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 › Poetry
  • Old Bags

    Web Admin 07/04/2020     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley How about those old bags? Plastic shopping bags that are supposedly banished. Supermarket baggers dole them out like life-preservers on the Titanic. New York City is drowning in plastic. Has the law prohibiting perilous plastic shopping bags been repealed? Why not resuscitate more plastic bottles into reusable carry bags? Pandemic or not—plastic

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  • Pride in Quarantine

    Web Admin 06/03/2020     Poetry, Pride

    By Robert Galinsky   Pride in Quarantine proud enough to discount proud enough to reduce proud enough to deliver fully assembled on the same day with a complimentary cup of fresh squeezed juice “We are here for you, and our expedience is a gift” Pride in Quarantine proud enough to label proud enough to tag

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  • Charlie Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 06/03/2020     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    Never flirt with the boss’ girlfriend. You must ask the right question of the right person at the right time. Great books usually make lousy movies. A father cannot be the friend of his daughter’s lover. Some people are tea, some are coffee. Football will end as inevitably as 
smoking, and for the same reason.

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  • Ode to Corona

    Web Admin 06/03/2020     Articles, Poetry

    By Randee Mia Berman Was planning a trip to Verona But now we’re trounced by Corona We’re all in a panic We’re getting quite manic Next year in Barcelona? The virus wickedly spreadin’ So where in the world is this headin’? Some stay quite calm Like we ‘re in a sitcom; Others feel it’s like

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  • Loveprints

    Web Admin 02/02/2020     Poetry

    By Roberta Curley LOVE is a gripping pas de deux. LOVE cries recycled tears. LOVE is Belgian chocolate and Arkansas diamonds. LOVE illuminates an infant’s face. LOVE is choosing one person with whom to spill the beans. LOVE gallops at a heart’s pace. LOVE stings when you overhear: “What’s wrong with her? She must be

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  • Power of Peace

    Web Admin 01/09/2020     Poetry

    By Roberta Curley Not a touch nor itch scratched no accolades galore   no bloom of youth nor summer’s fire no chorus of weeping for the world   no smile of deep surrender nor love-strewn potpourri no verge on euphoria   nothing compares to the bliss of being at peace with oneself

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  • Waning

    Web Admin 01/09/2020     Arts and Culture, Poetry

    By George Held I raise the blind at dawn, ten degrees Out there, and I see the half moon Low in the cobalt southwest.   The day waxing and the moon waning, Like my life, like my arrhythmic heart. How many more cycles to fullness   Will I see that old moon achieve, That lifetime

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  • 14th Street Traffic

    gcapsis 12/06/2019     Neighborhood, Poetry

    Limerick by Randee Mia Berma Is this a democracy? 14th Street is now auto free. They’re forbidding all cars. Are we on Mars? I need a cup of tea. City roads are getting chaotic. The honking is far from hypnotic. Lyft Uber & Via Are no panacea For New Yorkers becoming neurotic. The bike lanes

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  • Last Licks

    Web Admin 09/03/2019     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley   Eating ice cream is like breathing. It jumpstarts day and night. I mourn summer’s end. It often spells doom for free flowing ice cream.   Licking each novel flavor keeps me from obsessing over my jewelry stash.   Jewelry may be heavy but it’s not fattening. It is said: “a thing

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  • Wooden Wonder

    Web Admin 08/06/2019     Briefly Noted, Photos, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley If I could see posterity,  I’d relinquish my identity,  cork cerebral cacophony,  and roll via schooner on a glass river to eternity  my Hudson escape dismisses reality,  deflects clouds capping crew,  dredges silty ripples and dissolves shore  Photo credit: Roberta Curley. 

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  • Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 08/06/2019     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Charles Caruso  You can do anything they can’t stop you from doing. A man who calls a woman ‘baby’ doesn’t know much about women —or babies. Some people are jelly, some are jam. Power complaint: These outages are outrageous. Dallas was a much greater shock than Pearl Harbor or 9/11. Dallas involved someone we

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  • Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 07/14/2019     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Charles Caruso  Too much is just right. The one who calls is the one in need. From the cosmic to the comic to cognac. Sign outside geriatric clinic: Geezer Diseases. Tea is a slap on the wrist. Coffee is a punch in the nose. Delay is death to the petitioner. The one who calls

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  • Skullduggery

    Web Admin 07/13/2019     Poetry, Politics

    By Roberta Curley Growing older makes me hanker for an anesthetic. At 6 a.m. I spy a chubby crease wend its way from my lower-eyelid to my upper lip. In the past, those ‘sleep lines’ would have vanished by breakfast time. Neither coaxing nor scrubbing erases the propagating interlopers. These intrusive keepsakes operate like indelible

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  • Mermaid Parade Splashes Up Coney Island’s Surf Avenue

    Web Admin 06/24/2019     Arts and Culture, Featured, Neighborhood, Photos, Poetry

    By Karen Rempel Summer began with a splash on Saturday, June 22 with Coney Island’s 37th annual Mermaid Parade. Mermaids, Neptunes, merkids, and merdogs paraded in sea-deep splendor to a crowd of over 840,000 people. The parade ended with Coney Island-born King Neptune, Arlo Guthrie, and Queen Mermaid, Nora Guthrie, together with the self-designated mayor

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  • Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 06/06/2019     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Charles Caruso Politicians: One year they’re inducted, next year they’re indicted. Confession may be good for the soul but it’s hard on a marriage. A president may be a clown but the system that produced him is not funny at all. You can tell a lot about people by how long they leave their

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  • Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 05/04/2019     Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Charles Caruso  New York is the only city where you can see Dada at MoMA. Spring is a promise summer doesn’t keep. Dogs are not as stupid as cats think. The biggest pest is the right-on-time guest. Where were the Three Wise Men when he needed them? Sunrise doesn’t start the day. Coffee does.

