I turn on the television to keep the younger dog company.
Ernest Cossart’s Irish brogue gently chastises,
“Ah, there’s a real piece of idiocy—woman’s instinct—
every slab-sided female in the world is a crystal gazer—
she’s magic. She can fore-tell the future—like a politician.”
Flustered, I grab my water bottle, recheck the emergency number.
As I wheel around before closing the door,
I see Ginger Rogers, black and white in soft focus.
She spins around at her door, facing me
and an off-camera Cossart.
All the way down the hall her plucky voice follows me,
“And don’t you worry about me pop, cause I can take care
of myself alright! Goodbye pop!”
Jennifer Bradpiece was born and raised in the multifaceted muse, Los Angeles, where she still resides. She tries to remain active in the Los Angeles writing and art scene. Jennifer has interned at Beyond Baroque and often collaborates with multi-media artists on projects. Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and published in various anthologies, journals, and online zines, including Redactions, The Common Ground Review, and The Bacopa Literary Review . She has poetry forthcoming in Breath & Shadows among others. Jennifer’s manuscript, Lullabies for End Times will be available in early 2020 by Moon Tide Press.
Guna Moran is an assamese poet and critic.His poems are being published in various international magazines,journals and anthologies.Apart from this,his poems have already been translated into more than twenty foreign languages.
David Flynn was born in the textile mill company town of Bemis, TN. His jobs have included newspaper reporter, magazine editor and university teacher. He has five degrees and is both a Fulbright Senior Scholar and a Fulbright Senior Specialist with a recent grant in Indonesia. His literary publications total more than two hundred. He lives in Nashville, TN, where he is director of the Musicians Reunion, an annual blues music festival now in its 37th year. He currently teaches at Tennessee State University.
Joanne has been writing for 50 years. She is a published poet and photographer. Her works have appeared in numerous in print and online
publications such as The Parnassus Literary Journal, Westward Quarterly, The San Diego Arts and Poets Magazine, Nomads Choir, SP Quill, just to name a few. She was awarded a round-trip ticket to Hong
Kong in 2007 by Cathay Pacific Airways for her winning entry in their poetry contest. Joanne is the founder and editor of Stanzaic Stylings Literary Ezine. Joanne enjoys reading, writing, collecting old poetry books, live music concerts, roaming art galleries and museums, leisurely lunches with
friends in diners, getting out in nature with her camera and making toys for and playing with her feathered companion, Sammers
You can learn all there is to know about her by visiting her website/blog
Patricia Walsh was born and raised in the parish of Mourneabbey, Co Cork, Ireland. To date, she has published one novel, titled The Quest for Lost Eire, in 2014, and has published one collection of poetry, titled Continuity Errors, with Lapwing Publications in 2010. She has since been published in a variety of print and online journals. These include: The Lake; Seventh Quarry Press; Marble Journal; New Binary Press; Stanzas; Crossways; Ygdrasil; Seventh Quarry; The Fractured Nuance; Revival Magazine; Ink Sweat and Tears; Drunk Monkeys; Hesterglock Press; Linnet’s Wing, Narrator International, The Galway Review; Poethead and The Evening Echo.
Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada, Vietnam era. Today he is a poet in the greater Chicagoland area, IL. He has 244 YouTube poetry videos. Michael Lee Johnson is an internationally published poet 43 countries, several published poetry books, nominated for 3 Pushcart Prize awards and 5 Best of the Net nominations. He is editor-in-chief of 3 poetry anthologies, all available on Amazon, and has several poetry books and chapbooks. He has over 536 published poems. Michael is the administrator of 6 Facebook Poetry groups. Member Illinois State Poetry Society: http://www.illinoispoets.org/.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” “Memory Outside The Head” and “Guest Of Myself” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.
Eliza Segiet is Jagiellonian University graduate with a Master’s Degree in Philosophy. She completed postgraduate studies in Cultural Knowledge, Philosophy, Penal Fiscal and Economic Law, and Creative Writing at Jagiellonian University, as well as Film and Television Production in Łódź. She has published three poetry collections and two monodramas.
Death is always a heartbeat away, life is an echo,
snuffed out all too soon.
The grass sings a serenade, soothing natures fleeting
breath.
While an ancient lullaby reaches its crescendo, she
dances upon this midnight dream cadence.
Peering through tear stained windows, outside where
innuendos swirl in vacant breeze.
We were here, do you remember?
Yes, it was we, when we were one and not two,
cascading and thus sealed over, simplified by
the finality, reaching its terminus point.
Life plays the sad song so out of tune, death stares
us down like a red-tailed hawk in the midday heat.
Wayne Russell is or has been many things in his 49 years on this planet, he has been a creative writer, world traveler, graphic designer, former soldier, and former sailor. Wayne has been widely published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines. From 2016-17 he also founded and edited Degenerate Literature. In late 2018, the kind editors at Ariel Chart nominated Wayne for his first Pushcart Prize for the poem Stranger in a Strange Town. “Where Angels Fear” was his debut e-book, but due to unforeseen circumstances, it was pulled from the publishers’ list of titles recently. .
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, PPP Ezine, In Between Hangovers, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.
Once an admirable work of financial art, prudence, and discipline
shining in splendid glory
an example to emulate
carefully crafted and created with intention to care for others.
Now a burned-out shell of its former self
an unrecognizable wasteland
littered with broken promises
sucking the life out of the remnants of prior greatness.
Starving children dig through the ruins
searching for any scraps or crumbs
of the future once promised them.
While the One who-should-have-gone-first
feasts upon the riches of others
tossing aside the bones
to be scattered
among the chaos.
Noelle Kukenas began writing around the age of nine and continues to this day. She enjoyed working in several career fields, many which allowed her to contribute as a technical writer in some capacity. Her published works include a short story in Scraps To Scribes and poetry in Sisterhood 4: We Are Women. Recently retired from the nonprofit sector, Noelle enjoys spending her free time traveling with her husband, creating havoc with her grandchildren, and enjoying the California sunshine!
Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll. His debut poetry collection “Playing PoohsticksOnHa’Penny Bridge” was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Lewis Milne, Orson Carroll, Blinded Architect, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
Shola Balogun, poet,playwright and filmmaker has been featured as a guest writer and contributor,especially in the areas of poetry, post colonial studies and dramatic criticism to various magazines,anthologies and journals. He studied Theatre Arts at the University of Ibadan. Balogun lives in Lagos,Nigeria.
Thomas M. McDade is a 73 year-old resident of Fredericksburg, VA. He is a graduate of Fairfield University, Fairfield, CT. McDade is twice a U.S. Navy Veteran.
Buoyant hustle emerging from smokey fields, It is his voice that sings me to peace. Capacious affection breathing down my neck Like sun rays warming my skin. I have been the metaphor of destruction And he, the metaphor of revival. Feral detest bubbling within the cauldron of my chest But overridden by his sweet summer scent. Someone loved me once; He loved me enough to make me love myself.
David Estringel is an avid reader, poet, and writer of fiction, creative non-fiction, & essays. His work has been accepted and/or published by Specter Magazine, Literary Juice, Foliate Oak Magazine,Terror House Magazine, Expat Press, 50 Haikus, littledeathlit, Down in the Dirt Magazine, Route 7 Review, Setu Bilingual Journal, Paper Trains Literary Journal, The Elixir Magazine, Soft Cartel,Harbinger Asylum, Briars Lit, Open Arts Forum, Cajun Mutt Press, Former People Journal, The Ugly Writers, Writ in Dust, Cephalopress, Twist in Time, Merak Magazine, Salt Water Soul, Cherry House Press, Subterranean Blue Poetry, Printed Words, Sunflower Sutras, Tulip Tree Publishing, Salt, PPP Ezine, Digging through the Fat, Haiku Journal, and The Good Men Project. He is currently a Contributing Editor (fiction) at Red Fez, Lead Editor/columnist at The Good Men Project, and an editor/writer at The Elixir Magazine. David can be found on Twitter (@The_Booky_Man) and his website at http://davidaestringel.com.
Mark Kodama is a trial attorney and former newspaper reporter who lives in Washington, D.C. His short stories and poems have been published in anthologies, newspapers, journals, magazines and on-line blogs.
Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet, and photographer. He’s member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, Friends of The Blake Society, and others. Director of Gallo Tricolor Review, and Robespierre Review. He participated in many Festivals of Poetry, and Theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Genève .He has exposed in many galleries from Madrid, Burgos, London, and Amsterdam. He is moving between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: gallotricolor@yahoo.com
When I was a teenager I donated to a little orphan since then I made a vow that I would adopt her, and marry her
Days go by and nights come I learned how to hurt myself by doing bad habits that will guide me to die below the bridge
I lost count of my harmful cuts I lost all the joyful memories and moments from weeping beneath the lights of the miserable bar
My mother thought that I was well, As my smile hid the tears that damaged my physical therapist within minutes after hearing me
I lost many chances and luck until I met a broken heart, she cried when she knew that I found what was missing of me
I found her between all of my poetry between all of my cigarette smoke I tried to lose her as I saw my shadow following her
Ann you didn’t adopted a regular girl you have definitely raised one angel that showed me life with colours From your love and care for my princess
the grief inside of me has smiled when your daughter kissed my salty lips and wiped my tears, hopefully she will close my eyes after my smiling face rests
Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad, Iraq. His work has appeared in print and online journals globally and has poems translated into several languages. He has been nominated for Best of the Net 2018. He is the author of The Bleeding Heart Poet, Love On The War’s Frontline, Gas Chamber, Wounds from Iraq, and Roofs of Dreams all of which are available from Amazon. He lives in Montreal, Canada.
