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Phyllis Jean Green

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Books
· Carrboro Poetica

· Above and Below

· Spinning Straw: the Jeff Apple Story


Short Stories
· Scrawny Kid Clerked at Thrifty

· Euceless Laughs, Y O U Laugh {Capice?}

· This is Your Lucky Day by Euceless Liesalot

· Christmas Fax for da Broads in da Audience

· Flashing

· Owner Will Repair Kitchen Floor {flash humor}

· Courting Able


Articles
· Amnesty International Pressing for More Anti-Rape Legislation

· Bullying has no Place in a Democracy

· Calling Dr. Mengele, Calling Dr. Mengele

· Show and Tell by Karen Vanderlaan - Review

· Valley of the Shadow by Sybil Austin Skakle - Review

· Courage in Patience by Beth Fehlbaum -- a Review

· Heart Attack Symptoms Differ for Men and Women -- Read and Share!

· If you Have Been Kidnapped or Abducted --A Letter from Someone who Cares

· RICO for Kids - Help Missing Children, U.S.A.

· Reason to Celebrate! {re O N E's impact re suffering in Africa}


Poetry
· Listen to Your Muse, Then get up an' do Your Thing

· Poem an Inside Job

· Vicks, Flannel, and Great Expectations?

· Rumor January 19, two Thousand Thirteen

· Snow Night with Bird

· Gunned Down

· Shape Shifter

· Fought Tooth and Nail, I Know You {for Ellie}

· Night-Light

· We are Here to Tell You

         More poetry...
News
· Featured in Creative Thinkers International!

· Second Appearance in Leann Marshall's Sketch Notes

· New Appearance in The Yarn Spinner

· Bullying has no Place in a Democracy Featured at Creative Thinkers Intnl

· Poem to Appear in Sketchbook

· Poems to Appear in Sensations' 21st Century Issue

· In Richard Lee King's The Price of Freedom

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Books by Phyllis Jean Green
  The Watcher
by Phyllis Jean Green
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Phyllis Jean Green
•  Listen to Your Muse, Then get up an' do Your Thing
•  Poem an Inside Job
•  Vicks, Flannel, and Great Expectations?
•  Rumor January 19, two Thousand Thirteen
•  Snow Night with Bird
           >> View all 483


...many, many, versions later...
Critiques more than welcome!




An apparition rises a lump at a time, like dough
struggling to overcome the careless measurements
of a baker who has been guzzling beer intended
for beer bread.  Fudged on the yeast, or let it go bad. 

Rising, the apparition takes on the general shape
of a human.   Height --even stooped-- and the amount
of grizzle, say it is a man.  The coat that’s wearing
him looks like it was custom-made for a Wall Street
pirate, arms runner, or jetting tycoon, then run over
by an eighteen-wheeler during a rainstorm.
Things hang from it that are not made of cashmere.
Things hang from the hair that reaches halfway down
the back of the coat.  Grey as London fog.  Everything
in this alley is.  Sunlight can’t go through walls.

The man suddenly sinks to the pavement and
goes back to being a ghost.   Like he was never
here.  Never had a name or an address.  Never
had friends and a family and a job.  Been defaced,
then erased, The End.  And, the person watching
thinks, I am not him.  He is not me. 
And the apparition closes its eyes and thinks,
He thinks I am not him.  He thinks he is not me.
And the watcher moves on.

A woman sleeping against a door marked Do not Enter
is next.  She is bundled in so many clothes, it takes several
looks to see there’s a person inside.  Clothes are faded
and ragged, but clean.  How does she keep them that way?
flits through the watcher’s mind.  She is almost bald.
Did she have chemo, or it is malnutrition?  How can she sleep
twisted in a knot?  How does she walk in those shoes? 
Is someone looking for her?  Does someone haunt areas
like this and prod passersby to look at photographs
of a woman with an impish grin and sparkling dark eyes
and repeat, repeat, and repeat,  “Ever seen her?  You
sure?  Be older.  Probably lost weight.  Hair’re gray,
I expect.   Just got lost, y’know?  Happen to any--
. . .you’re not listening!  Somebody has to listen!!

The woman under Do not Enter is almost too bundled
up to see, but it looks like she blinked.  Why bother
to look? the watcher thinks.  These people are nothing
to me.  

