Undertow Inbox
by John Stack

I am your Higher Power. Today I will be handling all your problems. Please remember that I do not need your help.

If life happens to deliver a situation you can not handle, DO NOT attempt to resolve it, kindly put it in my In-Box. It will be addressed in my time, not yours.

Once the matter is placed in the box do not hold onto it or attempt to remove it. Holding onto it or removal will delay the resolution of the problem. If yours is a situation that you think you are capable of handling, please consult me in prayer, to be sure it is the proper resolution.

Because I do not sleep or slumber, there is no need for you to lose any sleep. Rest my child. If you need to contact me, I am only a prayer away.

Love,

Your Higher Power

Author Unknown

A Better Word For Drowning
by John Stack

Diamonds

The Sea had it
out for Charlotte.

Jealousy is Nature
second-nature,

and did you know
that disasters
are no mere
mindless stab
nor an Act of God
(there is no god),

but rage and envy,
and almost always
love, because it hurts.

Squares or diamonds
it’s all a matter
of perspective,

but the Wave
was brilliant
in the Sun!

And diamonds were
what caught her.
Too Helenic, and after
a day on the feet,
had thought the sea
her mother.

There should be
a better word
for drowning;
heavier than
thirst.

By Kasmira Barrett

SOLD

Break Wave
by John Stack

The day the flag sounded like
a sail ripping on its hinges
I chain smoked a pack of cigarrettes.

There was contempt in her eyes
When I came home

As if I should’ve known
All of those things
that lie beneath
the break wave.

"The Break Wave"

Poem by Haley Hefetz

Apparition
by John Stack

“Apparition”

For her

now with someone
Else between the sheets
Awkward,
And unfamiliar

Viewing it all
As a spirit
Hovering
above

And I,

As if at the
scene of an accident

stemming the blood flow

to keep the soul
from leaving the body.

Poem by Haley Hefetz

A Victim of the Seasons
by John Stack

"I Succumb"

I am an old oak tree,
The summer’s greens have faded.
Youth has traded its energy
and surrendered to life’s breeze.
This is evident in my leaves,
the ones that fall with every gust.
Succumbing to life’s tease,
Now brown and bare is this old oak tree.
Fly sweet leaves of memories,
ride the breeze with no care.
Leave me here, a victim of the seasons,
To leave for youth you have all reasons.
I succumb to the growing cold,
I can no longer provide any life.
I find with time my mind grows old
and loses grip with each leaf that falls.

Poem by Jay Dom

Send me your writing

contact me or read more for info.

More work will be released in winter 2011.