A Lone Road on the Island of Moloka’i by Maggs Vibo
Our plane putters over patchwork pillows of rusty clay Celebrating the day's first rays at a coffee plantation Top down, and around the bend the breeze kicks dust into our locks We visit spaces of ancient mysteries and forgotten history Not far from a phallic rock and a peninsula of exiled patients Where jagged cliffs leap to kiss the sea Towards desolate paths that stretch and smile at roosters crowing as if echoing the road sign: Aloha Slow Down This is Moloka'i Untitled from Jacqueline Dempsey Cohen Here the earth glows, breathes from its molten core laying bare its soil reborn with radiant heat This iron-rich clay beckons hands to touch and feet to scuff staining fingers, soothing toes caressing knots of need. Untouchable limbs frame the path relentlessly muted urging travelers ever onward to mountains birthing fire. @boscoedempsey A JOURNEY by Petar Penda He took a fiery road towards distant hills, with wild shrubs on its sides not to let him turn off the path. This solitary journey led to his self-knowledge of the lack of something central which permeated. Copper Dust Road by Robin McNamara I’m on a dust road unburdened by winds / unshackled by conformity. Humbolt of a cloud; wispy in the sky where the land lies with dust and rust and rock and ruin. I saw a desert man he was wearing wisdom of an Indian spirit / I crave the aqua of his knowledge. My face copper-rust from the swirling dust of the road to nowhere / rattlesnakes and coyotes on each side watching / waiting patiently for hope to die. ABOUT TO ACHIEVE by Spriha Kant Crossed many long tortuous paths beaded with many thorns showering under the sun’s anger Every time, found me a bird flying to touch the horizon. Now Cooler sun Roaming clouds Swaying thickets on both sides of the path as if about to welcome me to my destination by showering me in water from the skies. (c) Spriha Kant The Red Road by Elizabeth Cusack Why is this road so red And what makes it real? Why is perception a tunnel? Who decided our destination And what do they know? What is a bramble And why is it dark? Why are hedges bare And why do thorns stick up in air? Why do rabbits fall into lairs? Everyone knows these skies will part And our lives will not end here. Beguiled by Lesley Curwen Rust bloodroad flares to brightest crux its russet track armed by hedges' dark overed by long mynd and sailing cloud the eye swept back and back to fiery light its centred throb, perplexing Delphic shape. Witch trio aflame, altar to neon gods or haloed mothers keening at a grave? She is on fire by Constance Bacchus not going anywhere she is rambling on to the lake she stops off at one of two gas stations won’t eat anything but licorice candy extreme pop she spins out of control across so many hills the vultures at the top pay attention she has passed the other one watches the fire blend in arrives at the launch hardens her heart in the water you could say it fossilized you can say you miss it you can say anything you want it is cold doesn’t care breaks apart amongst milfoil Inspired by Leonard Cohen lyric visual piece from Maggs Vibo Congrats! To Fevers of the Mind contributor Maggs Vibo A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Margaret Viboolsittiseri aka Maggs Vibo Visual Poetry by Maggs Vibo: Drinking the Ash Pt 1 & 2 Poem from Constance Bacchus : Memories from a party last 4th of July Poetry based on photography Challenge from Ankh Spice pt. 1 Poetry based on Photography challenge from Ankh Spice pt. 3 2 poems by Spriha Kant from Hard Rain Poetry Forever Dylan Anthology A Sylvia Plath inspired poetry showcase by Robin McNamara A Poetry Showcase from Robin McNamara August 2022 Poetry Showcase from Elizabeth Cusack Poetry by Petar Penda : Tiresias
Fevers of the Mind 
“This solitary journey led to
his self-knowledge of
the lack of something central
which permeated.
Bravo!
Love this
LikeLike