Thursday, August 29, 2013

Finally Finally ...

This was a very tough issue for me as I had no one to do layout except me. As it turned out, the cover was created online using pages which it took me a minute to figure out. With the rest of the issue I used microsoft word which didn't seem any more difficult than pages but is a bit easier than Adobe in Design. I spent about 20 hours and a full day sitting at my computer. Boy was my butt sore!


Here she is in all her glory.

Short stories, poetry and art.

Featured Poet:   M. Miriam Herrera

Featured Artist: Chor Boogie

Yay for me I made some headway!

The Cartier Street Review is out July 2013

Other artists:

Joe Giodano

Florence Weinberger

Thomas Hubbard


James Maloney

Sunday, August 18, 2013


Cellophane moon rides high in sky
Moon tides burst with song
Stings my unnurtured heart with ruptured longings deeper than sea ringing inconsolably
Jimmies the lock triples the false starts below the bistro glows yellow lights glimmer
Flickr the night away dreaming fritter the morning sun warming the ground I lie upon
Pray to the diverse universe of sounds emerge reborn from the womb
I am
The sting hurts worse the first time I lay claim to Cleopatra’s birthright
Scent from heaven
Love makes wrongs right
You get it or you don’t
Try harder to bite the dust emerging from my womb
Clean house, sweeps dirt from beneath the rug
hidden corners emerge bathed in dawn’s light
Aglow with merchandise to show I sweep the surface below words running rapids
Afraid of the flow falling unbidden from lips unspoken nerves violet loves
bright blue golden fringed butterflies dance in my eyes

Walking through the rain at daybreak, no longer feel teardrops flowing with the rain
Flooded by memories, past difficulties, unable to eradicate even one memory
Live through memories daily, replay in my head, I can’t deny
Memories thrive, can’t forget no matter how hard I try
Memories linger, replay day after day
Memories cling to me like worn out clothes
I have the sense to trash these memories insist, resist any effort to throw them away
Memories return to torture me repeatedly

Lure me to decipher hidden sentiments tucked away
To lonely dark secluded places deep beneath the rubbish that stands for anything real
I assign a name to a place tortured by time grown wise beyond the horizon
anger seethes beneath crimes committed, I admit my guilt,
“The fault … is not in our stars, but in ourselves.” *
Memories stand in my way. I am my own personal Judas Iscariot.
Between dawn and dusk searching for remnants of luck, stuck in no man’s land
Under a moonlit sun

Lost in traffic disgruntled and disavowed
Eyes gaze into mine deeper than the deepest
see emerging from the constraints in my veins,
crumbs from my womb sweep clean, a diamond ruby triumphs
Blinding sun breaks at the crack of dawn, mystifies soul watcher
Desire tinged edges lost in the catacombs of fire

* Julius Ceasar