Eduard Schmidt-Zorner is an artist and a translator and writer of poetry, crime novels and short stories.He writes haibun, tanka, haiku and poetry in four languages: English, French, Spanish and German and holds workshops on Japanese and Chinese style poetry and prose.Member of four writer groups in Ireland and lives in County Kerry, Ireland, for more than 25 years and is a proud Irish citizen, born in Germany.Published in 60 anthologies, literary journals and broadsheets in UK, Ireland, Canada and USA.Writes also under his pen name: Eadbhard McGowan.
You walk thru my door bringing in rays of sunshine behind you
Your presence is soothing & relaxing & yes this is true
You have handfuls of peacefulness & you come over with a heart full of content
The moment you walk thru the door I’m hoping the opposite way you will have never ever went
A smile full of beauty, a soft gentle touch to warm the heart
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, this wasn’t how it was supposed to start
But now it is & were trapped in each others ideas of what could be
We want to take it to the next level, to see what it is it should be
So what feels like years, has only been days
I can’t help myself cuz u got me feelin like I’m in a daze
& what feels like days feels like years
I’m ready to let you in, so please help me walk thru these fears
I told you that you’re at the top of my list, so there’s no one else above you
& it’s getting to the point where I want to tell you _ ____ ___
& our souls braid together in order to become one
& when we make love it’s like the rising of the sun
I gotta make sure the timing is correct
Don’t want to let you down, truly out of respect
But I’m willing to take a chance & risk it all for the thought of us
It’s going to take a lot of respect, honesty, love, & trust
Soft touches that make us blush
Take your time so we don’t have to rush
But now it’s time for you to go & I’m not sure when I will see you again,
But the more were together the more I like you for more than just a friend
If I get the chance I’m gonna keep you all to myself
I’m willing to let my guard down but please be careful nursing my heart back to health
I need you to support me in my goals & dreams
I need you to never leave
I need your nurturing touch
You see, I need you so much
Our hearts best in tandem
We both breathe in unison
I’m hoping that when my phone goes off that it will be you again
So never despair My love because I will be your hero
Even when we’re apart I promise I’m still here though
Your voice sounds so at ease
Like on a bright sunny day w the wind blowing thru the trees
It soothes me, comforts me, & heals me
I want to love the real you & you to love the real me
So let us not get lost or caught up in doing the wrong thing
Because if we allow love to flow, then happiness it will bring
______, my heart beats for you…..
Eric was born in Omaha, Nebraska. He graduated from Boys Town high school and went on to get a degree in Social Work. He married at 19 but later got divorced and has raised two children alone. His love for music and arts has led him to his writing. Much of his poetry and writings come from experiences and love of life. He often adds humor to enlighten and has been writing for over 20 years.
no longer am I the knight of a stranger’s dark dream
sad am I,
with a thirsty spirit seeking for a bloody river
lost am I,
I cannot find a way to heal my wounds during the day
drunk am I,
running away from people’s hateful judgments
sick am I,
waiting on the bullet to end my miserable hope
fool am I,
for believing in tears, and ignoring the mouths of lies
who am I,
today I am miserable for writing on the city walls
who will I be,
nothing but a drunk writer in a forgotten cemetery
Writing a Letter
I will be writing a letter
to nobody brave or I know
I want to say I am sorry
for the ones, who hurts me before
I know that life is more
than one locked door
perhaps, my heart is the
house with broken lock to protect me
yet, my enemy win over my
innocent moves, his words
are sharp knives, and my answers
are the seeds of the plants in heaven
being blind means, you are
gifted, you just believe in the
ones who wishes you death
and nothing else of good in darkness
I am not Alone
O people, I am not alone in this world
my spirit may be tired of my wounds
I’m seldom hopeless to find the door
to knock on, to open and, forgive me
they say that love comes very softly
under the stars, in front of my sight
she will be beautifully hostage on the
one-way bridge to the blinding light
up in the smoke of my cigarettes
I taste her lips, when I add a teaspoon
of earth and sea, in my cup of
nostalgia, of her body and scent
the bitter flavour of lonesome
it’s the time, I draw her on the mist
a stranger is watching me in tears
even though he doesn’t know me
I am not alone, but you are alone
you will miss me, when my blood
will be the cut of a sacred river,
Ahmad Al-Khatat, was born in Baghdad, Iraq on May 8th. He has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world and has poems translated in several languages. He has published two poetry books “The Bleeding Heart Poet” and “Love On The War’s Frontline” which are available on Amazon. Most of his new and old poems are also available on his official page Bleeding Heart Poet on Facebook.
Brian Rihlmann was born in NJ, and currently lives in Reno, NV. He writes mostly semi autobiographical, confessional free verse. Folk poetry…for folks. He has been published in The Rye Whiskey Review, Cajun Mutt Press, Alien Buddha Zine, Synchronized Chaos, Madness Muse Press and The American Journal Of Poetry.
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and three cats. Her most recent credits are: Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Synchronized Chaos, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.
Glory Sasikala is a poet and writer currently residing in Chennai, Tamilnadu, India. She is the Editor and Publisher of the Monthly Online Prose and Poetry magazine, ‘GloMag’ and is the administrator of the group of the same name on Facebook. She is a language editor and quality analyst by profession.
I walked into the crystalline corridor of the time-
I want to open
the doors of gold.
Lines of words in the sun-
Singing to me in the sky-
I want to find
the volumes of gold poems
on the shores of the new century
to build the city of gold.
Laozi with rosy cheek and white hair-
Smiles at me in the clouds,
A phoenix dances trippingly
and carries with it, a book of gold.
Lines of mysterious words
made my eyes drunken,
countless giant figures
came towards me from the clouds.
Ages through seventy million years
emerged leisurely before my eyes,
the cities of gold
surrounded with crystalline gardens.
A sky of sapphire
sent out a colorful miraculous brightness,
onto green hills of jasper,
dragons and phoenixes were flying
Exquisite pagoda-
with majestical palace of gold,
the airy pavilions and pagodas
stood within the purple-red clouds
Laughing girls
riding the colorful husbands and wives,
propitious clouds
sprinkling the colorful flowers.
I opened the door to a golden palace,
saw the rows of scrolls of gold,
a giant who had the haloes all over his body-
there was a golden sun over his head.
Smiling, he picked up the books of gold
recited the sacred verses-
Intoxicated with the miraculous wonderful words
I was enveloped with purple-gold flames.
A golden lotus
bloomed beneath my feet,
lifted up my body,
wafting it up out of the golden palace
The red clouds
drifted by my side,
in the far distance I saw
another golden paradise
the leisurely bells
calling to me.
There- countless giants
roamed in a golden garden,
with skies of ruby,
rounds of sun
like the golden lotus
blooming in the sky,
intoxicating fragrances of flowers
like sweet good wine,
golden trees
laden with the dazzling diamonds,
wonderful flowers
in bloom for a thousand years,
this land of gold
inlaid with the gems.
The pavilions of gold were
strewn at random, clustered in multitude.
Someone was playing chess
Someone was chatting…
Quaint clothes
colossal statures
miraculous eyes-
happy and comfortable.
White cranes
flying in the sky,
husbands and wives
crowing leisurely.
Beside an old man I approached
as if he were waiting for me
in this golden pavilion.
He opened an ancient sword casket-
A glittering ancient sword
engraved with abstruse words and expressions,
which were clear and transparent, like lightning,
dimly glowed with purplish-red patterns.
He told me a metaphysical epic:
The sword came from nine billions years ago,
made from hundreds of millions of suns.
It was a sacred sword of the sun-
It could pierce the rocks of time,
open layer after layer of skies,
let the sacred fires forge the heaven and the earth
into golden paradises.
The old man’s eyes were deep, archaic, difficult to discern-
Dimly showing the joyful flames.
He let me take this sword
to fly towards a new golden paradise:
The huge golden lotus floated leisurely-
I flew among the skies, for a thousand miles.
Huge pyramids
loomed impressively in front of my eyes
Mountainous figures of giants
walked about in front of the pyramid,
the huge pyramids of gold
far taller than the mountains.
The giant trees of gold
like a forest
stood in the sky
laden with the stars.
The multi-colored propitious clouds
were like a colossal bird
in a silvery sky,
crowing joyfully.
I came to the front of a pyramid-
a door was opening wide for me,
a group of blond giants
sat with smiles in the grand palace.
An old and great holy man
recited in monotone.
The temple was painted with the magical symbols
and giant portraits of Gods.
The palace was full of silvery white light
blooming with magnificent flowers,
a peal of wonderful mellifluous bells
that made one suddenly forget all time.
I heard an immemorial verse
that was written hundreds of millions of years past,
relating countless eras of giants,
the creation of the holy kingdoms of heaven.
Their wisdom was sacred and great
knowing, omniscently, the past and the future of the universe.
They flew freely among the skies
landed on the millions of planets in the universe.
They altered time per one’s pleasure,
encompassed other powers, such as-
turning stone into gold,
making gold bloom into flowers.
They were like the bulbous sun,
which could erupt with sacred flames
let all things blaze in raging flames..
Manifest imagination into reality..
They landed on planets
establishing golden paradises
and with their magical, cryptic wisdom
built platinum cities.
