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'Wish You Were Here'
April 2014

 03 May 2014

A Postcard

I was marching
with the world
from the street corner
where I stood

(c) Angel L. Martinez 30 apr-1 may 2014
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

Wish you Were Here

1) “Raimunda” (3/15/2014)

Como un viento a mi madre presente a mi vida.
Y de todos los amores y mi risa que jamás se unió sobre la tierra.
Agua roja en el mundo.
Este es mi sueño
a levantar a los muertos en la vida.

Like a wind of the mother in the presence of my life
And all my love and my laughter
There was a gathering upon the earth
The red waters in the world
This is my dream
To awaken the dead in my life

2) “Leocadia Álvarez” (4/5/2014 Filadelfia)

Una rosa grande en esta tarde
En frente del Río Delaware
Del perfume de todos los poemas
Y la distancia de lo que se madura
Las palabras de mi raíz y mi abuela en el Grito de Yara

A great rose in this afternoon
In front of Delaware River
The perfume of your poems
And the distance which you will mature
Like a word of my roots and my grandmother and
The Cry of Yara

3) “Ana María” (4/17/2014)

La lluvia o los Mombiques de Bayamo
Y por las lágrima del General Antonio Maceo
En la marcha de la dignidad con su bandera de amor
En los años pasados

And the cry for the Mombiques of Bayamo
And the tears of General Antonio Maceo
And the march of dignity with their flag of love
In the years that have passed

© Carlos Raúl Dufflar
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective


She was the 1st woman
In my life
That I flooded
With romantic notions

She had a tragic grace
Balanced by
Exquisite beauty.
I would visit her
And her sister
With my friend Larry
We would talk
And play Monopoly.
Later I learned
That her father
Was alcoholic
And may have beat her.
Her mother had cancer.
But through it all
Like a rowboat at sea
She somehow remained afloat
Harriet was an adjective
Describing exquisite grace
In movement
In her beautiful visage
And in her soul
She taught me
How to draw
In a 3 minute lesson
Her presence wrapped you
In her soft warm cocoon
I wish you were here.

© David Gordon 4/26/14
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective


I wish you were there
to smooth my to sharp edges,
to curb my temper,
so I will stop telling people
they will die
directly to their eyes.
I wish you to stroll in
with the hands in your pockets
and stop me in mid' sentence.
Just catch that ball
and dump it into the swamp,
so I could wallow in it
in my other night.
I wish you were here
with your smiling eyes
and sooth my tongue
if my Czech sounds to harsh.

Marie Neumann

Wish you were here

I sit here alone in this wonderful place
it feels good to get away from the cities rat race
I often visit your favourite wild flower meadow
You liked to just sit and watch the wild flowers grow
The wild flowers blow in the gentle warm breeze
There is something about this place that makes me feel so free
It is so calm and peaceful here
the one place on earth you still feel so near
Sitting on the soft grass you feel so close
Is it really you or is it a ghost
It feels so unfair you were so cruelly taken away
When so many that loved you so wanted you to stay
You always loved it here, it was our special place
Time seemed to pass here at a much slower pace
It brings back so many memmories of you
Its hard to move on to pastures new
Without you here I feel so lost
I need you here whatever the cost
Yet the children need me so I must be strong
So I smile through my pain though it feels so wrong
Maybe I will bring them here some day
To visit you in the place where you lay
For your body rests here but your soul is gone
At least part of you is where you belong
I wish you were here
With all those you held dear
I wish you were here in this beautiful place
I wish you were here I miss your beautiful face

Elizabeth Jury



I missed you
when I was dancing waltz
on the floor
all alone.
There were
forty women
and just two men.
Nobody to dance with.
I didn't think
about the names
and faces -
just someone
who dances waltz well,
so I was dancing
by myself, because
you weren't there.

Marie Neumann

blue nuance

when i have taken
all i can give
my mind
ill at ease
and i
want to reach out
my hand
even though from some
the machete
severing it from my arm
is still a memory

when i have taken
all i can give
dancin on a rainbow
want to see
if i can just drop
a little nicety
try to make warmth reveal

when i have taken
all i can give
i will be dancing
on a cloud
blind purple illusion
will be my umbrella
for the next storm
blue smile overcast

i thought blue
was my slave
had it workin overtime
to soothe an anxious soul
the waves of ocean at midnight
at my beck and call
could be nothingness
could be
a consoling velvety bed with
glitter as its comforter

yeah…i thought
was my slave
but when i met you
there was…
a reversal of sorts
was then
the one
satisfyin blue.

but i won’t
be red hammered anger
on rotting rye bread

i will not be
innocence and honey
civility smooth
at all times
and perhaps still
have no money

but when i have taken
that i can give…
a transformation
my newly post-mortem self
will be my shelter
foundation Love
as i
you were here in
your former capacity
new blue old guard

will you care?...

The Writer's Block

Not nothing no wishes

Not wishing to bring you
This is not such a great yuk
It attracts those likes
Wish you were here types
Creamed up tarts
Apple shruddel wild scent
Can't get out really
Yes it's rosey roast
From the outside wishing
Green grass under feets
Stronger than far away
Green street side sales
Wishing had stayed away

John Sheehy
Hertford Stevenage

Wish you were here

I wish you were here,
and that both of us were still enough
to let the others' presence gel
into a room's quiet, or that earth slowed
to take on board the fitful thought
that everywhere is a heaven of sorts.

Bruce Barnes

Mitch - my Scottish Boy (Knock Hill)

I wish you were here; it’s not the same without you.
The arterial path is still here, with its veins of sheep tracks
Criss-crossing the ankle-high purple carpet of heather
I am not as sure footed as you on the loosened earth,
With protruding rocks, lying in quiet ambush, for my feet
The terrain for you was effortless: you were born for this.
The hill still rises steeply, its scents intoxicating; to me a
Gentle, caressing aroma, to you, they assaulted your nose,
Causing you to run helter-skelter; tongue lolling; investigating
Returning happily once solved, to my outstretched hand
To me the questions remained unanswered and bewildering.
It was your world. I miss you; my hand now only meeting air.
My breathing becomes rapid and my chest tightens, as
I reach the last ascent; but not you; your heart beat,
Remained steady and constant; you were bred for this.
Tail swishing; you would wait for me to catch up
It was a game we played. The memory causes me to smile.
Reaching the top, I am rewarded by a 360° view, as vast
As the 360° devotion you opened out to me. The Moray Firth,
Speyside, the moorland of Braemar and the coast of the North Sea
We’d been to them all together, when everything was fresh and new.
It’s not the same without you, I wish you were here.
Following tradition, I place a loose rock upon the cairn
This year, I choose a second one for you. Side by side,
In obedience; like our bond unbreakable.
Descending the hill, I feel I am leaving you
Further and further behind and the tears fall.
As I click the gate shut, from whence I started
I say goodbye to an old friend, for I shall never
Climb that hill again.

Jan Hedger


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