Showing posts with label Marjorie Pezzoli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marjorie Pezzoli. Show all posts

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Featured Poets/Artists: Jerome Berglund & Marjorie Pezzoli

 


Jerome Berglund has worked as everything from dishwasher to paralegal, night watchman to assembler of heart valves. Many haiku, haiga and haibun he’s written have been exhibited or are forthcoming online and in print, most recently in bottle rockets, Frogpond, and Modern Haiku. His first full-length collections of poetry Bathtub Poems and Funny Pages were just released by Setu and Meat For Tea press, and a mixed media chapbook showcasing his fine art photography is available now from Yavanika.


TWITTER: https://twitter.com/BerglundJerome 

BLOG: https://flowersunmedia.wixsite.com/jbphotography/blog-1/ 

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/JeromeBerglundPhotography/




Jerome Berglund

& Marjorie Pezzoli

 

Yet Again

 

cover

 

no one was watching

black and blue

crimson streaks

 

their badges

 

águas mil

suing

for peace

 

watch repair

 

time steals air

second hand sweeps

hourglass breaks


(Marjorie Pezzoli is a silk painter for 25+ years, visual artist, storyteller, and poet. Her writings deal with grief, hope, cosmic wonders, and stuff that catches her eye. Her poetry has been published in numerous anthologies since 2019. Many of her writings are inspired by her photographic observations taken while walking Beau, the dog with Betty Davis eyes. Marjorie looks for words that are worth a thousand images. www.Pezzoliart.com)

 

 


John Wayne’s Brain

 

You thought John Wayne was gone,

But a piece still remains.

On a shelf in some closet,

They’re keeping his brain.

 

It looks like a scrotum,

All wrinkled and pink.

Yet that’s where it started,

Those nightmares, just think!

 

He gave it quite freely,

You’d believe felt flattered.

Did he know they’d filet it,

‘Twould appear should be battered?

 

Past owner felt apart,

From all other noodles.

Which helped him immensely,

Turning them to strudel. 

 

In that mind those dozens,

Made for oils on canvas.

Value mere extrinsic,

To glut playful madness.

 

John Wayne was steadfast,

His friends never thought twice.

Wife trusted the smell,

Was because of dead mice.

 

Hope that tissue’s well-guarded,

Under strictest lock and key.

That no bumbling Igor,

Might find and set free.


 



 

Baboon’s Blood

 

 

spicy

noodle bowl

steaming

botched

home haircut

 

 

did me

like

artichoke

hope dip

was satisfactory

 

 

rich man

eyes tray

on carpet

by hotel room

once was hungrier

 

 

people

who have so much

so angry!

…bindle’s lightweight

easy to carry

 

 

playing

self at chess

no thrill

or mystery but

can always win