Monday, April 25, 2011

April Selections, 2011

Greetings, Friends, and welcome to the April 2011 Selected Poems of the Full Moon Poetry Society. We take submissions ever month. Submissions can be entered at our website,, or sent to

And now, our first and second Selections -

Electric light surpassing the moon: my confusion;

Moonlight kissing the dark water: your brief touch.

-- Dan D'Agostino

Optical physics posits

that there is no absolute black

nor is there absolute white

as one requires the absolute absence of light

and the other requires that light prevail over all other energy

in an exactly balanced spectrum

to an infinite degree;

one requires manic laughter and the other sadness without cease.

Astral physics confirms this thinking.

Travel deep enough into the most profound Black Hole

and you come out on the other side

to another explosion of light

into nova and then again; in infinite flux.

The only absolutes in the existence of life energy are impermanence and change.

You can’t laugh beyond entropy

and you can’t stay sad forever but you can shade your shit;

be cool and shade your shit.

You can wear dark sunglasses in the darkest darkness; just don’t close your eyes.

-- Richard Velez

Third and Fourth Selections

The twilight quiet of the evening

would be perfect were it not

for the persistent whine of

near-invisible mosquitos.

Day would be satisfactory

were it not so hot, and dawn,

radiant in her pearlescent robes,

sends me packing, cursing dew-soaked shoes.

Is art impossible without

a dose of bitters, Angostura,

charging sweetness and intoxicants

the way a defect in a pretty girl

can startle a bland face

into the Beautiful

--Patrick Mizelle

From these eyes comes

the sight of the dogwood blossoms,

from these ears comes

the sound of cars rushing by outside like crashing waves,

from these feet comes

the feeling of cold tile,

from this nose comes

the smell of spring rain.

From this flute comes

a song

played by a musician

who shall remain anonymous.

--Jesse Cardin