2011 - I

2011 - I

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    Broken

voices whisper the warning around
the room like a hot potato-
"She's a bleeder"-rubber band sound
as gloves snap on the hands of those

people who will never touch me
fear of me and my blood, if I
could move these arms, wrapped in tape, glued
in place, suspended from hooks, I

could shake free the needle in my
neck--powerless, I control the
entire room




Holly Day

Holly Day

 Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis,
Minnesota. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Oxford American, The
Midwest Quarterly, and Coal City Review. Her recent books publications
include Guitar All-in-One for Dummies, Music Theory for Dummies, and Music
Composition for Dummies.

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Red the Sky

Red was the sky, that even time; also ran red the decks,

Red from blood, on the sea of storms.

Sinking wrecks were seen, ships once proud, now dying hulks.

Tossed by the waves, floated lifeless forms.

White sails, of the victors, did command the waves, sure of life,

Without mercy, most cruel their lord.

Small boats, from the ship, our only hope, else our fate to die,

Neath the waves, or by the sword.

Covered in blood, our captain lay, racked by pain, death his portion,

Father and guide of us all, to him all honor be.

Lost our cause, our fleet doomed, our kingdom now open to raid,

Grant us life dear lord, and our wives to see.

Jerome Brooke