By Stephen Kingsnorth The Clock A classical pastiche: corner cherubs, putti poorly cast which now corrode, Tempus Fugit plate, commanding serif comment overall, arranged on brittle face, metallic square, crude cut. Encased in wood pretending plastic, even hardboard, glue, mis-stained, this poor-imagined age and quality are what money buys for the undiscerning, those who own … Continue reading The Clock and Other Poems
A Delicate Balance and 11 P.M. Saturday
By Ian Copestick A Delicate Balance I was just looking through my note book. In the last 4 months, since everything in my life went horribly wrong. Since my beloved woman of 18 years, and then my father died, I've had 10 new poems published. Before I used to get that many published in 1 … Continue reading A Delicate Balance and 11 P.M. Saturday
What Have I Become?
By Soham Bhattacharya It's hard to define what's left inside. The tears shed off the skin, my sorrows won't lean. I've missed myself for the very first time. I killed a soulless man last night. Don't overwhelm me, I can't even speak. What have I become? It's not more than a brick. My eyes don't … Continue reading What Have I Become?
Life’s Colors
By Mike Turner We run through the colors of our lives The yellows of bright possibilities Lives begun, opportunities offered The greens of early success Chances taken, hopes promised The reds of passions stoked Loves encountered, yearnings ignited The blues of loss Dreams unfulfilled, accomplishments unrewarding Oranges and purples and scarlets and indigo Once viewed … Continue reading Life’s Colors
Motion Picture
By Anthony Ward We watch movies for magic to escape reality, Turning in on ourselves instead of looking out to the earth Where miracles are happening all around, In a world of wonder, Illuminated by a single golden glare Amidst billions of stars borne of millions of galaxies In an infinite space of swathing darkness. … Continue reading Motion Picture
Strings of Guitars
By Ayoade Olamide Strings of guitars steal tunes from the palms of our local flutes, tainting our fabrics with imported vernacular; woven with the thread of disdain. sound waves have taken to their land – heritage crafted with our fathers’ hand in the tender soil of our dignity. we now shudder in our hut of … Continue reading Strings of Guitars
Witchy Halloween and Other Poems
By Michael Lee Johnson Witchy Halloween Inside this late October 31st night, this poem turns into a pumpkin. Animation, something has gone devilishly wrong with my imagery. I take the lid off the pumpkin’s head light the pink candles inside. Demons, cry, crawl, split, fly outsides — escape, through the pumpkin’s eyes. I’m mixed in … Continue reading Witchy Halloween and Other Poems
Bell Tower and Other Poems
By Glory Cumbow Bell Tower The church bells trick me every time their warm toll reverberates in my tummy, echoing an inviting sense of safety. Foolishly, I allow a small blossom of hope. I follow the ringing hymns into the sanctuary. Oh, the irony of that word. I crave the breaking of bread at the … Continue reading Bell Tower and Other Poems
As the Sunset Shifts from a Cool White to Umber Orange, Birds are Dying
By Keith Hoerner No wind flows Through wingspan No lift Force No air- Foil Aves find Themselves As thrown Stones Beaks raking Earth like plows To sow dying swan Songs *Golden Seeds* *Feathered Prayers* *Sacred Supplication* To germinate and Grow And even perhaps— Soar again Keith Hoerner lives, teaches, and pushes words around in Southern … Continue reading As the Sunset Shifts from a Cool White to Umber Orange, Birds are Dying
My Garden
By P. Oscar Cubillos I have orange, pink, and red roses many colors and shapes of tulips gladiolus, nasturtium and peonies; blue irises, lilacs and crepe myrtles. I like the soft smell of the roses, tomatoes’ smell is very different but still pleasant; tarragon, basil and mint; thyme, oregano and chive remind me of a … Continue reading My Garden
