Saturday, August 19, 2017


If one was well enough to do everything one needed to do, to get relief one sought,
then one wouldn’t need the help he needs in the first place, would he?
Life is Catch 22 of the universe
He said, “I don’t understand why you insist on helping him,”
“I want to,” I said, “It’s a feeling I have and want to.
What difference does it make to you?”
While we waste time on bullshit,
Epiphany strikes suddenly, a new sight, an oversight
The answer to the question to make evil disappear
warnings served years ago come into play with global warming
Ignoring criticism about forefathers back in the day of humanity
Helps me glimpse the truth that we’ll never get away
Now technology makes it impossible to hide away
Know our religion, know when we pray
Tracked by GPS, our cell phones, credit cards tracked, petition signing
Usage tallied and compiled daily
Threats to control humanity
Spread the word today
Trickle down abuse flourishes

Foster peace in a world of abuse
Propagate hope, knowledge widens the scope,
Many see trickle down abuse encompassing earth
Come see, you know whom I mean!
They ~ the big they, you know who they are,
They will not give us back this glorious great land.
They fight for coin and silver.
Slowly we go to slaughter, 
Like pigs, goats and cows,
We kill ourselves in their sham.
Forced to pay more than our share of taxes
It’s only paper you know, 
No more gold in Fort Knox.

All the gold owned privately
Who's in charge of our government?
Symbols lurk every place you see
Small, insidious, devious concerns surround us, 
Controlled by society, daily news, 
TV, our jobs families, forget our conscience
Our desires prevent our seeing
Facebook and twitter rule you can’t see
Enough to spin your head, dizzy,

Can’t comprehend why Facebook
Warns you not to add more friends,
You can only add so many each night
Isn’t adding friends a boon to Facebook?
Every day it becomes more difficult
to understand the world I’m living in

They are not going to give our land back
If we don’t fight for our rights,
if we don’t take earth back from the usurpers
who have stolen our planet,
We can’t inherit the earth by common assent,
agree our land is not sold for gold,
this land is god’s gift,
is not ours to give or buy,
but to love and care for 
like we do our children …

This land is your land,
This land is my land
From California to the New York island
From the red wood forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and Me.

Thursday, August 03, 2017

Review by author, publisher, poet, writer, and musician, Thomas Hubbard

Book review by Thomas Hubbard
Tupelo Honey & other tales, by Joy Leftow Published by Aquillrelle, 2017
164 pages
ISBN 978-1-365-84019-7

Don’t stop with ”one more pill...”
Nearly everyone who writes poetry passes through a period of pure autobiographical poems, usually defining themselves as “isolated” because of gender, race, religion, appearance or some other personal trait. The first piece in Joy Leftow’s collection, Tupelo Honey & other tales, is such a poem. BUT, unlike most victim poetry, it is a well crafted, literate work incorporating “rap” that actually expresses cogent information.
So Joy Leftow has indeed been there, and may still revisit occasionally. She has also developed much farther, turning out poems that look into others’ lives. Leftow’s title poem for this collection is “Tupelo Honey,” a heart- wrenching glimpse into the troubled life of a methadone baby who is also HIV. It’s been said that good writing produces a “word picture.” This poem goes beyond “picture” to produce a photograph in words. Have a tissue handy.
In “American Train Trip,” Leftow touches on another poetry staple, a poets’ poem. She relates, with what must at the writing have been a quirky half-smile, a train ride that turns
into a poem about a train ride that turns into a poem. Careful now, don’t trip.
In this collection you will find poems of nearly every type, even a nature poem titled, “Summer Yields to Autumnal Equinox.” Another word photograph. What is really important about this collection and about its author is its range. Reading through these poems you will see most of the stops a developing poet makes on her way to mastery. And having finished your first reading of Tupelo Honey & other tales, you may well find yourself buying another copy, or two, for gifts to friends—because this is not a shelf book. It belongs on your bedside nightstand. You’ll wear it out.