Welcome to the 3rd online edition of Perspectives Magazine.
I'm sure you'll enjoy reading this issue. The online edition has changed. Instead of full entries, I have posted excerpts. You will experience the world through the eyes of: canvas, fire, meat, microphone, mounting board, ocean, raindrop, signature, snowflake, statue, and wedding ring.
Please send feedback to the writers. Let them know how their words affected you. If you see room for improvement or wish to give me feedback about the magazine, please let me know.
Keep the ink flowing.
Monique Berry
Get your favorite drink, settle down, and enjoy the literary show!
CANVAS
Look at her.She is across from me.I see her all the time.Her pores were too small to absorb the pigments Frederick mixed.So now, when the humidity changes, she gurgles and sputters on the excess.Imagine a woman with no control over her vocal membrane, whose voice is stretched and pinched, made obscene, stifled then magnified, who never knows if the next word will tear her throat apart to say it.Imagine her knowing she will be like that forever.
FIRE
I flare high and disappear or
Smolder eternally.
All I leave behind is all I am.
Your vision is dazzled, entranced,
Deceived by glory and strength
And hunger.
MEAT
by Randall Pretzer
"I am tired of being someone's piece of meat," I told my friend—the thought was unbearable.I couldn't take living this way anymore.He would throw me, beat me on my chest and cut me down to size.I don't know how I survived this far but I was alive somehow.There was little of me left but I was here.
MICROPHONE
from
"Shiver, Shimmy and Shake"
by Andrew Mondia
Sometimes I can break away
shimmying to and fro.
How I long to be free,
to dance wildly through the air
dancing on end, free from any attachment.
by Mary Belardi Erickson
When a tree turns inside out, if it's not lightning striking
or the tornado set on puree, it has to be a woodcutter.
Mill and nails and mounting boards like me appear in hobby stores.
I had orange, black-laced wings arranged on me,
with a butterfly's thorax pinned, and antennae and legs
made to appear as if paused in flight--perhaps upon an imaginary flower;
the dying specimen whispered its dreams for one last sip of zinnia.
OCEAN
Wave to me and I will wave to you
small pup, black lab
standing on wet shore
my salt spray splash wetting your nose
west wind, swirling sand
settling around your paws
your prints, a meandering trail
along cool water's edge
my lips, ocean blue
a wet kiss on secluded beach
RAINDROPS
“You know, I once knew a rainbow,” said raindrop#147 to raindrop #568.
Oh God, here we go again, thought 568.Every time I finally get to descend back down to the Earth in one of my only moments of furious ecstatic glory I end up next to on these guys.
Just once he wished to be left free to plummet down in pure blissful silence and be left to concentrate on finding his mark on the forehead of some overworked soul who needed a good splash from life’s ever changing dreariness.
SIGNATURE
by Rebecca Rose Taylor
When Nora picks up a pen or paintbrush, I get excited knowing that I will probably be needed. The feeling of the pen’s nib on the paper sending me sprawling on the page is a magical feeling. I am a sensory creature, and I know the difference between quality and draft work. Whenever Nora is putting the final additions on her paintings, she uses a soft skinny brush that makes me feel wonderful; this brush is like a favourite friend that you have not seen for a while but long to be with.
SNOWFLAKE
by Wilma Seville
Now I ask you, don't you think those parts of the world are missing a great deal? I often ask myself why people go to sourthern climates the minute the weather turns colder. My feelings could get hurt by that. After all, I bring a covering of white, one snowflake at a time. I cover foxes dens with this blanket, squirrels leave footprints on me, dogs love to roll in me, and even cats seem to enjoy feeling me fall on their whiskers.
SNOWFLAKE
by Jennifer L. Foster
Another day lay ahead on my shivery post on the iceberg...but no, I was startled to realize that far from being part of a colossal ice palace, I was right back where I had started. Why, I had never left my mountainside home in the Rocky Mountains at all! My bed was on the tippy point of a dried-out spruce needle dangling from the empty nest of a bald eagle. I must have drifted partially down the mountainside during the night.
STATUE
by Bob McCarthy
Skyward I have always gazed
Toward heaven and my memories
Of the four Lawrence children
No one ever notices me any more
Even the many who pass nearby this day
About my shoulders, held by dainty palms,
Nineteen ivory roses in a garland lay atop my
Gossamer gown of faded white almost
Enveloped by the many-hued greens and
Lavender of the foliage about me and my feet
WEDDING RING
It only takes her ten minutes to arrive at his house. The time it takes becomes shorter every day. She adjusts her rear vision mirror until she sees her whole face. Runs a few fingers through her hair, reapplies lipstick, a bit of breath freshener and turns to smile at the young man walking towards her. He smiles back.
Well, that's it for this edition. I hope you enjoyed the stories and poems. And please remember: send comments and feedback to the writers, and to me! We all need to know how our words are affecting others.
Monique Berry, Founder