And the woman thinks,  I am you.  I am you.

You are ME.

 

 

                      (c) Phyllis Jean Green
                             January, 2012

                        

 

 

                            

 

                           


Angels That Care


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Reviewed by Regis Auffray
This is deeply compelling and thought-inciting, Pea. Your verses almost "demand" that the reader pay attention. Thank you. Love and best wishes to you,

Regis
Reviewed by Muhammad Al Mahdi
Yeah, that's it. Last line and working towards it is very strong. Fine intro. The observation, of course, is of extraordinary importance. The form does justice to the subject and shows its full dimension. A great achievement here is the fact that the woman is not a spectre or a cliche, but very real, life-like and fully present in the poem.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Love how you pull us in and make us SEE ... fantastic, (((Pea)))! Love this (and you).

(((HUGS))), Karla.
Reviewed by Diana Wiles
Compelling, beautifully written and very emotive reading...a subject that affects us increasingly here in the UK ..so many now homeless and cold right now with plummeting temperatures within that 'grey London fog'...
The phrase 'there but for the grace of god...' takes on new meaning...

This Really hits the mark for me...

Best wishes, Diana...
Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen
Exquisite, Pea!! Very unsettling during and after reading, with your watchers eyes, and your word choices, strung like a tarnished neclace, made dreary details shine through with a powerful punch, I could see it in my mind's eye. I am you, you are me.. Love this!

Erin
Reviewed by Vivian Dawson
Right "through" the looking glass on this
one *Phyllis* handing out a mirror for Us!!!

Lady Vivian
Reviewed by Jon Willey
Pea, this is reality too often in today's environment of personal tragedies and a population numbed, overwhelmed with growing uncertainty and despair -- learned men and woman have become statistics and lost their identity -- hope is the fading light growing more faint by the moment -- intense look at life in America today -- I bid you joy and peace my dear friend -- Jon Michael
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
poignant writing--right to the core-i love this kind of writing--it gets to ones soul!
Reviewed by Carole Mathys
Outstanding piece Pea on an ongoing sad fate of the homeless. Brilliant write! Carole~
Reviewed by Mr. Ed
And the woman thinks, I am you. I am you.
You are ME.

How so sadly true, especially these horrendous days. Like Patrick, I often spend time in depressed areas chasing after starving, left behind dogs, and I now sadly see more and more humans and canines in desperate need of some help.
Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
Don't know where to start. Remarkable piece. I've spent a lot of time near skid row and you've covered much more ground than that. I've been lumped. Patrick
Reviewed by Kenny Baez
Good spectral poem here,Phyllis! Like Poe's William Wilson face-to-face with his doppelganger and namesake. The ectoplasmic rise of the doughy apparition very convincing, like my dream of a few nights ago - a rubbery hand pulled me out of the door - gotta be something spooky! Bill Murray should look into it .... the ghostly Den of otherworldly poets.

Reviewed by jude forese
powerfully fused with concept, imagery and ideological social perspective ... a good read, Phyllis ...
Reviewed by D. Vegas
Sad but true, the homeless are everywhere...don't hear
the politicians with a plan to eleviate the problem.
Phyllis, powerful stuff.

Always,
Deborah
Reviewed by Debby & Gordon Rosenberg
The first part gave me fhashes of that "Beatlejuice" movie, but the later paragraphs tugged deeply into this heart.
Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger
Startled to peering in at the reality of street survival.
Marvelous work ~ Phyllis ~ Lady Mary Ann
Reviewed by Christine Tsen
A fabulously interesting juxtaposition ~
of how the watcher is doing the invading as she is watching them, and yet she distances herself from their existence, probably because it is what she sees as an unpleasant existence... However, the woman under the sign does her own invasion of the watcher's space by connecting with her and underscoring their sameness. xx
Reviewed by Marcia Duning (Reader)
Depressing but very true. Guess where this will go.
Reviewed by Lonnie Hicks
Wow Phyllis, you skillfully used misdirection to coax the reader to engaging, and once engaged you made this powerful statement not only in regards the poor or the homeless. You made us understand a much larger lesson, there but for luck go I.
And still more: At base this is a lesson in true religion and the matriculations of the golden rule. That is a lot to pack into a single piece.
great.
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