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  • Caruso’s Quips

    Web Admin 04/03/2019     Articles, Monthly Columns, Poetry

    By Charles Caruso – A woman’s touch is always a signal. If the passage from life to death is as painless as the passage from waking to sleeping, we have little to fear. Congress: From oversight committees to overlook committees. The shadows of snow. The inevitable orneriness of the inert. There’s a silent click in

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  • Frantic Antics

    Web Admin 03/09/2019     Poetry

    By Roberta Curley To me, you’re no old mare yet a platinum sheen dapples your hair your every breath reflects a savoir faire accenting your mojo extraordinaire   if I could pinch a beauteous lock rare from your tender head—I swear I’d hug it to my heart in prayer that your debonair flair we might

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  • Angels belong

    Web admin 11/08/2018     Arts and Culture, People, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley look what it took for you to uncover their path I won’t gallivant upward not while I’m down here doing stuff like tightening difficult-to-screw-in lightbulbs or whooshing along avenues of the self-interested my plan is to try Daddy, you’d be SO proud your prayers stream in daily I’m striving to budget and

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  • Driven

    Andreea 08/10/2018     Arts and Culture, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley She stoops like those toughened memories saddling her back unashamed of the fabric she braided even pondering a comeback her blood courses and races like a thoroughbred in its paces but her breath whirrs and hums sleep bearing peace which numbs tho vintage consolation prizes ring – a flaming peach sunset in

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  • Neighbors

    Andreea 07/22/2018     Arts and Culture, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley My neighbors start crawling around 5 a.m.— both possess two feet equivalent to four noisemakers totaling eight ballbreakers (with shoes) intergalactic attack-drones set my eardrums afire no intelligent life form would create such mire now I comprehend what ‘rude awakening’ means plus I’m plagued by shattered dreams thumps clumps bumps— even squeaks

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  • Mia’s Mystique—Is It Love … ?

    Andreea 06/05/2018     Arts and Culture, Monthly Columns, Poetry

    Mia’s monthly mug shots melt scores of WestView readers to their cores as her aura bounces off the page pure charm begs viewers to engage Mia resembles Doris Day exhibiting the star’s attributes in myriad ways sporting Doris’s perennially perky smile Mia’s fetching lips curl up in style Mia’s eyes are big love valentines her

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  • SOON IS NOW

    Andreea 05/07/2018     Poetry

    By Roberta Curley March is soups and starches streets smacked with slush April shoots daffodils afoot astronauts a-launching not a soul rushes by clusters of plucky pink impatiens   data-piqued students stow motherboards in cupboards millennials romp in shorts and tees, revisiting ice cream’s glee …soon soon… kids rediscover ball-play and teams, squishing squeaky greens

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  • Audio-Peek

    Andreea 03/09/2018     Arts and Culture, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley   I hear everything but the breathing— the irregular thumps the floorboard thud the squeaks signaling the creaks the twisting coils and I know #2B is embroiled in something familiar. When silence settles and envy subsides, I whisper-wish them well praying that someday I will sigh myself to sleep listening only to

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  • Staring Into Space

    Andreea 02/03/2018     Arts and Culture, Opinion, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley   We boogied on my Dad’s porch. I whooped out karaoke to Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen.” My boyfriend Guy preferred crooning Elvis. He begged me: “(Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear.” I pleaded: “Chill, Guy. I’m capturing the sky.” My blue sky was lined with puffy, white parallelograms. Who knew this

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  • Devastated Moon

    Andreea 12/08/2017     Arts and Culture, Opinion, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley This poem is dedicated to all victims of the October 31, 2017 New York City terror attack. Even the moon is mourning. She’s in protection mode tonight, in cahoots with unsettled clouds who don black crepe to crisscross her full-moon glare. The moon apologizes to worshippers and fans, those reliant upon her—

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  • A Yankee Visits New England

    Web admin 11/04/2017     Arts and Culture, Opinion, Poetry

    By Roberta Curley   I had a moment, I was in the moment. Grace brought me here, grace will take me home. Birds travel safe, I will glide too as the sun, herculean, rises like lemon meringue pie. Ducks dance on water beneath my window panes. A New Hampshire waltz pulls me to its brightness,

    Read more »

  • “Each Day Catches Fire”: Revisiting the Latvian Poet Imants Ziedonis

    admin 05/03/2017     Articles, Arts and Culture, Poetry

      By Bitite Vinklers I first met Imants Ziedonis in New York, in 1978, at a reading he gave at Columbia University during his first visit to the United States. The room was packed, and there was excitement and anticipation in the air. Not only was Ziedonis one of Latvia’s most prominent poets, but Latvia

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