I saw the splendid words
spied from the volume of gold
and the magical wonderful halos
rotating like colorful lightning in the sky.
I came to another wonderful planet,
saw a massive monumental edifice of platinum,
the whole city, an intricate work of art
emanating, softly, a brilliant white light.
A huge round square
encased unearthly works.
Giants of great stature
came and went leisurely in the street.
They wore spartan, common clothing
covering their bodies,
all with smiles upon their faces,
both men and women looked beautiful.
They spoke a wonderful language
intriguing and pleasant as welcome music.
Some of them travelled by spaceship
flying around silently in the sky.
I walked into a towering edifice of platinum-
saw a magnificent hall,
its platinum walls were inlaid with gems,
among which was a row of unusual instruments.
Their eyes were like bright springs
and they wore multi-colored clothes.
Some were operating the instruments.
Some were talking softly among themselves.
I saw a fascinating picture, a simulacrum that
drew giant planets,
arranged cities on those planets,
with crystal gardens.
I opened a crystal door-
noticed a group of men and women, who were happily,
singing softly,
with glittering books of gold in their hands.
Arrangements of flowers and glasses filled of golden wine
sat on the huge round table.
Golden walls were sparkling
carved with all kinds of wonderful images.
I saw a demure girl,
with sparkling golden halo above her head,
adorned in a lengthy purple-gold dress
peerless in its quality.
Pages- were marked with cryptic glyphs
or lines of ancient magic words or symbols,
each of their books were made of gold
inexplicably constructed in golden crystal.
I understood their euphonious songs-
They were singing the sacred love
They were singing great ancestors
They were recounting the civilization of the universe
Gardens filled their city, everywhere,
surrounded with the sweet rivers.
The whole earth was a piece of jade,
the clay, a translucent layer of golden sands.
I saw enormous bright, white spheres
suspended high above the city,
emanating outwards a dazzling light-
illuminating the skies and earth- bright as the crystal
The towering, great buildings stood in great numbers
As if carved by a singular piece of platinum.
Doves and colorful birds
were flying among the heavens.
A mono-train was
flying swiftly through the sky,
the streets were illuminated in bright white,
and any moving vehicle could not have been seen.
These people’s bodies were unusually strong.
Playing a wonderful game-
they piled up the pieces of great stones
arranging into grotesque works.
Similar to giant eyes
and ancient totems,
there were strange birds
covered with lightning feathers.
I saw a couple of tall lovers-
aviators, riding in their spaceship.
Their eyes were quiet and bright,
colorful halo around their bodies.
This wonderful space was gyrating leisurely
like a huge, resplendent crystal.
I said goodbye to the unusual city,
towards a space of golden light.
The cities flashed in the sky.
I flew over the layers of the sky again
and I saw a new-fangled world:
the multi-colored city of crystal.
The high towers were exquisitely carved
displaying multi-colored pearls,
layers of its eave painted with dragon and phoenix,
hung with singing golden bells.
The earth was a crystal garden,
the palaces were limpid and crystal,
huge mountains were like a transparent gems
lined with the golden trees.
I saw the tall giants-
who wore their purple clothes,
with heads of round suns,
bodies enshrined with halos.
They sat up in the main halls
singing a mellifluous song.
Some were roaming leisurely in the garden.
Some were summoning the birds in the sky.
The crystalline airy pavilions and pagodas
were beset with jewels and agates,
a huge jewel on the spire,
shining golden lights.
I saw a holy giant
sitting in the middle of a main hall
the purple-gold flame, flashed around his body,
which filled with the whole majestic main hall.
Full-bodied fragrance filled the hall
like a cup of refreshing wine.
Solemn expression was merciful and joyful,
a huge book was in his hand.
The hall was full of men and women
listening quietly to the psalms of the saints,
the lotuses were floating in the sky
where the smiling giants sat.
The golden light poured down from the sky
bathing the whole of this crystal kingdom.
The jewels above the giant towers-
the golden suns.
The golden walls of a golden tower
were carved with the lines of golden words I had glimpsed-
hovering around the dragons and phoenixes,
as if they were intonating the inspiring poems.
The smiling giants in the sky-
With wide halo flashing around their bodies,
were each dignified and tranquil,
floating in the golden translucent sky.
I flew over this crystal kingdom,
saw a vast golden mountain in the distance
sending out the brilliant lights in the sky
where the propitious clouds were blossoming.
This was a golden giant
sitting in the golden translucent sky
his body composed of thousands of millions of constellations
the golden sun rotating on his forehead.
He lit up the whole marvellous universe-
the kingdoms of heaven shone in the sky.
Here there was no the sky nor earth,
lights of pure gold emanated in every direction.
The smiling giants were sitting
on the gold-engraved pavilions.
The pavilions levitated in the translucent sky
shining the layers of purple-gold light.
A scene of multi-colored translucent mountains,
propitious clouds floating in the heavens,
large wonderful flowers blooming in the mountain peaks,
trees of pure light.
A river flowed from the sky
and with river bottom reflecting a layer of golden sand.
There were strange and beautiful birds and beasts
some like aerial phantoms.
This was a world of light.
Everything was made of light.
The divine light formed all things
and the golden paradises.
The golden giant-
shines the kingdoms of heaven within his body.
The cities of gold-
brilliant and fascinating in his bones.
I observed lines, words of incredible profundity
arranged into a huge book in the sky.
It seemed as if they were the bright stars
constituting a wonderous drawing.
There was a golden pavilion in the sky
guarded with behemoth dragons and phoenixes.
An old man with a whisk
waved to me and smiled in the pavilion,
I seem to be attracted by some sort of magic-
leisurely came to his side.
He told me the golden giant
was namely my great ancestor
This was an eternal palace-
There’s no concept of time here.
Holy light- was exactly the God.
What I witnessed was better than the heavens.
He pointed to the huge book in the sky
told me that it was the mystery of the universe.
The book contained magical wisdom,
created the countless worlds of gold.
He pointed to a pagoda in the sky,
told me that it was the temple of words.
The light turned into the sacred words,
and the words created the time of gold.
He held up a very large pearl
in which flashed the pictures (and all images).
He told me that it was the future time-
the embodiment of all the wonderful worlds.
He told me that it was another universe.
Still desiring to go to these paradises,
he gave me the magical pearl,
to let it be my future guide.
I said goodbye to the old holy man,
set afoot onto a new road towards the heavens again.
I sat in a golden pavilion-
lightly flew to the distant outer space…
02.09.1998
Yuan Hongri (born 1962) is a renowned Chinese mystic, poet, and philosopher. His work has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada, and Nigeria; his poems have appeared in Poet’s Espresso Review, Orbis, Tipton Poetry Journal, Harbinger Asylum, The Stray Branch, Acumen, Pinyon Review, Taj Mahal Review, Madswirl, Shot Glass Journal, Amethyst Review, The Poetry Village, and other e-zines, anthologies, and journals. His best known works are Platinum City and Golden Giant. His works explore themes of prehistoric and future civilization.
Yuanbing Zhang (b. 1974), is Mr.Yuan Hongi’s assiastant and translator.He is a Chinese poet and translator, works in a Middle School, Yanzhou District , Jining City, Shandong Province, China. He can be contacted through his email-3112362909@qq.com.
Wayne Russell is or has been many things during his lifetime, he has been a creative writer, world traveler, graphic designer, former soldier, and former sailor. Wayne has been widely published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines. From 2016-17 he also founded and edited Degenerate Literature. In late 2018, the editors at Ariel Chart nominated Wayne for his first Pushcart Prize for the poem Stranger in a Strange Town. In addition; he was nominated for Best of the Net via the editor at The Abyss. “Where Angels Fear” is his debut poetry book published by Guerrilla Genesis Press.
DS Maolalai has been nominated nine times for Best of the Net and seven times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019).
Heather Sager lives in Illinois, USA. Her most recent poetry appears in Fahmidan Journal, Magma Poetry, Version (9) Magazine, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Red Wolf, Trouvaille Review, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and more. Recent fiction appears in The Fabulist and elsewhere.
Kenneth Vincent Walker is a “New Formalist” poet, spoken word artist, performer and author of Borderline Absurd (An Exercise in Rhyme and Reason), published by Poem Sugar Press 2015.
Joshua Martin is a Philadelphia based writer and filmmaker, who currently works in a library. He is the author of the books combustible panoramic twists (Trainwreck Press), Pointillistic Venetian Blinds (Alien Buddha Press) and Vagabond fragments of a hole (Schism Neuronics). He has had numerous pieces published in various journals including Otoliths, M58, The Sparrow’s Trombone, Coven, Scud, Ygdrasil, RASPUTIN, Ink Pantry, and Synchronized Chaos. You can find links to his published work at joshuamartinwriting.blogspot.com.
Sanghpriya Gautam is an aspiring poet who is trying to find life’s meaning in between the leaves through the busyness of life. He has done his MPhil in English Literature and is currently pursuing Ph.D in English Literature.
