I’m excited to announce my poem “The Snow That Never Falls” has been published at Chewers & Masticadores. Sincere thanks to Juan Re Crivello and Nolcha Fox and their team for this opportunity. It’s always an honor to share my work at Chewers & Masticadores. Thank you, Juan and Nolcha!
“The Snow That Never Falls” (c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
“The snow that never falls cannot assuage The sorrow of the autumn’s grim defeat There is no balm For open wounds No gilded cup To slake the dying season’s thirst No whispered words to quell the fear Of failing heart Forsaken soul Abandoned hope There is no honor in autumn’s demise In absence of the snow that never falls…”
I’d be delighted if you’d read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, be sure to follow and subscribe to Chewers & Masticadores. It’s a wonderful place for those who love writing.
I’m delighted to announce my poem “Eleven Days” has gone live at Gobblers & Masticadores. Sincere thanks to Juan Re Crivello and Manuela Timofte and their staff for this chance to share my poetry with their readers. I’m truly grateful. Thank you, Juan and Manuela!
“Eleven Days” (c) 2021 by Michael L. Utley
“The wind blows Those shadows deeper Into gloaming recesses Of pine corridors As aspens Denuded and shamed By autumn’s fickle fury Huddle shivering In dim dusk
In my heart Those eleven days Of silence tore me apart…”
You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers & Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.
“Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” (c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley
snap-beans in a wooden bowl and tears on her cheeks my mother’s sorrow exorcised by the rite of working hands the ritual of silent contemplation as evening sun gilded her world in holy ephemera her safe place ensconced in her own sacred light her garden her universe
the weeds she hoed during languid summer days of sun-burned neck and aching back how many belonged to her how many the memories of fear and violence in desperate need of eradication her rough ancient hoe her crucifix against my father’s rage her blisters turned to calluses turned to armor her fingers bent with age and arthritis yet strong enough to hold herself together day by day to contain the tears the anger the horror
corn silk her hair was corn silk as she merged with row upon row of papery whispering stalks her naked feet rooting into earth deeply deeply where her spirit lived safe in cool moist soil a fertile loam a secret energy regenerating her scarred soul daily only to be shattered nightly the cycle of the seasons her heart always an autumn heart forever offering harvest to all, then burned to the ground without a thought as my father’s winter approached
I passed her one evening as she sat snapping beans in a wooden bowl her bare feet beagle-draped farm cats lurking amid squash blossoms the westering sun haloing her tired face and she gazed at the distant horizon staring at the empty world a faraway smile nearly touching her eyes as a tear fell among broken beans in her lap and she looked at me then and her smile was terrible an anguish I’d never seen before and I knew that she knew there was nothing either of us could do
This ongoing initiative showcases blogs with fewer than 500 subscribers which I think are deserving of more attention. Hopefully these blogs will spark your interest and you’ll check them out. It’s my way of spreading awareness of talented writers whose work I admire.
This week’s featured blog is Nigel Byng’s Helping You To Succeed. Many of you are likely familiar with Nigel’s exemplary craftsmanship when it comes to prose and poetry. His brilliant short fiction—both stand-alone tales and serials–displays a sensitive finger on the pulse of humanity’s triumphs and sorrows, while his deeply moving and excruciatingly honest poetry shows a heart and soul attuned to the most raw human emotions.
Nigel’s work has been published at various Masticadores literary sites as well as Spillwords Press, where one of his poems, “To Surrender Now,” was nominated for Publication of the Month for Jan/Feb 2024. Nigel has most recently helped spearhead the #whattheydontsee project in cooperation with Michelle Ayon Navajas (editor, Masticadores Philippines) and artist Vanessa Melecio, which provides an opportunity for people to express their hidden fear, pain and regret in a safe manner through the written word.
On a personal note, I don’t just consider Nigel a fellow writer. He’s so much more than that. His compassion, kindness, honesty and intelligence portray a golden heart and soul, and I’m glad to call him my friend.
From Nigel’s blog:
“Writing brings the world to life. My soul, my experiences, my secrets, they all fuel the things I put on paper. I am a freelance writer living in West Palm Beach. I observe and write about nearly everything and everyone I encounter. I have learnt that if I look at the world carefully, and long enough, I see a reflection of myself in everything. After all, we are what we put into the world.”
Perhaps this recent post will illustrate Nigel’s deft literary touch and his ability to connect with his readers:
If you’re familiar with Nigel’s work, you already understand the joy of his craft. If you’re not, consider stopping by his blog and experiencing his unique talents. It’s absolutely worth it.
Let’s spread the love and support our fellow bloggers.
Hi, folks. I’m pleased to announce my poem “My Jade Remembrance” has gone live at Gobblers & Masticadores. Many thanks to Juan Re Crivello and Manuela Timofte and their staff for this chance to share my poetry with their readers. It’s always an honor and I’m truly grateful. Thank you, Juan and Manuela!
“My Jade Remembrance” (c) 2019 by Michael L. Utley
“I used to know you 9,000 tears ago A tear for every mile That kept me from you A tear for every moment Not spent with you A tear for every hope Not shared with you 9,000 tears…”
You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers & Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.
