I found it buried in Grandma’s drawer,
the blasted wooden spoon with the burn mark
and the hairline crack God knows what from.
She snatched it from my hand like it was alive.
“That thing’s seen more trouble than you,” she said,
and the air in the kitchen shifted,
as if the spoon remembered something
and was waiting to see if I did too.
It wasn’t for stirring beans.
It wasn’t for tasting stew.
that spoon was for pointing ... slow, deliberate
at any child that had forgotten their manners.
My father swore he could hear it hum
before it struck the table.
My mother said it twitched in the drawer
when someone lied in the next room.
By the time it came for my generation,
we didn’t need the smack,
just the lift of Grandma’s hand toward the drawer,
the shadow of the spoon rising like judgment.
And years later, when my own children tested me,
I reached for it not in a drawer, but in its own crock
felt its weight settle into my palm,
felt every ancestor nod in approval.
The spoon never touched them.
It didn’t have to.
Some objects carry their own history,
and this one still waits in the crock,
quiet as a predator stalking its prey.
Blasted by these days and hours?
Know thee not alone!
Cursed dog, how ye devours!
Build thy throne of bone!
Dark fire, whistle through each vein!
I am God and Death!
Coming wrath, art thou insane?
Dragon, fire thy breath!
Vampire, hide thy coffin well.
Witch, thy favorite spell.
O for Heaven without Hell!
Hear me, wedding bell!
Thought-spark, sing in me! Bright bold!
I must find more gold!
What to have and when to hold?
How it's getting cold...
Rabid is the ravine? When?
Does it need to be?
Sacred vision, then again!
Prophet, poet. Mead!
Doom and Death, thy coworker.
How I must requite!
Cast, enchantment! Slick and sure!
Erebus means Night!
Volcano above me?
Well, Capacocha's dark.
Say a word for fancy-free!
Covenant, Boy, and Ark!
Yes, blame the chick,
Rocker or hick,
Burning here,
Hands appear!
Witchy fire,
Doomed desire,
Blasted, didn't care,
She's a don't care bear,
Guess she felt good,
Blasted the whole 'hood!
everyone eats
everyone chews
tails are flicking
whoobe whoo woose.
chomp chomp chomp
flick flick flick
barn has lots of women
they like their farmer slick
pull pull pull
our udders are full
where is that blasted farmer?
for our pull? pull? pull?
Blasted Cobwebs
By: Jamie Aldridge
Sticky business is their modus operandi
You can try to say no
but then you realize
your legs won’t let go
With all your might
you put up a valiant fight
For so many years you
strive to be
the bug they long to devour
Yet, all they desire
is to watch you tire
of pointless attempts
to reel them in
How they watch you spin
while sitting comfortably still
Unable to break free
from their thread of lies
they willfully spun
to keep you from ever
truly knowing, seeing, or
enjoying the sun
One day you’ll awake
and discover
that letting go
was always a piece of
chocolate choice cake
I wait and wait
for the pages to load,
it ticks me right off
I feel like I'll explode.
Being charged too much
for a crappy internet,
gets slower every night
this, I won't soon forget.
High-speed internet, my butt
seems more like dial-up to me,
I'll be glad to get away from this
and finally, I'll be free.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
horny toad
thorny road
download music
for lively bones
nobody knows
break glass with plastic stone
open toe broken phone
day old newborn soul
crusty milk bowls
itty-bitty silk flows
dabble with graffiti
on the city down low
grime gritty cold windy city
crime filthy bold chicago
exit on the intro
enter on the outro
dressed in the apparel
of a mighty big-headed pharaoh
a headdress nacho sombrero
kill two birds with one arrow
spill verbs like whistling sun sparrow
thrill nerds down to the bone marrow
does anyone care to tango
next to their own clone lone shadow
Love blasted a hole in the wall
All heads twirled mayhem in the mall
Sound of thud
We two seized the money and ran
The street we got into a van
Dark clouds scud
© Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
Love blasted a hole in the wall
20 th November 2014
crawling out
from a deep
dark forest
haunting eyes
burning hell's fire
a growling panther
sweetly in pain
breathing steam emotion
clawing feelings
upon the tree
of life
reaching out
of a smokey haze
alighting flames
flickering embers
in darkness
flaming bolts
lightning strikes
appears one
beautiful goddess
walking with
the spirits
joining souls
sparkling stars
breathing two hearts
a fireworks
breathes one explosion
lighting heaven's
on the sands
of paradise
blasted cherries
splatter the pavement bird dropping…
bloody tell trails
The clock moves in one direction
as we search for something
amidst the canyons
of our metropolis
All the dawns you have known
have vanished
into
Dark, black, night
We believe that light will
filter in
We're hoping that it will
praying that it will
To continue our search
we nedd warmth
and sunbeams - which will alow our tired eyes to find
what we are seeking
here in the asphalt homeland
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