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featured poets & artists


joshua gage

poet joshua gage is a pepper pike resident & a regular at the deep cleveland poetry hour. you can buy 'break the slow kill,' his 7-track poetry cd for $5.00 incl. shipping and handling. e-mail pottygok@yahoo.com or write:

Seven Beers and a Hedgehog Press
2568 SOM Center Rd.
Pepper Pike, OH 44124

Deep Cleveland Lenten Blues

Chorus II

like criminal
intentions of piety.
my tires tattooed white
as the lonely path
of a wandering pilgrim.

there, between the lines
of the highway.
the plow missed powder
catches the lake wind
leaving a serpentine wake
in all directions.

oh, that this were
the love in my heart
and the song on my lips.


Ghazal to the wind

Hollow temple bells can only ring to the wind.
Filled with As-Samee, your soul must sing to the wind.

Parents are a noose of silk around their children's necks
But our feet are joyous, always dancing to the wind.

Your wealth upon the altar will but clatter to the stones.
Ash-Shaheed helps working hearts spring to the wind.

Lay down your plow and scythe. Wear, instead, raven feathers.
Rest among the lilies, then take wing to the wind.

The Prophet slips off to the North Woods to measure life by leaves.
His ragged hands and autumn hymns must cling to the wind.


Ghazal each morning

I'm neither the chords of midnight, nor the symphonic swell each morning.
I'm the bright sound of smoke, twelve pyre tolls from the temple bell each morning.

You were born to rock in a cradle of rain, the thunder your lullaby.
I was birthed to pilgrim nocturnal storms, and waltz their wet smell each morning.

Listen. The rattle of stars will whisper deep through the echoed trees.
Be like As-Sameeí that you have secrets to tell each morning.

You have heard it said 'Be humble. Fall prostrate, your forehead tight to the ground'
But I say unto you: Rejoice in the Lord! Wake with a yell each morning.

The Prophet removes his shroud, and bends to kiss the quivering moon.
You will find his raptured body floating alone in the well each morning.

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