Snake, a sixth of a pig, a rooster, a rat, a water
Buffalo, a donkey, a goat or chimpanzee &
Each seems fated to fall within or without some
Chinese zodiac year
While my wife often
Looks like a nasty cat, she says my face oftener
shows all the hideousness of a demon, as if to re-
Mind her like every other fellow human, I was
Born in an extra year of Satan though we were
All created equal in His image
Yuan Changming hails with Allen Yuan from poetrypacific.blogspot.ca. Credits include Pushcart nominations besides appearances in Best of the Best Canadian Poetry (2008-17) & BestNewPoemsOnline, among others. Recently, Yuan published his eleventh chapbook Limerence, and served on the jury for Canada’s 44th National Magazine Awards (poetry category).
a cackling chicken after laying an egg, what a tune,
after saying enough of the egg song, I headed
for the forest, a mannerless mosquito tingled
me before buzzing & whining away, damn!,
evading my swat by the skin of its proboscis,
how could it bite me to obtain protein that
it needs in order to lay its eggs? more what?
that meant more mosquito bites in the future,
in the wilderness a quail called, a lion roared,
a hapless hare squeaked , a cricket chirped,
a monkey chattered like a tireless gossip,
so much so that an okapi let out ….yes
a mocking, maddening cough while,
a giant alligator appeared & bellowed,
& if that did not get me crying & cringing,
the elephant`s trumpeting saw my feet fly away!
Ndaba has authored 24 published books and coauthored more than 100 published books. Sibanda is the author of Cabinet Meetings, The Immigrant With A Difference, Notes, Themes, Things And Other Things, The Gushungo Way, Sleeping Rivers, Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing, Football of Fools, Cutting-edge Cache, Of the Saliva and the Tongue, When Inspiration Sings In Silence, The Way Forward, Sometimes Seasons Come With Unseasonal Harvests, As If They Minded: The Loudness Of Whispers, This Cannot Be Happening :Speaking Truth To Power, The Dangers Of Child Marriages: Billions Of Dollars Lost In Earnings And Human Capital, The Ndaba Jamela and Collections and Poetry Pharmacy. His work is featured in The Anthology House, in The New Shoots Anthology, and in The Van Gogh Anthology, and A Worldwide Anthology of One Hundred Poetic Intersections. Some of Ndaba`s works are found or forthcoming in Page & Spine, Peeking Cat, Piker Press , SCARLET LEAF REVIEW , Universidad Complutense de Madrid, the Pangolin Review, Kalahari Review ,Botsotso, The Ofi Press Magazine, Hawaii Pacific Review, Deltona Howl, The song is, Indian Review, Eunoia Review, JONAH magazine, Saraba Magazine, Poetry Potion, Saraba Magazine, The Borfski Press, Snippets, East Coast Literary Review, Random Poem Tree, festival-of-language and Whispering Prairie Press. Sibanda has received the following nominations: the national arts merit awards (NAMA), 2016 Mary Ballard Poetry Chapbook Prize, The Best of the Net Prose and the Pushcart Prize.
Lorraine Caputo is a documentary poet, translator and travel writer. Her works appear in over 250 journals on six continents; and 18 collections of poetry – including On Galápagos Shores (dancing girl press, 2019) and Escape to the Sea (Origami Poems Project, 2021). She also authors travel narratives, articles and guidebooks. In 2011, the Parliamentary Poet Laureate of Canada honored her verse. Caputo has done literary readings from Alaska to the Patagonia. She journeys through Latin America, listening to the voices of the pueblos and Earth.
The role of the artist in society has changed dramatically at various times in recorded western history. One of the earliest notable exemplars of the reputable place that a poet occupied in society is Aeschylus, who did his public duty in 490 b.c., when he fought against the Persians at the battle of Marathon, participating in the struggle for survival of the democratic polis, Athens.
The options of the artist diminished rapidly with the growth of empires, since the role of the artist is not vital to the existence of the state. For almost two millennia, the normal pattern of life for the artist was dependency on patrons, sponsors, or commissions. The exceptions were the select few born to privilege, for example, Byron, who gave his life for Greek freedom, perishing in 1824 at Missolongi, during the Ottoman siege. During this span, the artists outside the system led difficult lives and were fortunate to practice their art, however difficult the conditions.
The Industrial Revolution diversified the control of wealth by the lords of power, bringing forth a new class of financial barons, who turned to the arts in imitation of their betters. Suddenly artists were able to create their work without it being pre-sold, consequently they were no longer mere craft-persons. Many became personages of some stature in the eyes of the new prosperous middle-class society.
From the 1870’s on, some artists had a world view that allowed them to look beyond their individual discipline, as they searched for a more significant role in the life around them. Poets patriotically enlisted in World War I, and the British poets in particular wrote about the horror they experienced. The poets who dutifully went to war in World War II returned quietly and never really developed a public identity. The crisis for American poets began in the early stages of the Cold War. American painters skyrocketed to world acclaim, fame, fortune, while the poets composed in relative obscurity. More and more poets sought a modicum of security, finding shelter in universities far from public recognition and reward.
In a dynamic American cultural revolution, every art form from the 1960’s on, offered the possibility of wealth and status to the artist, except poetry. Poetry had no opera houses, concert halls, museums, galleries, or mass-market publishers to attract large audiences. But the poets now were college-educated and with a few exceptions, such as the Beats, led obscure lives in colleges. The artificial atmosphere comforted the isolated wordsmiths with the illusion of accomplishment, reaching small groups of students, readers of poetry periodicals, and miniscule audiences attending poetry readings.
Poetry in America experienced an identity crisis. The anti-Vietnam war movement in the late 1960’s firmly closed the portals on the topic of war, mankind’s most consequential activity, as a suitable subject. Virtually all American poets were liberals and in all good conscience opposed war, so the government became the enemy. Since the poets mostly could not identify the capitalist owners of America, they scorned the system of flawed representative government and retreated further into safe niches. Internal revelations and lurid exposés of parental abuse became valid subject matter, transforming the nature of poetry into microcosmic excursions, rather then explorations of big issues.
In an era of uncertainties and dangerous conflicts, domestic and foreign, there is no designated role for the artist in American society. The very concept of training poets in college, an environment that discourages extremes and negates any natural inclination to action, leaves the poet adrift in a world that dismisses the practitioners of passivity.
The poet travels towards his or her destination, a journey of creation of what should be a meaningful body of work, through a haphazard combination of education, exposure and personal preferences. This occurs in an unstructured process that makes the accomplishments fortuitous. In medicine or engineering, students are taught and trained by measurable standards and the results are assessable. Even acting, the most superficial of the performing arts, which lacks the stringent requirements of music or dance, has more predictable goals than poetry. The poet’s path could be adventurous, since it explores an uncharted wilderness without landmarks or traveler’s aids, but it will be a dismal voyage for the timid.
Poetry, once the preeminent literary art, has been supplanted by mass market commercial fiction. The authors of novels have become far more prominent than any poet, whose limited possibilities of achievements are determined by effort, talent, and coincidence. Rarely is anything meaningful achieved without a mentor, the sponsorship of a like-minded network, or a supportive artistic community. The poet can be susceptible to a stifling tendency to huddle together in protective enclaves, rather than move in the sphere of the world at large.
The poet must learn to expand his or her perception of existence and enlarge their scope of interest, or risk becoming inconsequential in this demanding life. There is an urgent need to reach out to diverse audiences, prisoners, seniors, the culturally underserved, and most important, to youth, not to make them poets, but to introduce them to a broader view of life. With proper instruction, poetry is the most accessible and cost-effective way to reach large numbers of youth. The constriction of the classroom rarely develops confidence in youth, the quality that allows them to choose who they will grow up to be. The poet can help launch venturesome journeys for youth that will promote their contribution to the future of our society.
It is implausible that America will produce warrior-poets who will fight on tomorrow’s battlefields of freedom. But those poets who wish to participate in the life of their times, participate in a grander arena of creativity, design a meaningful role for themselves in their society, must outreach to needy and deprived audiences. The poet’s efforts will enrich their audiences, who in turn will reward those poets who are receptive with the great satisfaction derived from serving humanity.
Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theater director and worked as an art dealer when he couldn’t earn a living in the theater. He has also been a tennis pro, a ditch digger and a salvage diver. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines and his published books include 28 poetry collections, 11 novels, 3 short story collections, 1 collection of essays and 2 books of plays. Published poetry books include: Dawn in Cities, Assault on Nature, Songs of a Clerk, Civilized Ways, Displays, Perceptions, Fault Lines, Tremors, Perturbations, Rude Awakenings, The Remission of Order, Contusions and Desperate Seeker (Winter Goose Publishing. Forthcoming: Learning Curve and Ignition Point). Earth Links, Too Harsh For Pastels, Severance, Redemption Value and Fractional Disorder (Cyberwit Publishing). His novels include Extreme Change (Winter Goose Publishing). and Wavelength (Cyberwit Publishing). His short story collections include: A Glimpse of Youth (Sweatshoppe Publications). Now I Accuse and other stories (Winter Goose Publishing) and Dogs Don’t Send Flowers and other stories (Wordcatcher Publishing). Collected Essays of Gary Beck (Cyberwit Publishing). The Big Match and other one act plays (Wordcatcher Publishing). Collected Plays of Gary Beck Volume 1 and Three Comedies by Aristophanes translated, then directed by Gary Beck (Cyberwit Publishing). Gary lives in New York City.
A new week ushered in: Sunday morning greeted them in style
A pleased pair of ears received pattering sounds: a dream shower
It poured down and enriched the land. Nature`s love was live!
Land was quenched of thirst, plants healed of pangs of dehydration
Rivers roared in celebration, dams hugged inflows in humming ways
Farmers were ready to farm, fauna and flora flourished as if feted
Cut Down
They bought lawn mower after lawn mower
as if they had lots of cash or they had grassland
yet they wanted to bid on government contracts
to cut the unkempt hair of government officials!
