Waltzing into the blanket of dusk.
A pawn escaping across the checkered board,
Out and inwards to the green grassed yard.
A sleeting figure, past-and-future,
Gone the way of the fearless noble rook.
Down-acrossed squares of black and white.  
Into the field of endless battle.

This game we play, has become a tournament.
White against black, two players locked;
Locked in a battle of constant wits.
Who shall win?
The noble too afraid to capture the evil queen or,
The darkness plauging the board.

**Check and mate.

It's raining, it's storming
The tools are conforming
Society will be the death of me
Please pills, don't let me wake in the morning
It's sleeting, it's snowing
Their plastic smiles are glowing
Put your make up on, dignity gone
Make sure your "made in China" tag isn't showing
Its windy, the sun is shining!
Their ignorance is blinding!
No hope for mankind, I've lost my mind
There is no silver lining

I find myself here again,
sleeting days; fleeting nights.
Where are you? Is it raining, snowing,
wind blowing your hair as you
look to the ground and think of me?

The pull, ever drawn upwards
towards the promise of your eyes
looking into mine once more.
Should I go there, leave this behind
so I can be home again? Reunited
with the lost touch of a broken family.

I can't come to you, nor you to me,
I don't know how I'd find you. Lost in my mind
as I roam the world, filled with empty goodbyes -
forever sorrows in my mind. I need to find my home again,
otherwise I think I might be lost with you.

seeing
sealing
sewing
seeming
setting
seeding
seeking
seeping
sel­ling
steeling
sleeting
slipping
slitting
slighting
soaping
soothi­ng
spotting
speeding
sweeping
swapping
swimming
swearing
swelling­
sleeping

Black lines drip down this canvas
Of blue tinged white like fallen snow
I know it's grown colder so this
Feeling of surprise climbs without reason
Like finding santa's presents this season

This cold feels warm somehow
My body and mind disagree
Viewing my hairs stand in memory of freezing winds, changing a tire in sleeting weather, but all I remember is laying on the floor fireside with my familiar.

There's no sound so beautiful
as falling icicles from branches
after a sleeting.
There will be no cracking
of branches or crying
of trees this winter's night.

The rain keeps pouring down,
Pounding on the ground.
The rain keeps falling down,
Those ******* clouds make us frown.
The rain keeps tumbling down,
It started with some drizzle.
The rain keeps scything down,
Striking like a chisel.
The rain keeps sleeting down,
Causing local flooding.
The rain keeps belting down,
Plants droop instead of budding.
The rain keeps showering down,
No time for any stanzas,
The rain keeps teeming down,
From Scotland down to Kansas.
The rain keeps arrowing down,
Whenever will it stop?
The rain keeps swirling down,
Yes, I’m hating every drop.

Paul Butters

it felt good to leave the tourists behind
---with their cast-iron grated stairs
and photo-flashing-falls,
question-comments cookie-cut---
embrace the woods:
soaking wet approach,
brinks of shivers in the dripping wind,
an old, broken filter
   slurping bubbles from a cardboard tired puddle;
whisperlite stove finally working,
the first cous-cous dinner warms our little white dog
   dreaming on my rising falling chest
   pressed by sleeping bag and snort and sigh;
we sleep our psoas sore--
unknowing we have just begun...
haven't yet begun!
yet bodied abject pain to shock our senseless raw
   with scoured glimmer-vasts of love beneath
a frozen fly on Frosty Mountain
zippered hail in midnight breath,
i *** in numbness gusts--
i bite my smile ice,
whoop the sleeting world for we are here at last.

Of emotion
Roar thru this day

These new gaps
in my life

Places nothing matters
ever escapes

Circle each other
Like big time wrestlers

Throwing sparks
From clever costumes

And it's hard radiation
sleeting chest high


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

Beware the fleeting expressions of Man!
Allah’who Akbar is easier to shout than
an explicit examination of rights and wrongs
Honor!  shouts the honorless;  Shout!  Sings the songs

A Fire of Men and Stones!
stoked by honor and broken bones
fleeting the expression upon the face
under the blood tears leave no trace.

Beware the sleeting excoriations of Men!
In the name of god is so easy to sing, then
the stonings and the burnings can begin.
Love! Shouts the loveless; hating the sinner, loving the sin

A Fire of Men and Stones!
Lovingly born by staring crones!
Fleeing the expression upon the face!
Gaining Pride!  Losing the Race.

“Please God help me,” the sinner begs.
Shaitan smiles and stirs the dregs.
The soul of Man spits down like stones
thrown without mercy at mercy overthrown.

A Fire of Men and Stones!
The flames a’crackle; the ground, she groans.
Fleeting, the expression, ‘Please save me!’
Shaitan names the mob; mommy.

Men and Stones afire!
Souls burn bright upon the funeral pyre!
But not as bright as truth overthrown
Virgins tremble!  ****** groan!

“Please God!  Are you there?”
Nothing answers, not even the air
that rises high in a silent sneer
from the pyre that draws all so near.

Pray not for men; they will not hear or atone
for they are the fire of Men and Stone.

there was a boy
about 16
he found the love of his life
or so he had thought

there was a boy
about 20
she left him to die
on a sleeting february night
walking the barberton street

a year later
there was another boy
in the same body
21
who made two decisions

to love
and to serve

there was a girl
age 18
who met the boy
far away from her

she was him

they talked
they played
but he had to leave for a little bit

a little bit turned to a long bit
he saw her struggle
he kept trying
it didnt work

he kept waiting

he kept waiting

he kept waiting

he kept waiting

she appeared

he made his move

she took him back!

she made her choice
he'd made his
________
there might be more
than a mile or two
from here to there
but really
its only the distance from his camera
that keeps him in focus,
right?

