Silver Spans the Sky

The earth so loved the sky she
opened her pregnant desire to him

and gave him her verdant green life to create a new day

The moon turned vibrant florescent
blue and the sky a flaming fuschia

My heart’s been aching

Jes sitting here hurting waiting on

you to come on home to me

I feel like rain inside silver stains the sky

Sitting here all alone a misery

Drying raindrops falling from my eyes

everyday is a just a new goodbye

hard to find a good guy

the weather is heavy like the storm
in my head waiting release praying

The strain of the rainstorm pulsates in my head

Imitating that storm about to explode

The light turned bright red

Feigned delight while waiting on green

That rain is sure to let go 

constrained by rain thunder claps in my brain the rain maintains

A steady downpour in my heart

If it weren’t for the sound of silence rain brings in its wake

I’d go insane waiting for rain

For the few who listen sounds of silence run deeper

than an underground well of experience
spreading tense suspense

It feels like rain relieves the pain I rein
in the mundane world around me

Like the desert needing rain I wait

For the downpour a steady rising in the sun

A false start a heady heart a steady downpour in my heart

Like rain I’ve never been smart in charting my course

Let me explain I try to refrain try to abstain
but it happens again and again

Like rain washes the dirt away, the pain lessens when I
eat dessert flirt with a new day

I revert to before the steady downpour of rain inside my heart

It feels like rain again today waiting for me take control

over a new domain in the fast lane

like a desert waiting for rain

I can’t complain I can’t contain the rain
inside my head it’s like a hurricane

Maybe the Dexedrine will dissolve the hurricane

A deluxe downpour of rain restrains my brain

A campaign takes hold for the rain to cease
along with my pain in my heart

Mozart the push cart prize to see the sun rise another day

Oh baby it feels like rain again today no
matter how hard I soothsay

It feels like rain today my life’s not in vain

A downpour of rain streams steadily in my heart

I sit and cry wonder how and why
the past has disappeared so fast

busy busy bee busy me

For those who don't know we finally got the Cartier back up and gunning.


If you want to download - click below
The Cartier Street Review

To only view - the link below is for you
View The Cartier Street Review 

We welcome Mike Finley here to our elegant hard working staff. Mike is responsible for layout and for getting our mag out this issue.

A hand to staff for their untiring energy in reading and sorting through submissions.

Marc Carver
DubbleX
Brad Eubanks  and click here too
Thomas Hubbard

If you are submitting for the first time- please follow these rules: Thanks to Mad Swirl for sending them to me!

1. Write something in the subject line in email to tip us off what you are sending, for example, poetry submission along with your name

2. Provide a greeting. "Hello" or "Dear Editor" works great.

2. Include a very short bio. For example, "I am John or Jane Poet". Wow, that's easy! 

3. Thank the people you are sending your submission to for taking the time to read it.

4. Include a closing salutation with a name at the end. "Sincerely, John and/or Jane Artist".

5. Don’t send more than 5 or 6 pieces maximum.

A celebration of a nation

I stand at the station

The vibration of dehydration

A severe water shortage

my hand lies upon the rail

They thought the industrial revolution

would be the solution

But it only caused humongous pollution

and made our situation worse

nursing our purse strings

There’s no absolution for the planet’s destruction

the summation of our nation requires

a delegation to provide an explanation

For the oil spill libation, the denigration of our earth,

the aggravation for future generations

Is there any salvation?

A dearth of information with the
roar of despair another new scare

As if you can make oil disappear

my words lingers like smoke the crowd inhales them

Join the midnight foray into the city wilderness –

express suppress obsess and transgress the information

deliberations lead to impressions

so - you got a standing ovation for a braised hen

dazed crazed and fed you’ll get phased
out too with introspection

remember - we’re only small atoms
in the evolution of this universe

we need to stay in motion for the duration

of our generation to achieve salvation for our planet

15 Minutes to Fame

A moment opens to eternity

Fastidious, attached to passing moments, 
I live in Warhol days

An open heart mends wounds

Are you for or against them? What’s your political game?

Everyone's got his 15-minutes of fame

Are you on their side or mine? Is it them or is it us?

Is there an us anymore? Who is us anymore anyway?