They brought razor blade after razor blade
as if they wanted to cut the long nails of officials
yet all they sought to do was to move from shop
to shop in order to cut down the prices of goods!
An Orgy Of Bondage And Plundering
He had an insatiable hunger for all things
That clanked like capitals and cartels
He had the disorder of grabbing all—
And a compulsion to cheap labor
His cluster, his colony and all
Were founded on captivity
Oh Africa, oh dear Africa
You surely don’t want
Or warrant any pain
And a rain of drain
Anymore, anytime
For an official’s gain
Ndaba Sibanda has contributed to the following anthologies: Its Time, Poems For Haiti- a South African anthology, Snippets ,Voices For Peace and Black Communion. He edited Free Fall (2017). The recipient of a Starry Night ART School scholarship in 2015, Sibanda is the author of Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing and Football of Fools. His work is featured in The New Shoots Anthology, The Van Gogh Anthology edited by Catfish McDaris and Dr. Marc Pietrzykowski, Eternal Snow, A Worldwide Anthology of One Hundred Poetic Intersections with Himalayan Poet Yuyutsu RD Sharma scheduled for publication in Spring/Summer 2017 by Nirala Press and Seeing Beyond the Surface Volume II.
CL Bledsoe’s latest poetry collection is Trashcans in Love. His latest short story collection is The Shower Fixture Played the Blues. His latest novel is The Funny Thing About… Bledsoe lives in northern Virginia with his daughter and blogs, with Michael Gushue, at https://medium.com/@howtoeven.
Your beauty shattered the air in my lungs, leaving me speechless, forced to communicate with my fingers on your pale skin;
you answered me, your breath drawing deeply, repeatedly, with a song silently, endlessly sung.
Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll. His debut poetry collection “Playing PoohsticksOnHa’Penny Bridge” was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Lewis Milne, Orson Carroll, Blinded Architect, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll. His debut poetry collection “Playing PoohsticksOnHa’Penny Bridge” was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Lewis Milne, Orson Carroll, Blinded Architect, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
Edilson Afonso Ferreira, 75 years, is a Brazilian poet who writes in English rather than in Portuguese. Largely published in international journals in print and online, he began writing at age 67, after retirement as a bank employee. Nominated for The Pushcart Prize 2017, his first Poetry Collection, Lonely Sailor, One Hundred Poems, was launched in London, November 2018. He is always updating his works at http://www.edilsonmeloferreira.com.
Shola Balogun, poet,playwright and filmmaker has been featured as a guest writer and contributor,especially in the areas of poetry, post colonial studies and dramatic criticism to various magazines,anthologies and journals. He studied Theatre Arts at the University of Ibadan. Balogun lives in Lagos,Nigeria.
A cap and tweed coated, wiry gent boards the train
nose bleeding, hand over a blackened eye he holds
out an empty coffee cup to catch contributions
no words accompany phlegmy volleys of “Ahem”
smiling as coins drop, he tilts and bobbles thanks
A gum-chewing troubadour strums an electric guitar
that’s the tint of the panhandler’s blot, a tad shinier
a Yank in a yachting lid and a mismatched suit
pumps his cane as if once the song and dance kind
is the pretty, pixie-headed arm jewelry a stowaway?
She looks more mistress than daughter or wife
her breathy accent conjures a quaint crepe shop
close your eyes and poof: breathe Left Bank air
as they dawdle along navigating the crosswalks
the crowded sidewalks she’s nearly carrying him
Leaning against a wall by a fragrant flower stall
she holds a lacy handkerchief to his allergy flow
his boating cap drops top first attracting a medley
of coins and himself, mistress, wife or daughter
slide warily down to share laughs bawdy or not
Thomas M. McDade is a 73 year-old resident of Fredericksburg, VA. He is a graduate of Fairfield University, Fairfield, CT. McDade is twice a U.S. Navy Veteran.
On eery nights as tonight, Your phantom plagues me. A scintilla of buried delight That only the graves see. Your eyes beset my soul As if to a beast I’ve been sold. You’ve become a raucous ghoul, And I find an abode in your cold. A haughty banshee’s rage resides in you, But how oblivious you are. Cadaverous face and feral shadow too, And a glimmer of purity shrieks from afar.
David Estringel is an avid reader, poet, and writer of fiction, creative non-fiction, & essays. His work has been accepted and/or published by Specter Magazine, Literary Juice, Foliate Oak Magazine,Terror House Magazine, Expat Press, 50 Haikus, littledeathlit, Down in the Dirt Magazine, Route 7 Review, Setu Bilingual Journal, Paper Trains Literary Journal, The Elixir Magazine, Soft Cartel,Harbinger Asylum, Briars Lit, Open Arts Forum, Cajun Mutt Press, Former People Journal, The Ugly Writers, Writ in Dust, Cephalopress, Twist in Time, Merak Magazine, Salt Water Soul, Cherry House Press, Subterranean Blue Poetry, Printed Words, Sunflower Sutras, Tulip Tree Publishing, Salt, PPP Ezine, Digging through the Fat, Haiku Journal, and The Good Men Project. He is currently a Contributing Editor (fiction) at Red Fez, Lead Editor/columnist at The Good Men Project, and an editor/writer at The Elixir Magazine. David can be found on Twitter (@The_Booky_Man) and his website at http://davidaestringel.com.
Bruce McRae, a Canadian musician currently residing on Salt Spring Island BC, is a multiple Pushcart nominee with over 1,400 poems published internationally in magazines such as Poetry, Rattle and the North American Review. His books are ‘The So-Called Sonnets (Silenced Press), ‘An Unbecoming Fit Of Frenzy’ (Cawing Crow Press) and ‘Like As If” (Pski’s Porch), Hearsay (The Poet’s Haven).
but with rodents carrying her away on their backs. At times whole families
taking slivers, chunks, slices,
or a crumb for the rogue insect.
The cookie crumbles
as the strangers feast.
.
Paula Hackett’s poetry is influenced by her life experiences growing up in Berkeley during the vibrant and explosive 60’s. The daughter of novelist Paul Hackett, she studied under John Beecher, Angela Davis and Grover Sales. She has written lyrics in collaboration with her brother John Hackett, for many great jazz composers including Teddy Edwards, John Handy, Ivan Lins, Joe Sample, Eddie ‘Cleanhead’ Vinson, and Cedar Walton. Her life long love of jazz is reflected in her many poems about musicians and in her CDs with pianists Rudi Wongozi and Connie Crothers. Her discography is represented in the images and links below.
covered with an aging patina of dark contradictions
whispered across forgotten memories
causing screams of agony:
My crystal poems
written in scarlet ink,
were shattered by metamorphic hammers
pounding words of grief
into shattered synonyms,
causing dark allegories to become lost
inside the cold weariness of my aging bones.
While walking in a cemetery,
images of broken tombstones
in a field of unknown graves
entered my consciousness
and trails of tears melted into the cemetery’s soil
filling it with sorrow.
I sensed once forgotten memories
being awakened in my brain,
and sharp pangs of grief
started piercing my collapsing mind
in a fit of decomposing reality.
James, a Best of Web nominee and three time Pushcart nominee, has had four collections of poetry; “Solace Between the Lines,” “Light,” “Ancient Rhythms,” and “The Silent Pond,” over 1525 poems, five novels and 35 short stories published worldwide. He earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, SLO, and his doctorate from BYU.
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program. His stories, “Soon,” “How To Be A Good Episcopalian,” and “Tales From A Communion Line,” were nominated for Pushcarts. Yash’s work has been published in The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, Write City Magazine, and Ariel Chart, among others.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Orbis, Dalhousie Review and Connecticut River Review. Latest book, “Leaves On Pages” is available through Amazon.
DS Maolalai has been nominated four times for Best of the Net and three times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019)
As my ship departs the comfort of familiar shores, the emptiness devours shadows of this endless night, silence engulfs everything.
Alone again, water surrounds this vessel, within the vast cradle of darkness, I am eclipsed by silent galaxies, on a parade of terrifying hopelessness.
You’re standing on the shore, in a shadowy silhouette, a memory too the world, dead left in the wake of this ship that morphs, transparent, and shattered into oblivion.
Wayne Russell is or has been many things in his time upon this planet, he has been a creative writer, world traveler, graphic designer, former soldier, and former sailor. Wayne has been widely published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines. From 2016-17 he also founded and edited Degenerate Literature. In late 2018, the editors at Ariel Chart nominated Wayne for his first Pushcart Prize for the poem Stranger in a Strange Town. “Where Angels Fear” is his debut poetry book published by Guerrilla Genesis Press.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.
Mohammad Saif is currently working as a Visiting Faculty with Amity Institute of English Studies and Research, Amity University, and teaches English and Communication skills at undergraduate and postgraduate level. He earned Distinction in M.Phil. for his dissertation ‘A Study of Selected Narratives on the Tradition and Practice of Al-Hijama’. Driven by sheer alacrity and insatiable thirst for knowledge he seeks growth in the field of academia.
‘On Christ Cleansing the Temple, Wood by El Greco, c. 1570’
We surely must follow Christ, learn from him,
unquestionable master of love and tolerance.
Son of God, yet a brother, he bequeathed us
divine words and deeds that survive forever.
The way he loved us, great and pure,
no one had or has ever equally leveled.