_________

sweepin sleeting driving bleating

no end, no sight, no depth, no hearing

open close, stay or go

press on away, press on slow

fight or flight, jump or skip

finish light, finish quick

Wet snow falls faster than the
dry, fluffy flakes associated with a White christmas.
People say when it is slushing or sleeting or otherwise drizzling almost-flakes,
the weather cannot make up its mind.
I think the opposite;
each heavy flake falls with great purpose,
reaching quickly toward the ground,
trying its very best to be snow,
real snow,
that will stick and not wash away on contact with the
earth, warmed from within.

Beware the fleeting expressions of Man!
Allah’who Akbar is easier to shout than
an explicit examination of rights and wrongs

Honor!  shouts the honorless;  Shout!  Sings the songs

A Fire of Men and Stones!
stoked by honor and broken bones
fleeting the expression upon the face
under the blood, tears leave no trace.

Beware the sleeting excoriations of Men!
In the name of god is so easy to sing, then
the stonings and the burnings can begin.

Love! Shouts the loveless; hating the sinner, loving the sin

A Fire of Men and Stones!
Lovingly born by staring crones!
Fleeing the expression upon the face!
Gaining Pride!  Losing the Race.

“Please God help me,” the sinner begs.
Shaitan smiles and stirs the dregs.
The soul of Man spits down like stones
thrown without mercy at mercy overthrown.

A Fire of Men and Stones!
The flames a’crackle; the ground, she groans.
Fleeting, the expression, ‘Please save me!’
Shaitan names the mob; mommy.

Men and Stones afire!
Souls burn bright upon the funeral pyre!
But not as bright as truth overthrown
Virgins tremble!  ****** groan!

“Please God!  Are you there?”
Nothing answers, not even the air
that rises high in a silent sneer
from the pyre that draws all so near.

Pray not for men; they will not hear or atone
for they are the fire of Men and Stone.

Careful dance
Under the rain
Only for once
Hiding the pain
Shoes on the damp
Innocent road
Glowing street lamps
It's sleeting and cold
Dust settled down
They've survived
Lucky to 've found
Each other's lives
Starting anew
Hoping for more –
They are the few
Who made it through war

Dust up your nose, dreaming of a hose, just some ******* water
Trained for the slaughter, sons against sons, daughter against daughter
Finding reasons to not alter the course of things
We lose so much, it bites and stings its way into our lives
Natural change and decay, fundamental loss
Like pulling a tooth out with the floss,  accidental bleeding
Copper in your mouth and the rain is pouring, sleeting
We're retreating into soft beds and light sheets
The stink of a day on your heart, liquid jumpstart caffeine cyanide
Cut it open wide, take the wild ride roll ruthless
At the kissing booth with Boothe blasting blackcaps
Fat stacks of ore, consumed from children's core
We **** our whole planet but still will ask for more
Open the door, look upstream, things glide and then gleam
Photons in motion causing compounded confusion
The funniest thing is it's all illusion, gap tooth grasping at glimpses
Stencil my body on concrete blocks, dry, and rearrange to your preference

Shy

Sleeting snowflakes melt be for me.
As a flame burns from one’s heart so warm.
For it might be winter at its coldest yet it is more like springs warmth that I feel.
Yet so afraid so not one word of this is said.
For not wanting to extinguish this delicate flame.
For not wanting to feel the cold of winter again to soon.  
Yet is it wrong to say nothing?
For maybe you feel the same spring warmth.
Yet you do not show unless it is just me unable to read the signs.
For even in such little of time.
For is it so that two strangers can meet somewhere and have so much in common.
And have a bond made yet still delicate still shaking so unsure of this spring in the middle of winter.
So careful footprints do I tread upon.  
For who knows how this will play out.  
Who knows what is yet to be said.

Running is essential to being a fighter.
You will never be able to stand your ground,
if you don't spend hours running as fast as you can.
Ironic isn't it.

Every day. Early in the morning when everyone is asleep.
Wake up. get dressed. 3 miles, 21 minutes or less.
It's raining? *****. Its sleeting? Get over it. You're exhausted? too **** bad.

Its those moments when you don't want to run.
The times when you want to say **** it,
that's where you learn to stand your ground.
Ironic that it takes more ******* running to get there.

Your heart reminds me of winter, the coldest season of the year,
Icicles of emotions form whenever I come near,

Your heart reminds of winter, so cold and very bleak,
Words destructive like an avalanche everytime you speak,

Your heart reminds me of winter, black ice disguised by your smile,
A dangerous territory to uncover, like sharpened glass in a pile,

Your heart reminds me of winter, snowflakes fall but don't remain,
Empty streets of broken hearts, are paved by sleeting sheets of pain,

Your heart reminds me of winter, hailing sadness causing dents,
Shattered windows of broken promises, scattered by your ill-intent,

Your heart reminds me of winter, chilling down to the very bone,
Leaving sickness in my body, the very moment you are gone.

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                               Sunshine is Dogshine

                    Be prepared. A dog is adorable and noble.
                    A dog is a true and loving friend. A dog
                    Is also a hedonist.

                          -Mary Oliver, “The Wicked Smile”

My little dogs pause at the kitchen door
But after tentatively testing the air
Run wild into the sunlit of a rare warm day
Leaping across the long-dead summer grass

They tumble and roll, and loll with their tummies up
For each little sunbeam is a doggie-kiss
To be cherished against the next arctic front
When the sleeting wind rattles the window panes

My little dogs scratch at the kitchen door
Sunshine is dogshine
But now they want a doggie-nosh and a nap