Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry book reviews to feed poets' and poetry lovers' souls.


All Poems

Talk to Me – A Poem by Heather Pease

Talk to Me
by Heather Pease

I hunger for talent dissimilar,
a worthy exchange,
a coupling of minds.
I want colloquy.

Talk to me, make me guffaw, be irresponsible
becoming drunk on words
undressing my mind
with infinite conversation
of things that matter
… or don’t.

I desire to genuinely hear you
… for you to easily listen to me
Possess tangible interest in what I spout
crave me +++++++++++ for my mind.

Sit beside me, let’s
hold hands
turn off the world around us
and yarn words
into a blanket
we call our favorite.


About the Poet:   Heather Pease is a Poet focusing on work centering on feminism, sexuality, identity, culture, mental health, politics and domestic violence. She writes from her own experiences, aiming to give voice to vulnerability, making people think about subjects often stigmatized through society. She writes to empower others whose voices remain unheard. She lives in Orange County, CA with her husband, and two daughters and is currently working on her first book of poems.

Instagram – @ohpoetic1

Facebook – @HeatherPeasePoetry

Poetry Website

Zenith – A Poem by Clayre Benzadón

by Clayre Benzadón

Above, the world
bursts eminence.

Mauve and mildew
residue lid lilacs,

corollas run off
on a split doze.

Under the spherical
point, vernal tides

bloom forth
seasonal resilience,

equinox and prime
seedtime, more growth.

Silence hints,
then fully coves

spring, singing
without me,

a single hymn ripped
out of the clouds.



About the Poet: Clayre Benzadón is currently a second-year MFA student at the University of Miami and Broadsided Press’s Instagram editor. 

She has been published by The Acentos Review, HerStory, Rat’s Ass Review, and other literary magazines / journals. Additionally she has had the opportunity of attending The Miami’s Writer’s Institute and The Ashbery Home School, a week-long poetry writing workshop/conference in Miami.

Twitter: @ClayreBenz
Instagram: clayrebenz

Niagara – A Poem by Laura Rutland

by Laura Rutland

The river flows peacefully in places.
I’ve seen the pictures.
Green banks,
trees overhanging
the clear, smooth flow of water.

But the photo I took
was a swirling mass
just above the Falls.
My camera captured
The water spun against itself,
violently resisting
the thrust forward
it was bound to endure.

There is no resisting
the Falls.
The water can twirl itself
into madness.
It will still drop,
into a crisis
of foam and spray and roaring,
to flow downstream again—
the same river
in a different direction.


About the Poet: Laura Rutland, a transplant from North Georgia to Northwestern Pennsylvania, teaches English at Gannon University in Erie. Her poems have been published in Autumn Sky Daily and in two anthologies: Dwelling in Possibility, edited by Berwyn Moore, and Picture This Anthology, edited by Marisa Moks-Unger.

How Long O Lord – A Poem by Dana Hughes

How Long O Lord
by Dana Hughes

Because they were DOCTORS she said,
I believed they would help me, believed
in their knowledge, in their experience,
their Hippocratic oath, our common humanity,
for God’s sake.

They saw me arrive full and leave empty
again and again through years of trying
to bring just one child into the world
and they shook their heads and shrugged,

something about how these things happen,
it’s normal, nature’s way of taking care
of what isn’t meant to be, but after number
nine fell out in the fifth month, it seems they
might have seen

a pattern; done an exam before the end began
instead of after. If my color matched theirs,
they might have said CERCLAGE instead of SORRY
but we weren’t

and they didn’t, and my hands that ache to hold
the one thing in all the world that I would give
my life for are clenched rather than clasped
in prayer as I beg the Lord to forgive whatever it
was I did

to make those babies slip from my womb’s grasp.
I think of Sara, Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth,
and wonder how many lives they lost, expelled
in a field or by a stream, not because they were barren,
but ignored.

*”Cerclage”, also known as a cervical stitch, is a treatment for cervical incompetence or insufficiency, when the cervix starts to shorten and open too early during a pregnancy causing either a late miscarriage or preterm birth.


About the Poet: Dana Hughes is a wife to one man, mother to three grown and perfect children, a minister, knitter, quilter, potter, and gardner, and who takes delight in arranging and rearranging words like a quilt being pieced of bits of this and that until the pattern appears.

The Quiet One – A Poem by Lylanne Musselman

The Quiet One
by Lylanne Musselman

Shy like me, there was
something in the way
you moved, George,
as you stood dead center
between Paul and John
all those years ago.

I went “woo” over your
brown eyes and got my
mind set on you, while
others were going crazy about
Paul or John, even Ringo.

All things must pass:
I’m not young anymore,
and you’ve gone on
to meet my sweet Lord.
If I’d faithfully kept up lessons,
I would play My Guitar Gently Weeps.


About the Poet:  Lylanne Musselman is an award-winning poet, playwright, and artist, living in Indiana. Her work has appeared in Pank, Flying Island, The Tipton Poetry Journal, The New Verse News, Rose Quartz Magazine, and The Ekphrastic Review, among others, and many anthologies. Musselman is the author of five chapbooks, including the recent Red Mare 16 (Red Mare Press, 2018), a co-author of the volume of poetry, Company of Women New and Selected Poems, (Chatter House Press, 2013) and author of the new full-length poetry collection, It’s Not Love, Unfortunately (Chatter House Press, 2018).


instagram: lylanne1

twitter: @LylanneM

Website is:

Because They Say – A Poem by deb y felio

Because They Say
by deb y felio

The hassle of breakfast
get dressed hurry up
gobble it down
don’t spill your cup

dishes left on the table
tumbled and turned
forgotten bread in the toaster
now twice burned

I don’t understand
how they could say what they say
that a meal like this
is the most important of the day.



About the Poet: deb y felio writes from the mountains and woods in Boulder Colorado.She worked for thirty years providing educational and mental heath services and advocacy to the under-served. She is an active member of Denver Lighthouse for Writers and The Boulder Writers communities. Her work is published online at Proleteria, Antinarrative, Writing In a Woman’s Voice, Tuck magazine, The Poet by Day, Right Hand Pointing, and With Painted Words. In print anthologies Hay(na)ku 15 ( Eileen Tabios, editor) and in Minnie’s Diary, A Southern Literary Review and Gabriel’s Horn Anthology,Surprised by Joy May 2019.

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