His sacrifice on behalf of humanity,
that of then and of coming times,
unworthy and infidel ones, perhaps,
just by this,
took him to redeem us from bitter destiny.
But, aside from his Divinity, his grandeur,
do not forget the passage of Matthew 21-12,
when he entered the temple of his father.
Then, not by a conversation or dialogue,
‘He cast out all them that sold and bought’,
‘overthrew the tables of the moneychangers’.
I love this Christ, so human and so brother,
who did not conceal his anger, as one of us.
By now, in our time, to honor our Lord,
we have failed to call up one Saint Fury,
just like that day.
Edilson Afonso Ferreira , 76 years, is a Brazilian poet who writes in English rather than in Portuguese. Widely published in selected international journals in print and online, he began writing at age 67, after retiring as a bank employee. Nominated for The Pushcart Prize 2017, his first Poetry Collection, Lonely Sailor, One Hundred Poems, was launched in London in November of 2018. He is always updating his works atwww.edilsonmeloferreira.com.
Bobbi Sinha-Morey’s poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain,The Wayfarer,Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia RisingReview, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at www.Amazon.com and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net in 2015, the Best of the Net 2018 Anthology Awards hosted by Sundress Publications, and the 2020 Best of the Net anthology. Her website is located at http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.
J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words and sound in his subterranean laboratory. More than 1,500 of his poems have appeared in many small press publications, in print and online. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). Visit www.MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.
Ndaba Sibanda is the author of Notes, Themes, Things And Other Things, The Gushungo Way, Sleeping Rivers, Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing, Football of Fools, Cutting-edge Cache, Of the Saliva and the Tongue, When Inspiration Sings In Silence, The Way Forward, Sometimes Seasons Come With Unseasonal Harvests, As If They Minded:The Loudness Of Whispers, This Cannot Be Happening :Speaking Truth To Power, The Dangers Of Child Marriages:Billions Of Dollars Lost In Earnings And Human Capital, The Ndaba Jamela and Collections and Poetry Pharmacy. Sibanda’s work has received Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations. Some of his work has been translated into Serbian.
“the seasons . . .very unlike what they had formerly been”
“the most adverse to agriculture
which had ever been known”with
“No prospect of crops”
Some of the subsequent years would be almost as cold
And a few more people were now convinced
that smoke in the air could affect the weather
Michael Ceraolo is a 63-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had two full-length books (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press; 500 Cleveland Haiku, from Writing Knights Press) and has two more full-length books, Euclid Creek Book Two, and Lawyers, Guns, and Money, in the publication pipeline.
which we cannot understand its origins or reasons,
carried out by family, friends, even by ourselves.
We must also remember those, likewise unexpected,
that had brought happiness, joy, and well-being,
which, without better judgment, we accounted
as if had been natural and fully deserved ones.
Indeed, in the harvest we do every day,
we are used to abundance, sometimes to scarcity,
healthy fruits alongside some sick ones.
We should always take into account
that have not been only we who have planted
what we are now reaping.
It had been sowed by parents and grandparents,
also by everyone who preceded us.
Really, it is the heritage we must honor,
interdependent as we are, in our common,
beloved, sometimes so suffering human race.
Edilson Afonso Ferreira , 77 years, is a Brazilian poet who writes in English rather than in Portuguese. Widely published in selected international journals in print and online, he began writing at age 67, after retiring as a bank employee. Nominated for The Pushcart Prize 2017, his first Poetry Collection, Lonely Sailor, One Hundred Poems, was launched in London, in November of 2018. He is always updating his works at www.edilsonmeloferreira.com.
William Doreski has published three critical studies and several collections of poetry. His work has appeared in many print and online journals. He has taught at Emerson College, Goddard College, Boston University, and Keene State College. His most recent books are Water Music and Train to Providence. williamdoreski.blogspot.com
Gerard Sarnat won the Poetry in the Arts First Place Award plus the Dorfman Prize, and has been nominated for a handful of recent Pushcarts plus Best of the Net Awards. Gerry is widely published in academic-related journals (e.g., Universities of Chicago/ Maine/ San Francisco/Toronto, Stanford, Oberlin, Brown, Columbia, Harvard, Pomona, Johns Hopkins, Wesleyan, Penn, Dartmouth, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Baltimore) plus national (e.g., Gargoyle, Main Street Rag, New Delta Review, MiPOesias, American Journal Of Poetry, Parhelion, Clementine, pamplemousse, Red Wheelbarrow, Deluge, Poetry Quarterly, poetica, Tipton Journal, Hypnopomp, Free State Review, Poetry Circle, Buddhist Poetry Review, Poets And War, Thank You For Your Service Anthology, Wordpeace, Cliterature, Qommunicate, Indolent Books, Snapdragon, Pandemonium Press, Boston Literary Magazine, Montana Mouthful, Arkansas Review, Texas Review, San Antonio Review, Brooklyn Review, pacificREVIEW, San Francisco Magazine, The Los Angeles Review, Fiction Southeast and The New York Times) and international publications (e.g., Review Berlin, Voices Israel, Foreign Lit, New Ulster, Transnational, Southbank, Wellington Street Review). He’s authored the collections Homeless Chronicles: From Abraham to Burning Man (2010), Disputes (2012), 17s (2014), Melting the Ice King (2016). Gerry is a physician who’s built and staffed clinics for the marginalized as well as a Stanford professor and healthcare CEO. Currently he is devoting energy/ resources to deal with climate change justice. Gerry’s been married since 1969 with three kids plus six grandsons, and is looking forward to future granddaughters.
This is where all the beer in the world ends up, where Oscar-winning actors fallen on hard times congregate. This is where the guy you thought was your next door neighbor, maybe a distant cousin, turns out to be a closet billionaire. This is rock and roll subjugated by the tumbler, pulled out smooth, polished, ready for the sterile display case. This is the sanitized biopic that turns a racist into a paragon of inclusivity. This is Tabasco in place of gochujang, Kamchatka in place of Nic Cage. This is where the pipe diverts, heads off to sump straight into the sea.
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Red Coyote Review, Deep South Magazine, and Aromatica Poetica, among others.
Louis Faber’s work has previously appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Rattle, Eureka Literary Magazine, Borderlands: the Texas Poetry Review, Midnight Mind, Pearl, Midstream, European Judaism, Greens Magazine, The Amethyst Review, Afterthoughts, The South Carolina Review and Worcester Review, among many others, and he has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
nameless in a crowd at table six is the tableau of good people but will I remember them no sometimes a lady wears a red dress and it is the table cloth and you will not dirty your hands not with no one dancing one is dancing to these cliched songs and my only friend here knows it’s not about
me she’s the one getting married the bartender has my back offering me champagne pop this wine I consume and wonder about good decisions the groom’s dad made a speech about good decisions and personally I wonder if this is a good one he claims it is this marriage at least I have learned this
Mohammad Saif is currently working as a Visiting Faculty with Amity Institute of English Studies and Research, Amity University, and teaches English and Communication skills at undergraduate and postgraduate level. He earned Distinction in M.Phil. for his dissertation ‘A Study of Selected Narratives on the Tradition and Practice of Al-Hijama’. Driven by sheer alacrity and insatiable thirst for knowledge he seeks growth in the field of academia.
Bobbi Sinha-Morey’s poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain,The Wayfarer,Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia RisingReview, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at www.Amazon.com and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net in 2015, the Best of the Net 2018 Anthology Awards hosted by Sundress Publications, and the 2020 Best of the Net anthology. Her website is located at http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.
*What new prison will you exile me to? To what other silence
Am I being banished to?
*Children the color of my sadness playing in a cardboard house in front of the sea.
Sergio A. Ortiz is a retired, Educator, Bilingual-Gay PRican Poet, Human Rights Advocate. Pushcart nominee, Best of the Web, Best of the Net. He took 2nd place in the 2016 Ramón Ataz annual poetry competition, sponsored by Alaire Publishing House. He workshops his poetry in RatsAssReview workshop. Recent credits include Spanish audio poems in Parragon Press, South Florida Poetry Journal, RatsAssReview, The Maynard, and Spillwords. He is the Founder of Undertow Tanka Poetry Review now Undertow Poetry Review, La Resaca. His chapbook, Welcome To My Archipelago, will be published by Parragon Press.
As I survey the length and breadth of the bright hall
I feel a powerful energy
Body and mind suffused with bliss and delight.
As if I too am a giant.
I seem to understand their language.
They are exploring the mysteries of the universe.
The cities on a lot of planets
Peopled with their countless partners.
Their mind they use to manipulate the instrument
Also can to transfer data be used
Even thousands of miles apart
Also to talk free to the heart.
Many lines of text on the screen
Is but a message from afar.
The whole universe is their home.
They build cities in space.
They use the spaceships
To transport you to far-distant other spaces.
Into a lightning, a moment, and you
Vanish into thin air, without a trace.
I feel a new civilization.
They have magical eyes.
They seem to be able to see the future
And can enter diverse time-spaces.
Men and women are holy and loving
Superior to our world’s so-called love
They don’t seem to understand ageing
Neither do they know about war.
Time seems not to exist
Science is jut a wonderful art
Their happiness comes from the creation of
A universe full of divine love.
I saw a young giant
Opening the door of a platinum
A round, magnificent hall
Packed with rows of giant s of men and women.
I saw a crystal stage.
Gyrating at the center of the hall.
