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No Regrets Journal
Spring and Words 2014 Issue 12!
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No Regrets, a journal of poetry, prose and images about the twists and turns in the search for love, meaning and community.
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Clayton Medeiros, Editor, Poet, Photographer, Collage Artist.
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Neil McKay (Johnny trash)), Webmaster.
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Submissions are by invitation of the editor
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claymediros@aol.com
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Epublishing site with all issues
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http:/issuu.com/claymedeiros/docs
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Facebook fan page with No Regrets issues, weekly haikus, photographs and poems
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http://facebook.com/NoRegretsJournal
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Story Time May I tell you a story, a not very long story, yet without end as I try this word and that word on a page so you may follow along. Or, stop reading whenever, however you wish, keyed to mood, place, time, recent epiphanies on your part or mine. I do not know what may or can come next. So, I will not warn you about potential events as the, so far, infinite narrative progresses, always there are matters of opinion, state of mind issues in need of consideration. So, I will stop now, just for awhile. Then again....
Type to enter text
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Still wheels sudden spin Carves a path down the runway Engine arias
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Tarmac engines hum Wing shadowed runway puddles Airborn once again
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Historicisms
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I see the world and my predilections Across sentences on journal pages With some memorabilia taped in Going back years and years Across an ever changing mind’s eye In the shadow and sunlight of time’s Simple story held dear with care But not precious in phrases shared Among convoluted poems and stories Parenthetic glimpses of this and that Yet a momentary serenity seeing What has been across the days And once in a while with some Concern for noises in the night
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Tea Dance Haiku
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The dance band plays on Fox trot on the mezanine Widow filled table
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Singing in the rain When your dancing smiling too All’s well with the world
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Tavern
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A man of reassuring bulk filled the bar room door, hesitated would not be the right word, he was a force unto himself, waiting for a right moment to do whatever was next in his day now that it was coming to an end in the North End Tavern where names are irrelevant, where size does matter, where drinks are bought, shared with a friendly crowd.
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Windward
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Just beyond the boat yard And its crane’s obeisance To unknown goddesses Gray mist sails smoothly north Follows some seasonal sign With no possibility of blue sky In the merger of fog and bay Where darkness and light Coalesce in opaque reality
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Worship
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I pray to miscellaneous gods spread across time’s geography those carefully celebrated in edifices young and old those indifferently ignored in caves and grottoes hidden from contemporary eyes perhaps they hear my prayer not asking for anything personal just a quiet plea for wellbeing for the earth and all it holds
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Memorial
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I explore memories Revenants come to watch Listen to songs and words I recall as I write this Hinted words of love In poetic passages shared An infinity of silent intentions To be somehow recognized in Hand gestures across the table Looking up from a cradled book
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! The snail led the way This morning’s almost sunrise Brings his words to light
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! ! Silence in the trees High moonlight attends the walk No words are exchanged
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Reading Ryokan
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