Michael Simms: Coming to Terms
There is no lasting happiness
in this world, only
particles of happiness,
fleeting, unpredictable,
transitory as a fragrance
or a falling leaf
Naomi Shihab Nye & Michael Simms: Writing Prompt # 7 | Dear Vaccine
As we enter our new lives
will we remember
the faster we moved
the sicker we got?
Michael Simms: The Trojan Women
The slaves in the dark hold of the ship cannot climb out or go back to where things went wrong. There’s no light, no voice of comfort, just chaos and darkness where they have to find their own peace without the kindness of others.
Vox Populi: You are invited
You are invited to attend a reading by some of the most talented poets in the country. The time is 8pmET Tuesday, March 2.
Harriet Powers: Quilt Maker
“The dark day of May 19, 1780. The seven stars were seen 12 N. in the day. The cattle wall went to bed, chickens to roost and the trumpet was blown. The sun went off to a small spot and then to darkness.”
Michael Simms: The Courage of Teachers
In 1987, students gathered in front of the admin building angry over the corruption of the university’s board. The crowd was getting ugly. I was a young teacher standing to the side, listening to the speeches, watching warily as the crowd grew. Someone shouted Take Over the Administration! and the crowd chanted Take Over! Take over! Take Over! The crowd, now a mob…
Vox Populi: A note from the editor
Please forgive this blatant self-promotion, but I want to share with you a link to a review of my new collection of poems American Ash in the highly regarded and popular magazine Cultural Weekly, curated by Alexis Rhone Fancher.
Michael Simms: Dust
The distinct nothingness of my life
suddenly seems glorious,
a particle of dust dancing in the light
beside eight billion others
Michael Simms: The Dark
The park ranger herded us down
the chained path sloping into the earth
until we came to a cathedral
where columns of rock caught the light
and shimmered.
Max Ehrmann: Desiderata
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Michael Simms: The Great Conjunction
I think of the sun rising between
great standing stones,
and the Persians gathering for Yaldā Night
to eat pomegranates
and recite the poems of Hafez.
Michael Simms: Civilization and Her Discontents
On the morning of the important day, Civilization woke up on the wrong side of bed again, rolled over and fell on the floor.
