Jane Ward: Snake mother
on the hill.
Wear shoes
mother advised
I ran
barefoot
Snake calling
me, does she
you?
The poem is When She Calls. Listen from C.J.'s Substack blog: https://substack.com/@cjprincepoet/p-163952711
~
Barbara Nilsen: The renegade poet
Who read in the dark (bad) times.
~
Stanley Sabre: We've changed.
We now embrace the powerful shift
To a new life.
~
Marge Seibel: I've never been able to settle on a favorite color
Armloads of rainbows
~
John Fadely: Who wants to watch the end when you can live it?
Your watch was not for time but to shift the energy
... see below for John's complete text.
~
Lou Nelson: As long as a postcard crosses borders
There is a sense of well being in my world
~
Veronica Garcia: When we go to War
Everything bleeds
(Published in Corridor vol. 21)
~
Suzanne Miller: waiting to tell me
what the world
was yesterday
for already
the changes
gallop
Text is from a forthcoming (2027) book of correspondence in verse
~
Robyn Carliss: Moving meditation, plantingbulbs in fall, makingA snow stegasaurus after a blizzard
Tiny moment of precious peace
~
Api Vacová: Yellow violas shine back to the sun
All shall be well
~
Mona Mehas: Her voice is full of dandelions and shattered glass
I smell danger
check my shoulder holster
A job is a job
~
Matt Lutwen: Johnny got his gun.
Picketing with the ACLU
I study Russian
~
Margaret Malochleb: (When you can't catch the moon)
You hear in the waves
A breeze speaks mermaid
~
Cat McCredie: I want to start
a long-armed group to share poetry
as long as my arms reach
to Prague and to Melbourne
~
Vijayalaxmi Maddali:
I'm lost and found
an old pair of slippers
a rhinestone crown
~
Kathy Florence:
Nothing you split
Remains apart
~
Terry Talty: But do not ask me
to make you cookies.
~
Api: I have a bird bath
I look forward to seeing you
More of a letter next time
My blessings to you all
~
Denny Stern: and sulfers of volcanos
diffused with ice cracking vapors
a portal opened
~
Barbara: I am a dandelion
You blow me away.
If I were a Christian
I couldn't be a Republican
from "Dressing for the End of the World"
~
Suzanne: Blessings my dearest word players
Yes, again. Let's do it again.
~
Jane Ward, Barbara Nilsen, Stanley Sabre, Margaret (Marge) Seibel, Veronica Scharf Garcia, Suzanne D. Miller, Robyn Carliss, Apolena Vacová, Mona Mehas, Matt Lutwen, Margaret Malochleb, Cat McCredie, Vijayalaxmi Maddali, Kathy Florence, Terry Talty, Nicholas (Denny) Stern and John Fadely
You can hear C.J. read her poetry here: C.J. Reading
C.J. Prince was our friend, and a vibrant member of the online poetry course called Modern and Contemporary American Poetry, convened by Al Filreis. Through ModPo, we all came to know C.J. well. Our interactions were mostly virtual, but she made our time together feel more than real. When C.J. died in March of 2026, we decided to do a tribute to her work - the video shown here - and to make a book of poems, art and prose to celebrate her.
Her book of recent poetry,Dressing for the End of the World, was published in 2026 and is available for purchase on Amazon. In 2027, the same publisher, LJMcD Communication, will publish a collaborative work between C.J. and Suzanne D. Miller. Suzanne and Mona Mehas are working with the same publisher to bring out the celebration book.
This book will also be available for purchase on Amazon with proceeds going to the Mother Tree Project. John's lines will be in it. He used words from C.J.'s poetry to make a pantoum. Here's the full text.
who wants to watch the end when you can live it? your watch was not for time but to shift the energy I believe that rainbow was your favorite color in your pockets of plenty swarms of letters gathered
your watch was not for time but to shift the energy you’d have given it all away, to the final diamond in your pockets of plenty swarms of letters gathered space this space that, you’d say, but we’re not leaving
you’d have given it all away, to the final diamond a card clothes-pinned to a spoke was the sound of childhood space this space that, you’d say, but we’re not leaving the end of the world is something to dress up for
a card clothes-pinned to a spoke was the sound of childhood the gem-studded breastplate would’ve been too much attachment the end of the world is something to dress up for let the weeping gods sob at their own downfall
goodbye wolves, goddesses and the elephant, your keepers who wants to watch the end when you can live it? in a seashell dwells the scent of every mother I believe that rainbow was your favorite color