Andrew Bambrick
This poem is dedicated to my vanished village and its forgotten customs: the unbreakable bond.
Knock on Pine
Somber men wearing black
Armbands sit up front.
Women in...
Slow Start
Thin white streaks cut across the black sky,
Gradually plum and rose clouds appear.
The golden dawn shines.
THis is the retiree's alarm clock.
It's movement time.
Bits...
Editor's note: May is Mental Health Month.
Catching Shadows
Try catching shadows a child's game.
Thrilling and exhausting.
Impossible to outrun our shadows.
Their appearance and disappearance
A bit scary.
They...
Changing Portable Tools
Lift on high the portable idol,
Our sacred co-traveler, the iPhone.
Idol entry gained
By a tap, slide, access code.
The invisible becomes visible.
Seduction guaranteed.
Distraction expected.
Life...
The Braided Bread
The braided bread
Sustained us across the sea
And kept the stories of our old ways alive.
This Christmas Eve
We gather and knead
The hopes, promises...
Pandora's Jar
The signal given.
Midterm hostilities commence.
Plagues flutter and descend,
Rising from the open Pandora's jar.
Civility is the first to leave.
Envy, spite and revenge follow.
Each plague...
Salt Lick Pleasures
The salt lick is a deer's pleasure.
With head bobbing in mindless repetition
They continue until satiety.
Opioid heads bobbing in mindless repetition
Continue without satiety.
Narcan...
Blood Bath
Within the coming months an avalanche of "pick me"
Political ads will fill the digital world.
Parties and candidates will equate passion with truth.
In heated...
"Buy Me" ads activate our susceptible genes.
Happy talk merchants are anxious
To furnish us with products
Designed to break the chains
Of our discomfort and pain.
From the...
"D" Day Cycle
More prolific than dust bunnies
Under the bed.
Items once memory filled
Now face ejection.
Parting with them inevitable.
Final touching and farewells
Necessary for a ritual release.
Curb...
