Poem-a-Day for Carl Leggo

Growing Up Someway in Newfoundland   While you were growing up perpendicular on the side of a hill* in Corner Brook, on the west coast of Newfoundland, I was growing up out of place** over on the Point in Admiral’s Cove, on the east coast of the island that taught us how to live.   […]

Leggoian Light – by Anar Rajabali Click on title above to view poem

And – poem for Carl by Erin Quinn Click on title above to view poem

  Poetry as Insurgent Art [I am signaling you through the flames] I am signaling you through the flames. The North Pole is not where it used to be. Manifest Destiny is no longer manifest. Civilization self-destructs. Nemesis is knocking at the door. What are poets for, in such an age? What is the use […]

BREATH OF LIFE I breathe in All That Is- Awareness expanding to take everything in, as if my heart beats the world into being. From the unnamed vastness beneath the mind, I breathe my way into wholeness and healing. Inhalation. Exhalation. Each Breath a “yes,” and a letting go, a journey, and a coming home. […]

Carl par la présente Par ta présence Infinie et dépassant la vulgarité des mots Je t’admire Comme un amiral en quête d’une Destinée infinie Qui résonne en toi; en nous tous En cette chaleur humaine Qu’apporte et que porte Ta présence si présente Dans ta présidence des mots Dictée comme le meilleure démocrate Des rhymes […]

For my teacher, Carl We pore over our pasts across kitchen tables-turned-desks, and sift through fingerprinted photos, keeping them warm. Those memories mingle, whisper reassurances to one another in soft tones, and exchange compliments. Snips of sentences destined for found poems slip out, sneak underneath placemats still clinging to old dots of chowder – a […]

You You are the one who inspired me to write, to love. to live. All of us gathered in your classroom, sitting on the grass, dreaming, writing, laughing, and crying. As you listened, and knew just what to say… what not to say. You are the one who allowed me to create, to breathe, to […]

anticipated by Rena Del Pieve Gobbi Click on title above to view poem

Easel late summer blue sky    sound of water flowing in the culvert across the street full from last night’s downpour breeze sun warm on my back a sense of healing    I sit on the driveway taking apart an easel that my dad built more than twenty five years ago for our daughters I […]