FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: BITTER SWEET Send up to three poems on the subject of or at least mentioning the words bitter and/or sweet, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on September 20th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Bitter Sweet will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, September 21st between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Tuesday, September 17, 2024

CLS Sandoval

Bittersweet

Whenever I get bitterly lonesome for you at night,
I am compelled to hold my own body tight.
Deep within me, your sweet, sweet scent lingers,
And remnants of your body’s dew coat my trembling fingers.
My mind is simply consumed with this litter,
Because time without you is so very bitter.
Finally, my soul is able to find its retreat,
In memories of you, which are so very sweet.
Beneath my hardened surface, oh so tough,
Of you, I really cannot get enough.
Our sweet time together, for now, we must borrow,
And this thought alone fills my heart with bitter sorrow.
As I give in to my internal monologue,
I pray that we never see our love’s epilogue.
Your sweet scent always makes me so sure,
And it has become bitterness’s only cure.
Before I go so far away, I will see you just once more,
Walking away from you will leave me bitter and sore.
I do not know if I have the strength to turn around,
Because I revel in this sweet love that we have found.


I Can’t Let Go
Elephants carry their babies inside of their bodies longer than any other mammal for 22 months. I didn’t carry my babies in my body, but I keep bonded to them now.

Lionesses fiercely defend their young for more than a year, as to alligators, carrying their young from the nest to the water with the protection of their teeth. Like a lioness or alligator, I will defend my children to the death, and they may always take this for granted, as well they should. Sometimes I fear that I have taken my children for granted.

Chimpanzees stay bonded to their young well into adulthood and dolphins keep their babies on their breast for two or three years. I have never nursed my young, but I may have spoon-fed them too long.

Gray kangaroos carry their Joeys in their pouches after they are born and helicopter until they are finally independent. Sometimes I feel that I have kept my daughter in my pouch far too long and other times I feel I have allowed her to escape and hop away too soon.

Giraffes may, drop their babies from quite a height onto the ground at birth, but the females will travel with their mother often on until she dies. Many nights I fear that I stopped traveling with my mother for too soon. She’s still with me for now, but it feels like there’s far too much lost time.

Gazelles hide their babies in the grass and gorillas care for their young full-time until they are toddlers, and all mouth brutal fish keep their eggs safe in their jaws.  Orangutans wait seven or eight years between babies.  Their infants don’t lose physical contact with their mother for months and they nurse for over half a decade while orcas stay with their mothers for life. I may be an animal who is mothering too long. I know that I have never stopped needing my mother. Still I wonder if I am holding onto too tightly to my babies.




Poetry Club
He’s clad in tweed wrapped in burgundy
But I didn’t mean to notice
There’s a song in my heart in a duet with his soul
But we’ll never speak about it
The polls are in and you’d think I’d cry of defeat
But instead I’m sending another text
To ask how his day went
I’m still at the front of the room talking too loud, not meaning to hog the spotlight.
I’m still paying for that mistaken text I sent to the wrong man.
Perhaps I’m overselling him,
but I’ve never been so moved—maybe I just want to be liked.
They’ll never understand why I care so darn much.
I am that girl in the back of the room clad all in black who just tries not to be noticed, the blender after a spoon made a round, the tip of my Pointe shoe going for just one more pirouette, the crazy woman.

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