The March Featured Poet is John Frazee
Please feel free to email John at: johnfrazeexxx@yahoo.com
AQUATIC MEMORIES
Deeper and deeper you plunge, the overhead brightness fades
The first dive is the hardest, the depth, the cold, the darkness
Pressure increases to an unimaginable point
The abyss is so very powerful in its starkness
Down this far it seems to squeeze the very life out of you
A frightful pressure like the touch of death upon your scales
Makes you long for the long forgotten waves and gentle tides
As the degree of discomfort grows, your will to live fails
It’s getting harder to see under current conditions
From this level and beyond the water ceases to flow
Someday you'll make a break for the surface and bring with you
Aquatic memories, a landlubber will never know
TRANSFORMATION
Change is good, or so the philosophers tell us
Sometimes change is obvious, sometimes not so much
Some radical differences these changes make
One side’s hot as hell, the other cool to the touch
No man’s land, the great divide, the vast expanse
Not quite wide awake, yet not deep within a dream
What happens from here to there, this unknown journey?
Here we seek the middle ground, the spaces in between
To venture out where we have never been before
That grey area where so many fear to tread
Grab these opportunities for they shall not last
These fleeting moments from being born to being dead
It’s not easy, we must chose wisely in the end
That’s why life supplies us with an education
Nature offers up a roadmap, skills and courage
To survive this period of transformation
RECIPE FOR LIFE
Decisions like these, when were they made?
When did we chose between morals and might?
While lighting your candle for prayer and peace
Ask just why this flame, has failed to ignite
Precious infants once held in our arms
When did we first teach our children to fight?
In still ever alarming numbers
On both sides we watch as the death tolls rise
As the grim reaper strolls amongst them
A general’s stars, his only disguise
We have been battling forever now
And have somehow lost track of the prize
We tend to our wounded while grieving
Then bury the dead row upon row
Why do we do this time after time?
You would think by now someone would know
They tell us there's no easy way out
When did war become the status quo?
Innocents perish, blood soaks the sand
They’re destroyed by the sword or the knife
Young men charge, with their banners unfurled
As they bring out the drum and the fife
But those are their formulas of death
Here now is my recipe for life
John Frazee resides in Boynton Beach, Florida (temporarily) and also resides under the impression, that like the infinite number of monkeys at the infinite number of type-writers, someday he will accidentally create something worthwhile. He relies on you humans to evaluate the results of this experiment.
He has been published in Skyline magazine, OMNI magazine, The Horror Zine, Twice the Terror: The Horror Zine Anthology, Death Head Grin Anthology, My Word Wizard, Aphelion, StoryMania, The Horror Zine Magazine, The Original Van Gogh’s Ear, Dangerous Poets Collective, Blood Moon Rising and Black Petals.