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  April 2014
volume 11 number 1
-table of contents-
 
  home   (archived)
 
  contributing poets
  Scott Alexander
  Shawn Aveningo
  Jonathan Beale
  Jack G. Bowman
  Betsy Burke
  Matt Burns
  Shibani Chattopadhyay
  Rachel Coventry
  Tyler Dupuis
  Allison Grayhurst
  John Grochalski
  Hedy Habra
  Samantha Henderson
  Augustus Invictus
  Natalie Itzhaki
  Scott Jacobson
  Alex Johnson
  Mikel K
  Craig Kurtz
  Phillip Larrea
  N.M. Leepsa
  Anthony Magistrale
  Brendan McCormack
  Christopher Mulrooney
  Philip ONeil
  Ebi Robert
  Walter Ruhlmann
  April Salzano
  Jake Sheff
  Rishan Singh
  Julia Stein
  Allen Taylor
  Paul Tristram
  Wanda Vanhoy Smith
  Claire Walker
  Viola Weinberg
  Claire Williams
 
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Shawn Aveningo
April 2014
   

 

bio


photo by mauricio alejandro ramos

    Shawn Aveningo is an internationally published, multi-award-winning poet who founded the Verse on the Vine™ poetry show. She has authored five poetry books and has performed in San Francisco, Seattle, Portland, Sausalito, Sacramento and St. Louis. Her work has been published in over 60 anthologies, literary journals and e-zines, including From the Four Chambered Heart: Tribute to Anais Nin, Tincture Journal, Pirene’s Fountain, Boston Poetry, Convergence, Poetry Now, Tule Review, and Haunted Waters Press Quarterly. Originally a Show-Me girl from Missouri, she’s a Summa Cum Laude graduate from University of Maryland and a very proud mother of three who has recently made Portland Oregon her home. And she absolutely loves shoes – especially red ones! (www.RedShoePoet.com)

   

 

Post Divorce Tarot Reading: A Courtship Trifecta

My heart spills over the challis rim.
Silence ushers in
the blue devil to build
his playground in my mind.

Guilty bishops beat at the back door.
Babies’ cries clatter in my ear, where
no one else can hear sounds of years
gone before me.

The queen whispers, instructs.
Focus. Just close your eyes and focus.
Seek the truth inside, Dear. Open.


Freedom. She sings a glorious tune,
echoing softly in each drop of drizzle,
rain from the raven’s sky, perfect
simpatico to the page’s dagger.

She feeds me olives, chocolate and brie.
But nothing quite rivals the sweet
taste of orange blossoms, her bosom.

The prince holds my hand, reassures me,
watches our first kiss, our first touch,
our first plunge into strange
yet familiar flesh.

I revel in new found delights,
enjoying both his primal strength
and her tender touch.

Watching. Longing to revisit the taste,
remnants of her steamy froth
lingering in his whiskers.

copyright 2014 Shawn Aveningo