Mary-Lane Kamberg is a professional writer, with seven published books and hundreds of articles. She has won numerous awards for her poetry from the Ozark Creative Writers, Missouri
Writers Guild, Oklahoma Writers' Federation Inc., Missouri State Association of the National League of American Pen Women, Kansas City-Westport branch of the National League of American Pen Women, Nob Hill-San Francisco branch of the National League of American Pen
Women, Missouri State Poetry Society, Springfield Writers' Guild, and Potpourri Magazine's Council on National Literature.
Kamberg's poetry
has appeared in several anthologies including: Times of Sorrow Times of Grace
(Backwaters Press, 2006), Water and Rock (Mid-America Press, 2005), Sacred
Feathers (Adams Media, 2003), Beginning from the Middle
(Whispering Prairie Press), Handprint in the Woods (Whispering Prairie Press) and
The Season of Light (Whispering Prairie Press).
Her poetry has also appeared in:
Byline, Cicada, Coal
City Review, Kansas City Star, Kansas
City Voices, Mediphors, Mid-America Poetry Review, Mythic Circle, Poems
That Thump in the Dark, Potpourri, Prism Quarterly, Rant, SlugFest, Sunflower
Petals, Thirteen Poetry Magazine,
Writer's
Journal.
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Time
races out the door
in new school shoes
takes stairs two at a time
skips down dusty roads
spends summers in sandals
changes into work boots with steel toes
sloshes in wet galoshes
slogs through bogs
steps out in spit-shined wingtips
dances in black patent leather
ambulates
perambulates
shuffles in worn-out slippers
remembers a long ago place
where no one needed shoes
Originally published in
The Mid-America Poetry Review
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Just Words
National Archives
in the beginning was the word
a sound not heard
but carved in stone
Sumerian clay
and Chinese wood
word etched on glass
quilled and scrolled
and sealed
law above king
pen above sword
word penciled on foolscap
inked on parchment
in the course of human events
word typed
and pressed
electrified
past is prologue
the written word endures
Originally published in
Potpourri
All poetry on this page
Copyright © by Mary Lane Kamberg, 2006
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Because You Asked
What My Mother
Is Like
Long after the hawk
has ripped flesh
and dive-bombers
have returned to treetops
and telephone wires,
the nestling’s mother
still circles
shrieks
pecks at the predator’s tail
Originally published in Water and Rock
--an anthology from The Mid-America Press
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What Would Jesus Drive?
SUV? Electric car?
What would Jesus drive
if He’d ride instead of walking
and today he were alive?
Would He choose a Mazda, Honda,
Kia, Chevrolet or Ford?
Or would Porsche or Mercedes
be more fitting for the Lord?
Would He like to drive a limo
or a Cadillac that hums
or “make an entrance” driving
six white horses when he comes?
He could drive a donkey cart, of course –
though those are known to jostle –
or a school bus painted with peace signs
with room for each apostle.
Would He prefer a pick-up
or a surrey or sedan?
An ambulance? A Popemobile?
A brown delivery van?
Perhaps a postal service truck
carrying the mail –
Wait!
Jesus was a carpenter.
He would drive
a nail. |
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