Where a dignified and beautiful girl
Was playing a huge musical instrument.
A bunch of golden rays,
Shifting with all kinds of brilliant graphics
A mysterious and beautiful music
Like the Dragon leisurely crowing.
Thence I saw an enormous giant
Jump out of the remarkable dance onto the stage.
His hands held a huge ball
Which flashed with many colourful drawing .
I saw a group of young girls
Wearing a kind of white dresses
They seemed to fly lightly
Like the giant cranes.
The huge circular hall was resplendent
With clear, transparent decoration.
Like a bizarre gem of a full set，
Scintillating brilliantly in the light.
I saw a young singer
About the golden flame
The sound was strange and striking
Like singing , like chanting too.
Their music is at once mysterious and blissful
That shift randomly like the lightning
As if many planets of the universe
Shining bright and light in space.
The crystal city, aloft in space
Looks resplendent, magnificent
Countless wonderful golden flowers
Bloom and blush in that flawless space.
I saw an image of a transparent smiling face,
As if it were a colourful garden
The sky shed the golden light
And turned it into a city of gold.
I strode out of the circular hall
Came to a wide street with a smooth
Pavement covered with precious stones
And in line with the platinum edifice.
There are no terrestrial trees here,
But they are in full bloom with a lot of exotic flowers.
Sparkling with rich incense,
Shaping a garden at the center of the street.
Some strange flowers were there.
The branches as transparent crystal
Flashing all kinds of brilliant colours;
And bunches of round golden fruit.
I saw a huge statue.
It was like a spaceship.
Clustered around by shining stars,
High above the centre of the street.
I saw the column of a dazzling fountain
In a huge circle in the square;
The elegantly modelled statues
Portraying the holy giants.
The soaring magnificent edifices
Ran round the circle square.
There were some garden villas
There was a platinum steeple.
I saw a wide river
Girdling this huge city
The bottom flashed with transparent gold dust,
Amidst which were scattered brilliant gems.
The planning of tall trees on shore
And a long crystal corridor
A big multi-coloured bird
Three five one group floated on the surface of the water.
I saw a vast forest
The swaying tree, a tree of gold
The trees with towering spires
And as some platinum Pavilion.
I saw some giants along the walk,
Some male and female bodybuilders.
At the water’s brink or in the forest
Like birds carefree and relaxed.
The wonderful space was as bright as crystal
Embraced this platinum city;
A giant, white and bright ball
Flashing boundless light into the air.
It resembled the huge suns
And like the man-made planets
The whole city was shining too,
Weaving a rare breed of magic.
A strange speeding train circled
About the city back and forth;
There seemed to be a kind of track in the sky
Like a shiny silver curve.
They seated body white buildings
As if it was a dreamlike maze
This huge city was unusually quiet,
Could not even hear the sound of the wind.
I bade goodbye to the platinum city.
Near a golden space
Stands another city here
A huge city of gold.
The building here is also huge.
But it’s another beautiful shape.
The whole city is glittering
Golden edifice as beautiful as sculpture.
Here there live some other giants.
As if from another nation
They have boundless wisdom.
Like a golden, holy civilization.
Manu Mangattu is an English Professor, poet, editor, director and rank-holder. He has published 7 books, 73 research articles and 36 conference papers apart from 14 edited volumes with ISBN. He serves as chief editor/editor for various international journals. He has done UGC funded projects and a SWAYAM-MOOC course (Rs 15 lakhs). Besides translations from Chinese and Sanskrit, he writes poetry in English as well as in Indian languages. He was named “Comrade to Poetry China” in 2016. A visiting faculty at various universities and a quintessential bohemian-vagabond, he conducts poetry readings, workshops and lectures when inspired. After an apprenticeship in Shakespeare under Dr Stephen Greenblatt, he currently guides 23 research scholars and mentors NET English aspirants.
白金城市
远红日
时间的五彩宝石啊
你铺成了光芒的天路
在一座星辰的王国
我找到了自己的家园
我打开一座座太阳的城门
在一座座黄金的城市
见到了一个个神圣的巨人
在那宝石镶嵌的皇宫
阅读了史前奇妙的诗篇
一部部古奥华丽的巨书
镌雕着黄金的词语
一篇篇玄奇美妙的故事
迷醉了我的双眼
我走进了一个个崭新的宇宙
看到了一座座圣洁的王国
在地球还没有诞生之前
曾经是人类的史前的家园
时空的水晶啊光芒闪耀
一座白金的城市矗立眼前
一只只飞船悠悠飘过
像一只只巨鸟五光十色
我看到一个个年轻的巨人
身体闪耀七彩的光环
他们的眼睛欢喜明亮
聚会在一座水晶的花园
他们唱着欢快的歌曲
跳着一种奇妙的舞蹈
一对对高大的少男少女
仿佛在庆贺盛大的节日
我看到一座圆形的巨厦
高高耸立在城市的上空
发出一道道白亮的闪电
高高地飞入宁静的太空
一座座通体白金的巨厦
构成了一个美妙的图案
整个城市是一个圆形
排列成一个精致的结构
我走进一座明亮的大厅
看到一排奇特的仪器
墙上悬挂巨大的屏幕
显映出一片金色的太空
一座座五光十色的城市
像一块块五彩晶莹的宝石
那些奇丽的高楼巨厦
胜过了人间幻想的神话
我看到一行行陌生的字母
在一面屏幕上匆匆闪过
几位年轻健壮的巨人
专注地观看变幻的图像
他们的神情宁静安然
两眼闪映智慧的光芒
穿着一种闪光的衣装
通体上下是一个整体
他们的身材异常高大
个个足有七米多高
男男女女容貌端庄
几乎没有年龄的区别
他们的皮肤洁白如雪
隐隐闪出亮丽的光泽
明亮的眼睛单纯如婴儿
又含着一种奇异的火焰
他们操纵神奇的仪器
变幻太空一幅幅图景
他们的语言简洁流畅
像钟磬一般悦耳动听
我端详这座明亮的大厅
感受到一种强大的能量
身心充满了幸福欢喜
自己也仿佛变成了巨人
我似乎听懂了他们的语言
他们在探索宇宙的奥秘
那一颗颗星球上的城市
住着他们无数个伙伴
他们用意念操纵仪器
也可以用意念传递信息
即使相距千里万里
也可以自由地用心交谈
那屏幕上的一行行文字
即是远方传来的信息
整个宇宙是他们的家园
他们在太空建造城市
他们乘坐的太空飞船
可以到达另外的空间
一瞬间化成一道闪电
在空中变得无影无踪
我感受到一种新的文明
他们长着神奇的眼睛
他们似乎能看到未来
也能进入不同的时空
男男女女都圣洁慈爱
胜过人间所谓的爱情
他们仿佛不懂得衰老
也不知道什么叫战争
时间仿佛并不存在
科学就是奇妙的艺术
他们的快乐来自创造
对宇宙充满神圣的感情
我看到一位年轻的巨人
打开了一座白金的大门
一座圆形的华丽的大厅
坐满了一排排男女巨人
我看到一座水晶的舞台
旋转在这座大厅的中央
一位端庄美丽的少女
演奏着一种巨型的乐器
一束一束金色的光芒
变幻出各种奇妙的图形
一种玄妙动人的音乐
仿佛是龙凤悠然的啼鸣
我看到一位健美的巨人
在台上跳出奇异的舞蹈
他手中托起巨大的圆球
球内闪耀着彩色的画图
我看到一队妙龄的女郎
穿着一种雪白的裙裳
他们仿佛在翩翩飞翔
像是一只只巨大的仙鹤
巨大的圆厅金碧辉煌
像水晶一般清澈透明
又像是嵌满奇异的宝石
闪耀出一种绚丽的光芒
我看到一位年轻的歌手
全身缭绕着金色的火焰
那声音奇特而又优美
像是歌唱又像是吟诵
他们的音乐欢喜玄妙
像一道道闪电变幻莫测
仿佛是宇宙的一颗颗星球
在太空中闪烁亮丽的光芒
又仿佛一座座水晶的城市
在空中矗立宏伟辉煌
无数奇妙的金色的花朵
开满了清澈晶莹的太空
我看到一张张透明的笑脸
仿佛是一座缤纷的花园
金色的光芒从天空洒下
化成了一座座黄金之城
我走出了这座圆形大厅
来到一条宽阔的街道
光洁的路面嵌满宝石
两旁林立白金的巨厦
在这儿没有人间的树木
却盛开各种奇异的花朵
浓郁芳香又闪闪发光
形成了一座座街心花园
这是一些奇特的花木
枝干透明仿佛水晶
闪烁各种奇妙的颜色
还有一串串金色的圆果
我看到一座巨大的塑像
仿佛一个太空飞船
高高地耸立在街头中心
周围闪耀一颗颗星球
我看到一柱柱晶莹的喷泉
在一座巨大的圆形广场
一座座造型优美的雕像
刻画出一个个圣洁的巨人
一座座巍峨壮丽的巨厦
环绕着这座圆形的广场
巨厦的上面是一些花园
还有一座座白金的尖塔
我看到一条宽广的河流
怀抱着这座巨大的城市
水底闪映出透明的金沙
还有一颗颗七彩的宝石
岸边排列高大的花木
和一条条水晶的长廊
一种色彩亮丽的大鸟
三五一群在水面飞翔
我看到一座广阔的树林
摇曳着一树树黄金的树叶
树林中耸立一座座尖塔
又仿佛一些白金的楼阁
我看到一些漫步的巨人
男男女女健美潇洒
或在水边或在林中
像鸟儿一般逍遥自在
奇妙的太空亮如水晶
怀抱着这座白金城市
一只一只白亮的巨球
在空中闪放无际的光明
仿佛是一颗颗巨大的太阳
又像是一颗颗人造的星球
整座城市也闪放光芒
形成一种神奇的景象
一种奇特的飞驰的列车
在城市上空回环往复
天空中仿佛有一种轨道
像一条银白闪亮的曲线
那一座座通体白亮的巨厦
仿佛是一座座神奇的迷宫
巨大的城市异常宁静
甚至听不到风儿的声音
我告别了这座白金城市
奔向了一片金色的太空
在这儿矗立另一座城市
一座巨大的黄金之城
这儿的建筑同样巨大
却是另一种美丽的造型
整座城市金光灿烂
黄金的巨厦美如雕塑
这儿生活着另一些巨人
仿佛来自另一个民族
他们拥有伟大的智慧
像黄金一般圣洁的文明
Yuan Hongri (born 1962) is a renowned Chinese mystic, poet, and philosopher. His work has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada, and Nigeria; his poems have appeared in Poet’s Espresso Review, Orbis, Tipton Poetry Journal, Harbinger Asylum, The Stray Branch, Acumen, Pinyon Review, Taj Mahal Review, Madswirl, Shot Glass Journal, Amethyst Review, Fine Lines, and other e-zines, anthologies, and journals. His best known works are“Platinum City”and “Golden Giant”. His works explore themes of prehistoric and future civilization.