I’m pleased to announce my poem “Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” has gone live at Masticadores Philippines. Many thanks to Michelle Ayon Navajas and Norj Joseph and their staff for this opportunity to share my poetry with their readers. I’m deeply honored and most truly grateful. Thanks so much, Michelle and Norj.
This poem was written for the #whattheydontsee project, an initiative for writers to share poetry and prose that delves into the pain we all hide, the sorrow, anger and fear we do our best to keep buried. I’m indebted to Michelle and Norj for allowing me to share this poem about my late mother.
“Snap-beans in a Wooden Bowl” (c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley
“snap-beans in a wooden bowl and tears on her cheeks my mother’s sorrow exorcised by the rite of working hands the ritual of silent contemplation as evening sun gilded her world in holy ephemera her safe place ensconced in her own sacred light her garden her universe…”
You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, please consider following and subscribing to Masticadores Philippines, where compelling and creative story-telling and poetry await.
my old hoe is dull and the weeds resist its blade still I toil on iron sharpens iron rust begets rust the crucible of life makes or breaks which shall I choose do I even have a choice
my garden’s neglect pains my soul its hardened soil thirsts for more than rain too many weeds too few blooms a loathsome facsimile of the worst of me
these hands cracked and dirty beset by age and the scars of a futile life once strong enough to break the earth shatter stone yet tender still to caress the lotus dry the tears of my beloved these calloused hands empty now save for the piercing splinters and burning blisters of stillborn harvests and sundered dreams
once, long ago across the stream my young man’s eyes beheld the youthful willow nubile and lithesome her slender feet glissading upon the cool water sinuous fronds breeze-blown her sultry-shy gaze beckoning me offering respite from noonday sun and I watched from afar as egret and kitsune nestled in her shadows and I yearned for her but my garden needed tilling my hoe dull even then my back bent from years of struggle my heart distracted by worries of harvests yet to be and in my hesitation she turned away and all was lost
cicadas drone in the bamboo grove their maddening chorus a condemnation their brief lives leave little time for memories but plenty for judgment their desiccated husks reminding me of life’s brevity all I’ve lost all I needlessly carry with me
it has been too long since the rains fell too long since the wind cooled my brow too long since my soul slept too long have I gripped this infernal device my entire existence rooted in this garden of regrets I have become the very weed I wish to slay
still I toil on for there is naught left but to toil until my blade breaks or the harvester’s scythe takes me away
Hello, everyone. I’m happy to announce my poem “Ripples” has gone live at Gobblers & Masticadores. Sincere thanks to Juan Re Crivello and Manuela Timofte and their staff for this opportunity to share my poetry with their loyal readers. I’m honored and truly grateful. Thanks so much, Juan and Manuela!
“Ripples” (c) 2017 by Michael L. Utley
“There are no ripples On this frozen pond The puk-puk-puk of The pebble Skittering on iced skin Dampened by Frost-thick air Breath caught short In lung-numbed gasps Silent words Suspended In wintry sighs Eyes pools of Frigid tear-prisms Bitter empty gelid rainbows Where are you…”
You can read the rest of my poem by clicking this link. Also, don’t forget to follow and subscribe to Gobblers & Masticadores, where you’ll find some wonderful writing and plenty of food for thought.
the yoke of burdensome veracity does not comport with those whose vapid souls would congregate toward lies like moths to flame and frenzy-feed on poison from the troughs of those who wish to lead all men astray
thus in the end your heaven’s impotence could not redeem this unabating hell and all your pithless ersatz platitudes lay shattered in inconsequential heaps the dross of feckless minds and futile means
and though you crow This truth I know! as you insist you ken the gist of edicts straight from heaven’s gate your craven heart betrays you
this truth I know—that there are those who scheme to dominate the spineless weak of mind whose brackish hearts and savage mien await the opportunity to unleash hate and spread destruction in their savior’s name
and wear upon their heads their savior’s creed its name emblazoned red upon their breasts and armed with flag and gun and profaned cross prepare to soon fulfill the prophecies of bloodlust and democracy’s demise
and you proclaim your savior’s name on bended knee and worship he whose rancid heart tears souls apart and vow to kill to please him
the dove of peace and purity is dead its carcass desecrated by the mob its once-white plumage dripping crimson now as boots stamp restlessly and voices hush your vulgar gilded calf about to speak
and all the lies of men pour forth as smoke and all eyes blinded, all hearts burned to ash and all ears hear the trumpet of the spawn and all minds bound as one, their task at hand it’s time to make this country great again
and you shall tread among the dead with weapons raised your savior praised a new world birthed now hell on earth and from above heaven weeps
the monster you’ve created has no name its voice the sound of screams and champing teeth its appetite for wrath insatiable and as it turns its gaze on you it grins and now perhaps at last you know the truth
thus in the end your heaven’s impotence cannot redeem this unrelenting hell and puerile platitudes cannot assuage the damnation you’ve brought upon yourself go forth in horror, your new world awaits
Silent Pariah 