Isosceles


Are we as a country becoming more divided or more unified? When historical decisions are made and elections fall to one party or the other, there is an “in your face” celebration focused at those who lost. When was the last time there was an election for president that was separated by more than a few percentage points in the popular vote? When was the last time there was a unanimous Supreme Court decision on any major decision? It’s usually 5-4, or 6-3 at best. That tells me there are a lot of people who will be hurt, lost, disappointed, and even confused as to what the future holds for them and their beliefs. Where is the leader who has seen his/her cause win, and then truly demonstrated a humility that there are a lot of people who are not celebrating?

 

John Pickard, Lakewood

This letter was published in the July 5, 2015 edition of The Denver Post


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Ragged Man

Thank you for writing this, Walter.

Photography by Lee Jeffries

Poetry and Prose

Amaya is tonight’s bartender in the Dverse Pub.  She asked us to write about a time when a change in our lives caused us to change our mind for the greater good.  This person changed my mind and life more than any other I could ever imagine:

I met a ragged man,
Who walked a crooked mile.
Though he was stooped and weary,
I thought I caught a smile.

He was walking down the lane,
Bloody and beat down.
And on His head a band of thorns,
Encircled as a crown.

I asked Him, “Why so cheerful,
When you know a dreadful end?”
He beamed a smile right back at me,
“It’s all for you my friend”.

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Milk

You mark an X
on your chart. Your plan is just an infant,
a lone, whining cry for a bottle of smeared Milky Way.

-Cathryn Hankla, from poem ‘The Palm Galaxy’

Voice like a tentacle grew out from All
Prosodic light named me to be born
Winced, I already felt shattered
Falling into time and a cut/open womb
I squirmed cold in skin and sinew
Heaven pulsated and recoiled into a distant dot Read More

Brocade

Photography by Armelle Touzeau


Broken brocade;

Where do I put this sequin when the sequence

Falls like notes from the cellar door?

On my knees searching on the dirty waxed floor

Hands graze gypsy mambo scuff-marks

And dirty martini olive-swords.

Candles glow in distant red bulbs,

My search waxes dim.

How does poetry save the world like God? Read More

The Village

Photography by Waseem Niaz

I walk a path, rainclouds retreat to the east. I come to a village tucked in a basin, earthen and stone dwellings line the path, but the sunlight illuminates people outside them, on their knees with hands cupped, raised up. Beggars, desiring nothing more than bread or coin? Read More