By Thomas Page I’ve never read any of my poems in public. Not because I have some apprehension about sharing them in a room mixed of strangers and friends But just that I prefer people to read them themselves. I tend to write “closet poems” like many of the plays of the Roman language, … Continue reading “Recitation”
Three More Poems by Leah Mueller
"Solstice Koan" Why not trust the return of the light in the midst of a cold winter rainstorm? The shortest day becomes the longest, becomes the shortest again. The cold sun crouches on the moon’s furthest axis, awaiting the signal to warmth. "The Mold of Us" No longer a surprise, this unveiling. The … Continue reading Three More Poems by Leah Mueller
“Time Passes”
By Ian Copestick Next week, my niece, is 17 years old and starts having Driving lessons. She's already Got a car. It blows my mind. It seems like only a couple of Weeks ago that I was holding Her tiny hand as she started Taking her faltering, first steps As she learnt to walk … Continue reading “Time Passes”
The Untranslatable: Madrugada
By Thomas Page This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. The highway holds an eerie quality When the horns belonging to steel horses Evaporate with the stalled tires in garages far away. The moon, … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Madrugada
Alphabets: Beta
By Thomas Page I’d like to think that what I am seeing is real And not an illusion Or worst yet An allusion To something beyond my grey-matter’s comprehension. Whenever something that shouldn’t should We like to blame rabbits pulled from hats Instead of the eye watching the moving hands. Whenever the claw in that … Continue reading Alphabets: Beta
“Nanna’s Sunday Lunch”
By Karen Trappett Every Sunday of my youth was spent in Nanna’s old Queenslander at Sandgate for the ubiquitous Sunday lunch. I didn’t even know there was a beach near her house until much later, which was a shame, I could have used the escape; but as a single digit kid, I had no … Continue reading “Nanna’s Sunday Lunch”
“The Pass”
By Karen Trappett Byron kept his kitchen fastidiously clean; his pride and joy, and his livelihood. The stainless-steel countertops gleamed from constant rubbing and buffering between sittings and the copper-bottomed pots shimmered under the bright halogen downlights - placed with regimented precision above the work surface. Taking off his chef’s hat and placing it … Continue reading “The Pass”
By Amani Utembu I didn't believe in legends. Never thought I'd ever believe in any of the old stories either until a couple of days ago after we moved. There's this park, some three or four kilometers away from home that me and my friends go to hang out on weekends, or just go to … Continue reading
Poems by Guy Farmer
Contrived Existence Systematic destruction Of self-worth replaced With rigid decrees for How to live life, Zealously, nervously Monitored, lest there be Any defections, the Preservation of the sham The only goal, an insecure Stack of lies desperately Trying to justify its Contrived existence. ----- His Stories Sitting in his room, Telling himself His stories, Over … Continue reading Poems by Guy Farmer
The Untranslatable: Psithurism
This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem. By Thomas Page A smooth zephyr carries the fallen leaves of trees Across the dried concrete littered with autumn Painted shades of orange and yellow On a … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Psithurism
Academy of the Heart And Mind 