April 10, 2006

Today is a good day for manifestos. Write one, for whatever cause.


Mi Festo


Text Box: No More Barriers

No more barriers
no more false rivers

no more secrets
the time is opening

no more borders
snaking through people

no more darkness
& no papers

fight for light

from Texas Waterhole Guzzles
Willard Vega                Téjas


The earth turns and so we say, "the sun rises everyday,"

creating prisms through the crystal ball at my window.


My cat, new and already too fat, is still afraid of many things.

Her disposition a consequence of a life before me, and us, that I will

never know.


I wait, expectant, prayerful to Yemanja, for requests made at the


Requests made in white, with tears, pennies, petals, paper, and



Smiles for reconnections with long, although not so lost, friends.

Conversations over bad food about being mean to tourists and white

people -

            the struggle to not begrudge others their wealth.


I settle into routines of love, laundry, lounging, parking tickets.

We become a regular couple at the grocery store, longing for leisurely



I settle into the stress of moving the car from side to side everyday,

making plans for work, writing, and a life off the grid.


paula austin                                          Chapel Hill, NC





Poetry Manifesto
inspired by L. Ferlinghetti



Wom@nifesto 2006


I declare



that all workers should be

let out of their cubicles daily and not on a leash

to roam the parks and city freely

to dream and think creative thoughts


that there should be days when

people are encouraged to wear the same colors

connecting us to each other

in subways busses streets and parks


that all politicians must read

famous poets and philosophers as a

prerequisite for office and write some

poems and essays daily at bedtime


that dogs and pets should not be treated

as babies or people anymore but be allowed

to go back to their authentic

animal natures and ways


that there should be one grand day of exhanging

goods so that all our fallen by the wayside

things can be reused and become

another's beloved objects again


that there could be places throughout the city

where all artists musicians poets writers

could show their work for all to see and let

the people decide what was good and worthy


Sue Machlin, NYC



“A poem is a voice for change” -
a request for ice-cream on a hot day,
a warning against too much darkness,
a caution to be wary of too much light.

Poetry is that wise-ass kid
snickering in the back of the classroom,
singing on the cross-town bus,
and riding between subway cars.

A poem mutters, yells, murmurs, exclaims,
decries, sighs, oohs and ahs, demands, and sobs -
it speaks in countless vociferous ways.

Poetry is meant to reconceive,
reinvent, recreate, rebirth and renew -
          What you will.

                             Shannon Klasell