You rolled across
my body and
soul,
working the
aches out of my
tired back.
This poem won't
behave.
The writing streak
is over.
I know that
all good things
must come to
an end.
The sidewalk
cracks,
the glasses break,
both bull and
matador die.
And when I lie down
at night
on the living
room couch,
the ten steps
to your bed and
to your heart
seem like
a thousand miles away.
Whit Howland Feb 2021
Close my eyes
let go of fear?

I fear

if I do,

I will look up above
and see

a black anvil
hanging  by a  thread

over me.

whit howland © 2021
An abstract word painting.
Whit Howland Feb 2021
All it took
was a March
Chicago wind

to turn you
inside out
and show you

how fragile
you really were
but not us

not you
and not us
I'm not talking

about us

no

maybe I am
about how it will
take more than

a stupid icy wind
to tear us
asunder

whit howland © 2021
  Feb 2021 Whit Howland
Jason Michie
The thrumming of feathered wings reveals a sight,

Shimmering seas of forgotten starlight.

The ocean of sorrow between us two,

Even in dark dreams, it carries me to you.

Yours is the only light in these lonely eyes,

The fiery sun in the expanse of my skies.

Lightning may strike, fire may burn,

Yet no evil will make my heart turn.

No matter how complicated the map to your door,

I know it leads me back to my love, my heart, my core.
©1999 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
Whit Howland Feb 2021
just one minute
in the microwave

and watch it bubble and
sizzle

greasy

slabs of fat
and all

Lord please

let me be forever
guilty

and gladly  and
eternally

doing
my penance


whit howland © 2021
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