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Creations Poetry


ONE LEAF
by Barbara Novack, Laurelton

One leaf, tired of summer heat,
drifts down
on the lazy haze,
ending a season
in a moment.


Haiku
by Stacy Sklar, W. Bayshore

My life bottled up…
Hawk, my spirit guide, sends me
high soaring freedom!

 

MORE BLUES TO BE SUNG
by Fred Byrnes, Huntington Station

This could have happened right after WWII
in a barroom badly needing a paint job
off of a dusty road somewhere in TheSouth
It could have happened in a basement tavern
anywhere in New York City or Chicago
Wherever it was, he just sort of
wandered in,
one white guy in a crowd of black faces
“All are welcome,” a large man with a
deep voice
wearing a sweat stained derby said
As he shook his hand, the man asked:
“You play the blues son?”
He shook his head to indicate no
Laughing, the man in the derby
handed him a sandwich,
shredded beef with big chunks of
bleu cheese.
smothered in hot sauce,
stuffed into an oversized roll
“Eat this son, it’s magic, you’ll know the blues”
He ate the sandwich, while the man in the derby
played twelve string guitar and sang about
his wife
who’d run off with his best friend
He sang about two teenagers lynched
for no reason other than the color of
their skin
He finished the sandwich
and as he listened, he was sure
he could feel the blues
Was it the magic of the sandwich
or the beer he was drinking?
It was right after WWII
Soon, Jackie Robinson would be allowed
to compete
in The Major Leagues
America was beginning to go color blind,
but there would be blues yet to be sung,
plenty of blues yet to be sung

 

MASSAGE THERAPY
by Roberta A. McQueen

Strong firm hands
Gently easing tension
Restoring and rejuvenating
Releasing and relaxing
Letting the inner self
Come to the surface
Feeling comfortable
In one's skin
Stress slowly
Melting away
It's sheer bliss

It feels so good to be kneaded

Health Spa
by Kathleen Casserly

Because the elevator was broken, the two janitors had to lift the heavy cleaning cart
Up and down three flights of stairs.
They did it without complaint.

The overweight women from the city, used to coddling and pampering, also had to climb the stairs.
They did, protesting loudly
Their indignant howls preceding them up the stairwell.