Exterminating Angel Press

Creative Solutions for Practical Idealists.

poem

Cannon Beach.

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by David Bolton.

We’re sitting on a petrified log, facing the turquoise
Pacific. Chi Gong & Tai Chi have put our minds at rest…

Huge rock in distance, half hidden in mist, as if nature
has a secret to share with those who see…. We’ve come a
long way to sit on this blanched log…

It’s Not a time for talk.  Food for the creative mind.
Tidepools reflecting a silver sheen

A man in black raises his arms; his daughter, dressed in
pink, mimics the gesture; both in the awe of the sea.

Denise draws. Her eyes drink in the many shades of
green, Caribbean blue. How would they transfer to
canvas? She doesn’t paint reality.

We are here and now. Behind me, mountains were
swaddled in clouds. A line of fog is building on the
horizon. Nothing ceases. Perpetual flow. The world of
gathering and spending far away,

I take pictures with the mind. I put them in words. How
rich can it be?

The Muse.

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by Jerzy Liebert.   How does the word so rush to the sound When another name calling is heard? How does the flame flash over the ground That it’s so bright in both heart and word? Translated by Charles S. Kraszewski  

Spring.

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by Jerzy Liebert. Each bird insanely trills. Stags rest their antlers on the breasts of birch. The blue sky aches for the green earth With flaring, trembling, moist nostrils. Leaves and sap burst from the trees. Drunkenly reel both clouds and beasts. Wonders in sunlit clearings — lily mists. In copses healthy bark snaps wide […]

The Greatness that was Greece.

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by Charles S. Kraszewski. It wasn’t Lucius Mummius who put an end to Greece. The self-inflicted wound was dealt ages before. We call it xenophobia, using the Greek word for it. Since they despised all other languages (and peoples) we Other People had to learn Greek. Otherwise, how could we compete with Persia in the […]

1966, NYC; nothing like it.

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by Diana Morley. Walking down Broadway on a sultry June evening going to an off-Broadway play with a few friends. I wear a long white cotton nightgown with embroidered yellow flowers. We sweep by two guys weaving, waving bagged bottles when one stares at my gown and says, “Oh, I do believe an angel has […]

Sometimes you die, I mean that people do.

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by Gale Acuff. and at our church go to Heaven or Hell and Heaven’s nicer but Hell might not be so bad since so many souls are there says our Sunday School teacher and it’s likely that that’s where I’ll go when I die since I sin a lot for only ten years old, I’m […]

Dream Shapes.

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by Barry Vitcov. I was floating like a cloud, vaporous edges changing shapes, positions accommodating soft and hard winds, amused by other surrounding forces before waking as opaque panels of tin, a box kite tethered, not subject to whimsy, while spooled in and out by pilots with a sense of weather, musing whether or not […]

Fragmentary musings on birds and bees.

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by Cliff Beck. My skin, nose and eyes sense trillions of photo-electric stimuli which my mind will synthesise and simplify to create blue skies, warm bread; every experience that fills my head with memories, generating thoughts, intuitions and future visions. But the more I think the more separated, more complicated I become sat in my […]

12 Baking Essentials to Always Have in Your Poetry.

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by John Van Pelt. 1. The leavening sky. 2. Aunt Carol’s deep-dish ironware pie plate she had since Chicago days with a graying chip off the rim and a capacity suggestive of doubling any modern recipe. Not that Carol ever looked at a recipe, her hooked wrist and crabbed fingers dancing with impossible deftness, scooping […]

Broad Street.

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by Rosalie Hendon. Broken glass spills into constellations on the sidewalk It glitters in the afternoon sun fierce and beautiful too sharp to touch To walk here is to pray Let me not be cut Let me not break