SIDEWALK POEM
Down the vanishing road we go
In our semi-truck full of bright, spinning dreams.
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Kim Nuzzo
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I see all of those broken pieces
Pull away in the rear view mirror
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Suzanne Bronson
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To look ahead, sometimes it's necessary to look back
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David Totty
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But I fell, and the pavement skidded by,
I blinked, suddenly, there was a field
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Harry Russell
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of dreams that lay ahead,
each blade of grass, a visionary, that sang to me
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Kathryn Preston
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beyond the hand painted 'No Trespassing' sign,
Arcing misspelled around a white-wall tire.
A necklace for the barb-wire fence
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Steven R Williams
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POEMS
Reminding people how much money you have will get you whatever your heart desires.
If someone earns less than you, treat them like a pile of steaming dog feces.
If you’re having trouble getting what you want, throw a tantrum.
The person with the most expensive car ALWAYS has the right-of-way.
The phrase “Don’t you know who I am?” automatically excuses you from all responsibility.
“Local” is synonymous with “peon”.
Trees and mountains are infinitely more beautiful than people.
I need a change of residence.
by David Totty on Wednesday, June 24, 2009
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© 2009 David Totty
You will take my hand
And give me yours
In a single motion.
In a night that will be
Conveyed by touch
And the ardors left
In the tangles of my hair –
I will kiss each sigh
That lingers by the corners
Of your mouth.
When time will be ours
To taste, to savor –
And what has ripened
In the wait.
In that first night –
The night of passion and music.
by Suzanne Bronson on Thursday, May 14, 2009

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© 2009 Suzanne Bronson
Help me to gather the madness
That lies between us;
Your kiss in my mouth
And your voice in my head –
Imprisoned by thought,
Every breath has your name –
Helpless in my own mind.
by Suzanne Bronson on Sunday, April 19, 2009
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© 2009 Suzanne Bronson
There is a song for you
Lying in my bed;
One that waits
To be written.
A music –
Shivering to be found.
by Suzanne Bronson on Sunday, April 19, 2009
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© 2009 Suzanne Bronson
The next time we meet
With that brief greeting,
If my face should brush
Past your unshaven cheek -
Remind me to also covet
That place where I lost my soul.
by Suzanne Bronson on Sunday, April 19, 2009
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© 2009 Suzanne Bronson