Anywhere I’m supposed to know? Did you know …

My headache keeps me awake to 
cover the worldwide news

An open wound  ~ Nightly sound of the evening news

A bleeding ulcer seeking to be healed

Closer to home news too, all news is bad news

Except the rescued puppy thrown in to control you

A news-forecast makes everything worse –

Ignore the news a week or two; say your regards to Pluto

Ignore my bleak forecast of doom

All of us are doomed anyway

The more you do - the more gets done

When you stop doing there’s no more to get done

Another open wound …

Always the dream remains of another go-round

Take care. Hope … to see you there

If & when there is another go-round

And the winner is

Congrats to Joyce Braxton Coley who won the $100 to spend. Have fun Joyce while the rest of us cry and wonder why we didn't win anything.

desperate for cash or goods ... sounds like a johnny cash song

Free!  Free!  Free!

I'm hosting a giveaway from CSN stores worth $100.  CSN stores has everything you could possibly be looking for - from unique coffee tables to the kitchen sink and everything in between with something for everyone and prices to fit every size pocketbook for all you bargain hunters.

CSN Stores has pocket books, furniture for every room, even that new red bicycle with rugs, clocks and everything under the sun with over 200 stores to choose from.

One of you lucky people who who leaves a comment, sends me a private email or twitters about this $100 giveaway will be the winner. Twitter-ers please send me a heads up to let me know you've twittered this. I'm violetwrites on twitter too!

It's hard out here for a poet for everyone I hear
Almost too much on a sister to a bear
I keep trying to make that moolah
Hooray for you and me - money for free!
free is an offer difficult offer to refuse

Next Monday September 27th I'll put all the names in a hat and pick one. Good luck everyone.

Comment Published at NY Times online

The link to the article is here:
Court Dismisses a Case Asserting Torture by C.I.A.

My comment is published here!

I think torture will never end and the populace can't possibly know what is going on because we are not permitted to. Europe is a little better than we are in providing information but in general information is controlled. Every news report will have several things; worldwide, state and local by county in addition to a few human interest tidbits. Remember we had a president who was going senile and knew nothing about anything - for god's sake he was an actor! And Ollie North took the fall! And we were told zip. Till today we still don't know who killed Kennedy and I suspect the CIA was involved. Hell how many of you are so naive you believe one silly guy who was killed did it all on his own.
Of course it's absurd for people to burn the Koran because it makes no sense to call this a protest; it's another hatemonger act. To destroy religious symbolism for the sake of protest. Kind of reminds me of the 60's when women burned their bras and men burned their draft cards but what makes this different is that it's outsiders who are being destructive and hurtful. If for example, Muslims want to protest something in their religion or culture that's a different thing.
Protesting a religious book because terrorists who happen to be Muslim hit the towers doesn't make sense. It would make more sense to distribute these books as a gift to a Muslim organization.
Actually we killed more of our own on 9/11 by forcing them to stay in a building where they'd be trapped and die and this was done supposedly with the good thoughts about preventing stampede. I know one woman who told me about how she escaped and sneaked out.
The world is a crazy place and hate will make it more crazy.

10 most amazing slam poets

I got an email from Onlineuniversities.com asking me to share the following link with my readers. I'm excited to share with you their article 10 Most Amazing Slam Poets on YouTube published on their blog at the enclosed link.
It seems to fit right in with our previous post of shared poetry, music and bluetry.

THERMODYNAMICS

I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
And am engaged in a losing battle
I try in little ways: I make up the bed,
Call creditors, respond to landlord complaints about DubbleX
Call doctors, write letters to tons of official agencies

Very little seems to help
I keep trying to create order amidst chaos
Life is stories strung together like grapes
Hanging unpicked b4 my eyes
Right there why can’t I see it

I keep looking and trying to touch
I can’t see all the fuss
Ur sweet soft lips pressing against mine
I look into your eyes, your face so fine
I see the little boy inside your eyes
Hidden away from prying eyes
Longing to be freed
The hurt small boy deep inside
Longing for a sheriff’s pin

I want to get back to where I thought you used to be
Wearing your red knit jersey hoodie
Your soft brown eyes shining thru
The dichotomy of the one I see,
the one who isn’t inside

I was going to ask you a word
Umm that sandalwood smells so good
Can’t remember what the word meant
Forget it, everything is falling apart
The bridge on 225th Street is falling down
You tell me on your return

I keep on trying to keep order amidst chaos
Amid stories strung together for their own sake
Sharing our poems about love, tranquility the strife of life
Park walks with chalk talks & loving challenges
To the world, I keep trying to hang on
To hold together the I & I as the cracks in the glass
Increasingly multiplying forming 2 X 2 numbers
The cracks so deep it’s like a crevice where lava has run down

Flowing like my intuition
I’ma’ sit for a minute enjoy the sweet warm taste of the java I made this morning


October 2008

purple hair photos- joy & dubblex