The VGP Literate No. 16

Million Millennial March

They will flood
the streets
like a tsunami
of determination
and they will confront
the powers that bee-sting
the masses
and they will raise
their hands
and swat the buzz
right out of the
fly on the wall
Big Brother
watching us all
and monitoring
our every
left wing movement
and then this
wet behind the ear
generation will
gather no moss
when they abstain
from throwing the
first stone
as they remember
the power flowers
of the sixties
that baby boomed
and then went bust
on the side of the road
paved with the 70s’
“have a nice day”

Ivan Jenson, a celebrated Pop artist of New York City, moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan where he experienced success as a published poet and novelist. Ivan has over 600 poems published internationally, online and in print, as well as a book of poems and four novels. Ivan Jenson’s new novel Gypsies of New Rochelle, a comic family saga circa 1980, has been published as a paperback and eBook by Michelkin Publishing. 

The VGP Literate No. 7


greed is a mobile brain parasite
bigger than any worm or tumor, but

the chapbook factor, magazines—
medicine, or futility in paper flesh,

the radiant physics not fully x-rayed,
expressionless, we tie shoes, and die

David Scott Pointer is a friendly neighborhood political poet. He has been publishing around the horn for 21 years.

The VGP Literate No. 4

Prayer to La Madre Tierra
(Spanish & English)

…Madre de gracia
Madre de misericordia
en la vida
y en la muerte
amparanos gran señora…

Protect us, dear Mother,
protect us from our own fears!

How could we have manifested
these needless tears
throughout generations,

Yet we’ve not reached past
our ignorance,
vast confusion.

We are in constant fear
of your wrath…
that you,
Grandious Earth
will swallow us alive!

We’re brain-washed
assuming we’ve damaged you

When to you,
the cuts and bruises
are mere pimples.

We humans are mere
traveling around
your magnificent,
bodacious body!

Dear Mother…
your core is unreachable,

Your skin is rich and fertile
in tan and red tones.

Your hair grows
and grows…
freshly lush,
green and sweet…

I love to taste your hair,
its nutrients I enjoy!

Your blood
ebbs… it flows
through the elements:


! Te adoro
Oh, Madre Tierra!

Tercer planeta
en el Milky Way.

Silky it looks
in the Universe;

sweet it must taste
to demi gods.

You wear
slight cleavage,
voluptuous curves
in your deep valleys
and high mountain ranges.

Whether you ever
feel ill
or really great

your body quivers,
it quakes!

How could we, so microbial
for so long
still assume that
we hurt you?

You can shake us off
like chain-linked ants.
We could cease to exist
and you
not only can,
not only will…

You just have
and will Be!

I write this to you
Mother, dear
because I know

that no chemicals,
no plastics,
no electronics
could ever harm you.

You gave mankind
the materials,
the minerals

to use…
experiment with.

To us in 500 years,
to you in a few days,
everything we manufacture
will return to what it was.

The Hopi know
what you’re all about.
So they just don’t worry.

Can the rest of us
do the same?

You sneezed…
scratched an itch

and it flooded houses,
swiped out
entire cities.

You say… ‘oops!’
God gives us strength.

And still, we do
and worship you

… Por la señal
de la Santa Cruz
de nuestros enemigos
libranos señor nuestro…

Free us
from assuming
so much
about this Earth
we live in.

When we follow
your path

we know what we’re capable of
and can just be.


Chevalterre Nabil, the poetic half of KLRabstracts, was born in El Paso, TX and is a U. S. Navy Veteran.