Voices de la Luna

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Part VI


Shakespeare's Soap...Ad Infinitum
Valerie Martin Bailey

Not much has changed since Shakespeare penned his "soap"
for Nothing is still causing Much Ado
and convoluted tales of vanquished hope,
forbidden love, suspense, and ballyhoo

are scripted by the bards of commerce to
be broadcast to the waiting eyes and ears
of those who live to wallow in the stew
of passion, angst, deceit, and hopeless tears

of All My Children—Young and Restless ones
whose lives are tangled in a parody
of life, who move as planets round their suns
in endless, pointless, mad hyperbole...

A soapy, mindless drama marathon—
Ah, roiling sea of nothingness rage on.


C-Nile Virus
 Catherine-Grace Patrick
They call it "C-Nile Virus,"
This Senior-cursed infection,
The one that counts us down—then out,
When we try recollection!
For when, in life, this stage is reached,
We gain the predilection,
To hear (from our own children),
Their need for our correction.
 
Then, once again, we try, of course,
With focused (?) introspection,
Sorting through synaptic strands,
Misfired with small affection,
To learn where that one swift right turn,
Went by, without detection,
Sending us to laugh (why not?),
At our own imperfection


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Keeping Company
AKA
Dear Old Cat
Judy St. John

Dear old cat, lanky, dusty with age
Come, sit with me and remember.
Do you take pleasure now in my company?
Do you still listen for her return?

Do you recall the happy days when she raced in
Calling your name, holding you high,
Delighted with your squeaky "meow"
And your jaunty left ear?

Now, old cat, it's just you and me.
You, curled snuggly on a fine velvet chair,
Hand-quilted pillow at your back,
Me nestled empty-lapped in my Grandmother's rocker.

Keeping company, you and I, with our wise looks,
Warm purrs and soft wispy memories.


Known, Unknown
Roberto Bonazzi

A café in our romantic tradition
Where we tasted exotic ideas

Wood floors polished by light
Shadows marshaling oily legions

Sharpening our instincts                                                            
Laughter a last wilderness

Listening for decades to quartets
Knowing and not knowing

Music arrives in us
Yet we hesitate to sing


Of Wine and Roses. .
Dennis Gittinger

The sharpest thorns that guard the reddest rose
Are cursed when cut, for cutters often bleed.
But flowers mid the swords are seen by those
Who cultivate the earth, and plant the seed.
For decades long we tilled and sowed apart.
And both had drunk so deep from cups of life,
Now gently joined, the petals of our hearts,
Have canonized our quest, and stilled our strife.
And now the fates have filled our glass anew,
And blessed us with a bloom that's sure to last.
This love we share, unspeakable and true,
Gives smiles today, and heals for us our past.
So much has flowed between your lips and mine.
The gods have saved for last the sweetest wine.


XV
Mike Alexander

To catch a snapshot of the virgin's face

her mother scans the missing persons files,

the girls who've disappeared without a trace,

the beatific eyes, the vacant smiles.



She's learning a new catechism, trials,

reprieves, a grief that cannot be controlled,

her daughter held by godless pedophiles

somewhere where innocence is bought and sold.



The days grow shorter, slowly turning cold,

as she exhausts the casebooks, one by one,

the trees outside the station turning gold,

then brown, & barren, until the day is done.



The roses by her bed refuse to bud;

She wakes to find her mouth half-full of blood.



Now, Voyager
Joan Seifert

1942 Warner Bros. Movie
"Don't let's ask for the moon, Jerry; we have the stars!"

Remember candy cigarettes?
As kids decades ago, we'd hold them,
gazing dewy-eyed just like in the movies;
we were Bette Davis and Paul Henreid
tracing our destinies in the heavens
with such wit and elegance.
Jerry and I just knew we could compete
with that lofty movie star sophistication.

I could never make my "cigarettes" last,
taking in the sweetness with leisure.
I liked to chew them quickly
into crackles of syrupy delight.
Jerry lingered, though, with style and class,
even mixing a little Bogart
"Here's looking at you, kid" into his act.

When we last talked, he had that wit and charm still,
We were like the stars once; God!
do you remember when it was just candy?

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