"Our Lady"

Somewhere the bell tolls yet the Lady stands so tall

She stands the test of time as a testament to us all

Wars have come and gone but she never seems to fall

She welcomes one and all in defiance to a border wall

Poetry & ProseMarty DentonJuly 23, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, Marty Denton

Nkyinkyim

Sometimes, I stop. I know I shouldn’t, I should keep moving, head down, eyes down, back down, hunched, picking and pulling. But sometimes I need to stop. I see you in my mind. Tiny and warm. I remember kissing you on your forehead and holding you tight to my bare breast. I couldn’t give you anything else. There was none I could give except my body.

Poetry & ProseVeronica Elizabeth ThomasJuly 23, 2018Steve Cannon, Veronica Elizabeth Thomas, a gathering of the tribes, Poetry

On My Ex-lover’s Birthday

Every day is an anniversary of something.

The longer you live, the more there is

to celebrate and

to mourn.

Poetry & ProseMadlynn HaberJuly 16, 2018a gathering of the tribes, Steve Cannon, Madlynn Haber

Cherry Blossoms and the Delta Cotton

The mockingbird builds her nest in the tall oak tree

Singing her song, always so happy and free

Back and forth she flies never stopping to rest

It must be safe, it must be the best

Poetry & ProseMarty DentonJuly 10, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, Marty Denton, Jimi Massey

Some City Birds, Like Immigrants Also?

Like us

from foreign shores

Seen as far as Asia,

and Trafalgar Square

Dovecote culture in old Egypt

Others followed the grain.

Some assembled with

indigenous black birds.

Poetry & ProseRyder W. MillerJuly 9, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, Ryder W. Miller, Ryder Miller

Collection of poetry - "When" - "The State of the Union" - "Futures Will Collide"

When the winds blowing from the north are warm, no longer cold.

When stories that were passed around campfires are seldom ever told.

When freedom isn't for all, on trading blocks our rights are bought and sold.

When youth have no reason to believe, so quickly they grow old.

Poetry & ProseMarty DentonJuly 9, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, Marty Denton

Review of Eve Packer, Foss Park: Poems

Eve Packer continues her photojournalistic exploration of New York (and her own emotional interior landscape) in these spare, eloquent poems. Many of the poems have dates, and some are even time-stamped, giving the impression of journal entries. In this way Packer marks events in the news, the seasons, the deaths of friends, and the closing of mom-and-pop businesses with a nod to the passing of time—a reassuring constant when so much else seems to be in flux.

Essays and Reviews, Poetry & ProseTribesJune 26, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, Eve Packer, Foss Park Poems

BUMPO

On June 19, 1986, I was home from college and taking a history class in the summer session at the local junior college in my hometown. It was around 7:30 p.m. and the instructor was lecturing about the importance of the civil war. Yada yada yada… I simply didn’t feel like being there. So after a few minutes had passed, I got up from my seat and quietly walked out of the room. I went to my mother’s house, which is where I stayed in the summer awaiting the fall semester to begin. I arrived at home to find a note on the kitchen table from my mother.

Poetry & ProseKarra BarberJune 21, 2018a gathering of the tribes, Steve Cannon, Karra Barber-Wada, bumpo

Ocean Beach, in San Francisco

Waters of many hues,

a sky painted by atmospherics

and clouds, and setting sun,

and emotions run wild.

Poetry & ProseRyder W. MillerJune 7, 2018Steve Cannon, Ryder W. Miller, Ryder Miller, a gathering of the tribes

Tarot

Symbols of tarot
Lay out their meaning to be deciphered

Collapsing hopes on paper cards

I denied any meaning

Poetry & ProseLuci BerriosJune 7, 2018Steve Cannon, Luciann Berrios, a gathering of the tribes, Luci Berrios

“On Hereditary Trauma: My Mother’s Narrative and Me"

Poetry, to me, is emotion or experience manifested in its most candid form. It is artistic expression so honest that only one sequence of words, thoughtfully and meticulously arranged, can express it. And though the content of its expression might be weakness, or embarrassment or fear or imperfection, the expression is perfect in itself. In this way, in this honest, perfect imperfection, my mother exemplifies poetry.

Poetry & ProseTalia GreenMay 31, 2018Steve Cannon, a gathering of the tribes, talia green

Visitors

Fun now
to encounter unusual birds,
for here,
in the parks.

Poetry & ProseRyder MillerMay 28, 2018a gathering of the tribes, Steve Cannon, Ryder Miller

Two Poems

At sixteen, he hammers
black stones
to fit over breasts,
to bless the new wine

Poetry & ProseRobert HirschfieldMay 11, 2018Robert Hirschfield, Tasting of Hurricane, Trans-Boy Rising, Trans Ghost, Steve Cannon, A Gathering of the Tribes, LGBTQ Poets, LGBTQ Poems, New York Poets, New York Poetry, Trans

Cathexis

I mourn for my mother, like Demeter
created seasons with grief
a daughter makes Hades fill the role
he will never be as gentle

Poetry & ProseGabriel DonMay 11, 2018Cathaxis, New York Poets, New York Poetrt, Poems, poetry, Gabriel Don

7 year bitch

Every where I go
Voila! There I am.

Making a mess.

Can't even give a compliment
Without pissing off
Some insecure housewife.

Poetry & ProseChavisa WoodsMay 10, 2018Amy Ouzoonian, Steve Cannon, A Gathering of the Tribes, 7 Year Bitch, Poems, Poetry, New York Poets, New York Poems

Three Poems

All About Being Rescued

As our minds travel in the same direction,
back to the same scene,
back to the moment of laughing out loud.
Traveling to the exact same place,
where we both knew just
what the other one meant.