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GAZING INTO INFINITY by Irma Aguilar-Olivas


When you gaze into a woman's eyes...
prepare to cross the threshold
into the house of her soul...
it is there, where her strength and
beauty will greet you

In the light where a thousand flowers grow
you may want to stay forever...
within the sunrise & sunset of her gaze
wrapped in the arms of her magnitude
adrift within the ancient sea of yesterdays

her eyes reveal she is of passion,
enchantment & fortitude
the place where galaxies are reawakened

set-sail-forth into the depths
of her extended amplitude
your heart will sing
in the infinity of love unshaken.

Poetess, Irma Aguilar-Olivas, is a published Author of, Whispers Of The Heart: A Book Of Poetic Musings. She is currently based in Austin, Texas. Fluent in both Spanish and English, she has been writing poetry in both languages, since childhood. Irma's writing influences are expansive, but include both the seen, and unseen mysteries of life. Recently, one of her poems was selected for publication in the boo…
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So woozy with a crush of gravity is this planet that it’s not enough to embark upon a year-long courtship we call orbit; Our earth TWIRLS at drunken speed, too lovelorn to care about sobriety in its attraction to a star.
And our sun takes notice, how can it not? Earth breathes sweet leafy breath to clothe itself in bridal clouds, Reflects the sun’s shine with its expanse of ocean to say You’re beautiful like this, and, in unfathomable vulnerability, Offers up all its stories with lifetimes of human beings.
With existential mystery like this happening— actually happening— how can our souls not go
(First published May 21, 2019 at
Cricket Baker is a novelist and blogger who writes on distinguishing between the Real You and the Pretend You. After decades of love for psychology and what she calls her ‘little awakenings,’ Cricket chooses reality over any belief and easily loses herself in wonder over the existence of anything at all. She’s figur…

CHOPPY SEAS by Anita Neilson

As I can’t walk far, my husband sometimes takes me on a short trip to the coast (we only live around 20 minutes’ drive away). Sometimes I’ll want to visit one of our favorite ‘tame’ beaches where we used to walk our two dogs when they were younger. I have such beautiful memories from those trips: our black Labrador was an incredibly strong swimmer and would relish jumping over bigger and bigger waves to retrieve a tennis ball thrown in for her; the younger dog preferred to paddle along the shoreline, less confident in the deep water.  Then it would be time to go home, with the car smelling of damp dogs, snoring contentedly in the back. Simple joy that puts a smile on my face even now. I can still smell the salt air, and the damp dog in car smell; I can still see the sun glistening like diamonds on the sea; I can still hear the occasional airplane taking off from the nearby airport and heading out over the sea to America; I can taste the salt on my lips; I can feel the sand ingress thro…

THE THINGS by Ulli Stanway

The Things
 by Ulli Stanway
The things that make you not fit in. The things that make you the odd one out.  Hold magic and wisdom within.  You see, what they think is weird, too much and indifferent.  Really is a blazing woman, standing strong in her own power and beauty. Full-Hearted. Untamed. Unapologetic, It is She, who Roars.  And She is you. 
This poem first appeared in Ulli Stanway's debut poetry collection, SHE ROARS.  To obtain your own copy, click here. 
Ulli Stanway: I am a poetess/writer/day dreamer, life lover and author of SHE ROARS. I live in Melbourne Australia with my beautiful husband. I love nature and I am a confessing tree hugger. I invite you to  visit my website "Heart Rehab" here, which I hope will inspire other kindred souls to follow their own dreams and skip down a path they truly enjoy. I believe in becoming your authentic self, become who you are with all your quirkiness, weirdness and amazing talents. We don’t need to have countless copies of the same stor…

FROSTING by Anita Grace Brown


i have a lot of love to spread around
its thick like white buttercream frosting
sometimes people taste it and thank me
smacking their lips, an obvious appreciation for the sweetness
sometimes people stare at it
stare. at. it.
as if they don’t recognize what frosting is for
and sometimes they actually say
blech! I tell ya
these people are
but I don’t say a word (except in my head, I have a few choice ones)
I just keep churning out fresh

Anita Brownis a content mother of two teenagers and wife of over 20 years, both of which she is grateful for every day. She began writing poetry in the fall of 2012 after a mini-breakdown cracked open her heart and allowed this newly found gift to shine through. Many months later, she is realizing the truth in the saying that ‘breakdown equals spiritual awakening’ as she is pleasantly shocked at how much more peace she has in her spirit and how that is reflected in her life.  Anita loves yoga, dancing, traveling, cooking, walking her …

STONE AND BONE by Elizabeth Kipp

Stone and Bone (Let’s Heal)

I’m made of
bits of stone
and bone
wisps of hair
and a little despair
I’m fueled
with fire
I breathe
with the trees
I dream
and scheme
I make my start
and my art
from the heart
and after a fashion
express my passion
‘cause if I don’t
grab onto
the now
I miss out
on living
and giving
and thanksgiving
I live in
this sea
of emotion
soft hands
of devotion
in rays
of the rainbow
sun and moon
I’m not immune
to the trials
and trivialities
before you judge
just what
you’re seein’ in me
try walkin’ a mile
in my shoes
I’ll walk in yours
let’s open some doors
see each other
for real
no longer conceal
let’s just heal
stand tall
for once
and for all.

Elizabeth Kipp is a health facilitator specializing in stress and chronic pain management, addiction recovery, meditation, and yoga. She is a best-selling author, certified Kundalini Yoga Teacher (RYT/IKYTA/Yoga Alliance), Ancestral Clearing Practitioner, Bilateral EFT/Tapping Practitioner focused o…

CHOOSING LOVE by Julia W. Prentice

Choosing Love
You choose, sometimes to lose
In the game of love
Seldom are there winners
So the sprint begins
Chaste kisses raining
On eager, trembling lips
To soft caresses
Or clasping hands
Walking together everywhere
Passionate loving,
Or heated climax
And thrill of victory
Soon gives way
To defeat at each turn
Words out of cadence
Stumbling club-footed
Tongue always in the way
Wanting to express
What cannot be?
So the race becomes a dance
Dashing becomes spinning
Whirling and catching
As we fall into each other’s arms
Bending gracefully
Then awkwardly we pause
Panting, sweating, waiting
Lose the beat, music dies
A slow death march ensues
And like the ballerina
Twirling in the music box
We start the dance again
Spinning, then winding down
Knowing full well
That it could be
The slow-dance or the fugue,
The last we lovers can endure
Before we separate forever
The race ended, no victory crown
Just regret, endless regret