The Bobolink
          by W. “Birdcaws” Eule

Beyond the meadows of corruption, one may hear him sing.
O’er newsy noise, his troubling tinkling has a truthful ring.
By den or grove, his bubbling song can be picked up by some;
if one is patient one may hear him in the autumn hum.

Known in the South as a ricebird for damage he may do
with his long claws in fields of rice, while under his purview.
While in migration, he may pause near stony marsh or swamp;
he, Bob o’ Lin-skeet likes the prairie grasses, moist and damp;

Yet he is hard to see, and one may miss him in the fog,
when tarrying about the whistle-blowing SinoHawk,
this wrestler with the armyworm moth larvae mob that lies,
in swamp sedge, o, by den and hunter, where they’re “compromised”.

W. “Birdcaws” Eule is a poet of the avian world.

~~~

Haiku
          by “Wired Clues” Abe

It is hard to see.
The Sun’s at the traffic light.
Is it red or green?

“Wired Clues” Abe is a poet of Japanese forms and technology.

~~~

Haiku
          by “Clear Dew” Ibuse

Buoyant, boisterous,
a night-long party beneath
Halloween’s full moon.

“Clear Dew” Ibuse is a poet of Japanese poetic forms.

~~~

The Night
          Waldeci Erebus
          “Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care.”
              —William Shakespeare, “Macbeth”

The night had come and all was dark. The young man went to bed.
He was so looking forward to, o, laying down his head.
So happily he fell onto the mattress, clean and fresh,
almost as if his body with it would begin to mesh.
He closed his eyes, but he could sense the lamplight loom beyond;
though golden in nocturnal fog, it was no magic wand.
So close to sleep, his night shirt on, he stretched his legs a bit.
Nearby Hypnos was lurking in the murkiness unlit.
His breaths were deep; he rose into a slumberland of peace.
Appealing healing feelings lifted up lofe’s lovely lease.

Waldesi Erebus is a poet of the dark.

~~~

October Morning Wake-Up
          by Saber Wul Dicee

Above the rooftops underneath the clouds, the full moon swooned;
it slowly dropped on the horizon, shining dun as dune.
Although it was so beautiful to gaze upon its form,
its bright, round shape was white and pale, its broad face was’t warm.

A man was lying on a bed. His head was big and square.
He was involved in some nightmare, as he was resting there/
A savage man with tats was coming through some mountain pass.
He had to focus, keep still, so he would not be harassed.

Though only minutes passed, it seemed like an eternity;
His heart was racing, he was bracing, o, but quietly.
He slowly lifted up his head; he felt fate’s fingered poke;
and then, o, Lord, he heard some words. A wolf sprang out. He woke.

Saber Wul Dicee is a poet of the wild aspects of nature. His totem is the defunct saber tooth tiger.

~~~

A Heightened State
          by Sri Wele Cebuda

He got into the lotus pose to reach a higher state.
He stretched each leg out to each side to better meditate.
He longed to elevate his mind to reach a higher plane,
But he was not exactly sure what he would likely gain.

It seemed like he would get much more than he would likely want.
Would it be little more than lovely pool with lively font?
Would he achieve more wisdom, sophomoric though it be?
Would he achieve a kind of knowledge or new ecstasy?

He wondered at the situation that he now was in.
What could he win? He could not grin. He only felt chagrin.
He lifted up his head and neck, as high as he could go.
He fussed, he cussed, he focused, o, He felt his chest explode.

Sri Wele Cebuda is a poet of meditation.

~~~

Hunting For Armenians
          By Darius Belewec

In France, the Turk Gray Wolves were hunting for Armenians.
They recently defaced the Genocide Memorial.
The Centre in Décines had been attacked with yellow paint.
Across the Centre, Turkish Gray-Wolf messages were sprayed.
Coordination Council of Armenians, in pleas,
called out for safety for minority ethnicities.
Though Erdogan’s upset at pictures, he is not averse
to target all Armenians by Syrians and Turks.
Denying genocide by Turks is more important than
attacking all Armenians, o, when or where he can.

Darius Belewec is a poet of Armenians. The Turks have yet to acknowledge the hundreds of thousands of Armenians they have murdered. Turks, even now, are trying to kill Armenians in Nagorno_Krrabach.

~~~

The USA Election: 2020
          by Brice U. Lawseed

The USA remains divided in its politics;
conservatives and liberals connected at the hip.
Republicans and Democrats do not see eye to eye,
while others cry a pox upon both houses by and by.
This year the majors issues were coronavirus plague,
the economic shutdown, law-and-order powder keg.

The Northeast and the Left Coast were predominantly blue
and urban sites distributed across the country too;
The Midwest and the South, the heartland, tended to be red,
and rural regions scattered sea to sea, from east to west.
The USA remains divided in its politics,
just as it has been since back in 1776.

Brice U. Lawseed is a poet of US politics.