By Bruce Hodder There is confetti in your black hair, Allen Ginsberg. The sky is a dharmakaya blue. A young Jonas Mekas is filming you as you play your tiny Asian finger cymbals. Young people take each other’s hands and dance, eyes watching, fifty-one years later, on devices that haven’t been invented yet.
The Untranslatable: Hiraeth
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable 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 fading dye of photographs hung on living room walls Holding idealized pasts of what was When everything was not a worry … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Hiraeth
AURORA
By Pat Ashinze You are a garden of ambrosial colours and psychedelic patterns. Let no one make your soul feel primitive and lightless. You are a name that gives the night her light. You have the blood of nature in your arteries. You are too deeply rooted to wilt from drought. Like a butterfly … Continue reading AURORA
Poems by Pat Ashinze
WAR let us draw light and curse the night and her evils. let us drink wine and make our women burn in love. let us taste death and resurrect to see the glossy sun. ... RIGOR APPETIT( Haiku) life is a banquet hosted by God. death: the irresistibly majestic dessert. all shall eat; all … Continue reading Poems by Pat Ashinze
The Untranslatable: Hyggelig
By Thomas Page The Untranslatable 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. Toasts made in candlelit rooms, Surrounding by autumn’s bounty saved for winter, Accompanied by drinks of all sorts that mean … Continue reading The Untranslatable: Hyggelig
DRIFT
By Pat Ashinze nothing makes a man look stupid like wanton misery and consistent failure. And love. i tell you, dear reader - not because i have drunk sour wines; not because i have seen the sky bleed; not because my memories have grown grey beards and have become arthritic; i tell you this to … Continue reading DRIFT
IN DARK PLACES
By John Grey The wick is as reluctant to light as the wax is to burn. Darkness is such a natural state it seems, even simple physics is reluctant to upset its status quo. You fiddle with the match. I'm wondering should I try to help, with gentle-fingers, aid you in the striking. But what … Continue reading IN DARK PLACES
FIFTEEN YEARS SERVICE AWARD
By John Grey Ah yes, vast symbol after fifteen years, success measured in the weight of two bricks, enough largesse to stop a ream of paper from blowing away. With this forever in my sights, I will always remember the incomprehensible, a thank you as useless as a bald man's comb. In other words, … Continue reading FIFTEEN YEARS SERVICE AWARD
“The Faces of the Seasons”
By Thomas Page If I were to spin a season from silk, Making human’d face out of spitting Image, who would we behold right there? Spring would probably be a young woman With flowers and orchids blooming from her Hair. She, like the softly-born breeze, would float ‘bove The groves and glens hued with forest … Continue reading “The Faces of the Seasons”
THE WOLVES OUTSIDE
By John Grey My dogs get antsy when the wolves howl. That wild beast is broadcasting something no doubt but, when they try to reply, it comes out as just pathetic howls or timid barking. They're not hungry like a desperate creature in desolate woods, mid- January. And nor as randy and lascivious in the … Continue reading THE WOLVES OUTSIDE