On the leaves Of autumn season, They are colour Of your flesh.
On the leaves Of spring flowers, They will breathe Of your perfume.
On the leaves Of the notebook, They are lines With your name.
On the leaves Of life journey, Joy and tears Of one being.
On the leaves Of poetry book, Rebound and dark Are the themes.
On the leaves Of colorful mirror, Reflects your smile Against my request.
On the leaves Of blind eyed, Joys arises when Dreams become hopes.
Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad, Iraq. His work has appeared in print and online journals globally and has poems translated into several languages. He has been nominated for Best of the Net 2018. He is the author of The Bleeding Heart Poet, Love On The War’s Frontline, Gas Chamber, Wounds from Iraq, Roofs of Dreams, and The Grey Revolution. He lives in Montreal, Canada.
Charles Leggett is a professional actor based in Seattle, WA, USA. His poetry has been published in the US, the UK, Ireland, Australia, New Zealand and Canada. Recent/forthcoming publications include Sublevel, As Above So Below, Automatic Pilot, Volney Road Review, Ocotillo Review, and Heirlock Magazine.
Eliza Segiet is Jagiellonian University graduate with a Master’s Degree in Philosophy. She completed postgraduate studies in Cultural Knowledge, Philosophy, Penal Fiscal and Economic Law, and Creative Writing at Jagiellonian University, as well as Film and Television Production in Łódź. She has published three poetry collections and two monodramas.
When not writing poetry, Emalisa Rose enjoys crafting and birding. She volunteers in animal rescue. Living by a beach town, provides much of the inspiration for her art. Her latest collection is “On the whims of the crosscurrents,” published by Red Wolf Editions.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.
Ferris E Jonesis an award-winning, internationally published poet and screenwriter living in Puyallup Washington. His work has appeared in both print and online magazines, including as the featured poet for Creative Talents Unleashed. Other magazines include: Glo Mag, Piker Press, Se La Vie Writers Journal, Write on Magazine, Outlaw Poetry, Degenerate Literature 17, Tuck Magazine, The Literary Hatchet, Warriors with Wings, In Between Hangovers, and many other literary publications. He is the recipient of two grants from the Nevada Arts Council and the Editor and Publisher of Nevada Poets 2009. Ferris has twice received honorable mention awards from Writers Digest annual screenwriting contest. Ferris is also the Author / Editor of seven collections of poetry. You can learn more about Ferris E. Jones by visiting www.inquisitionpoetry.com where each month he features the work of other poets. The goal of this site is to spread the word of poetry throughout the world.
James G. Piatt is a Best of Web nominee and three time Pushcart nominee, has had four collections of poetry; “Solace Between the Lines,” “Light,” “Ancient Rhythms,” and “The Silent Pond,” as well as over 1480 poems, five novels and 35 short stories, published worldwide. He is now looking for a publisher for his fifth collection of poems which he has just completed. He earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, and his doctorate from BYU
Kelli J Gavin lives in Carver, Minnesota with Josh, her husband of an obscene amount of years and they have two crazy kids. She is a Writer, Professional Organizer and owns Home & Life Organization and a small Jewelry Company. Look for Kelli’s first book of short stories and poems in 2019. You can find her work with The Ugly Writers, Sweatpants & Coffee, Writing In a Woman’s Voice among others. Find Kelli on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram@KelliJGavin Blog found at kellijgavin.blogspot.com
Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Crossroads Magazine, Kendra Steiner Editions, and Setu Magazine.
when I sit and eat the paper to stop that friend from pushing
the calm name of the wind
whiting up the bread was a new earth on a pole
on the corner was a bull and he was a busy bull
well he had a meltdown
fool of the world walked up and ate the sun
it was saucer night and he ate the moon too
J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words and sound in his subterranean laboratory. More than 1,500 of his poems have appeared in many small press publications, in print and online. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). Visit www.MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Throats to the Sky, FEED, and Sublunary Review, among others.
and the lonely hearts who wander a little bit slower
she dwells in Debussy
and Beethoven
tell me
what’s your vision
is your twist to paint the moon
psychedelic pink with
mushrooms protruding and a cynical smirk
is it the moon with bodily fluids smeared
and declared art
is your twist
the moon renamed something less tender
or tell me
is your aim
to paint clouds over the moon?
because it’s easier to take away, than to add
and you can play with your beret
without missing a beat
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His story, “Soon,” was nominated for a Pushcart. A native of Idaho, Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in The Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, Write City Magazine, and Ariel Chart, among others.
Wayne Russell is or has been many things during his time on this planet, he has been a creative writer, world traveler, graphic designer, former soldier, and former sailor. Wayne has been widely published in both online and hard copy creative writing magazines. From 2016-17 he also founded and edited Degenerate Literature. In 2018, the kind editors at Ariel Chart have nominated Wayne for his first Pushcart Prize for the poem Stranger in a Strange Town. Earlier in 2020, Wayne was nominated for his first Best of the Net. Where Angels Fear is his debut paperback published by Guerrilla Genesis Press.
a pulchritudinous sonnet according to Paweł Markiewicz
I am through a superb window – looking.
An angel of feeling awakes in me.
The dreamy oak-trees stand alway leafless.
The native auspicious cue is just large.
My scenery – the enchanted verdure.
The moony old barn of Ted my dear nuncle.
I am looking at a proud throng of crows.
They belong to the whiff of every times.
The springtide looks so meek-beauteous-fair,
first and foremost Morningstar – at night.
I daydream springwards window-view withal
of a dreamy Ovidian summer gale.
Homelike herbage that seems to bewitch all.
My cats want to enchant the fantasy.
Dreamed subtle morn withal notably.
………………………….
gale – archaic: wind
alway – archaic: always
cue – archaic: mood
verdure – green
nuncle – archaic: uncle
throng – archaic: bevy
Paweł Markiewicz was born 1983 in Siemiatycze in Poland. He is poet who lives in Bielsk Podlaski and writes tender poems, haiku as well as long poems. Paweł has published his poetries in many magazines. He writes in English and German.
As the Philistines plagued with tumours panicked and returned the Ark of the Covenant to the Israelites that they may not be further punished, fearful of the God of unknown power belonging to their foe, I turn to you but with the most part fear removed from mind. If I return your heart, would you box it up and save it for a more worthy suitor than I, one who may ripen your days, one who is a moulter of clothes in the hunger of night, pulling you nearer whilst winter sleeps; leaving you illuminating, widely grinning when the weather is. I only ask that you please not tell me who he is nor how he does it.
Joel Schueler’s work appears in over ten countries in over fifty publications including Pennsylvania Literary Journal, London Poetry Magazine & The Brasilia Review. From London, he has a BA(Hons) in English Literature & Creative Writing from the University of Wales, Aberystwyth.
delicately, into golden chips, and dusted yellow corn.
Michael Lee Johnson lived 10 years in Canada during the Vietnam era and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, amateur photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, DuPage County, Illinois. Mr. Johnson published in more than 1072 new publications, his poems have appeared in 39 countries, he edits, publishes 10 poetry sites. Michael Lee Johnson, has been nominated for 2 Pushcart Prize awards poetry 2015/1 Best of the Net 2016/2 Best of the Net 2017, 2 Best of the Net 2018. 210 poetry videos are now on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos. Editor-in-chief poetry anthology, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530456762; editor-in-chief poetry anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses available here https://www.amazon.com/dp/1545352089. Editor-in-chief Warriors with Wings: The Best in Contemporary Poetry, http://www.amazon.com/dp/1722130717.
William Doreski has published three critical studies and several collections of poetry. His work has appeared in many print and online journals. He has taught at Emerson College, Goddard College, Boston University, and Keene State College. His most recent books are Water Music and Train to Providence. williamdoreski.blogspot.com
DS Maolalai has been nominated four times for Best of the Net and three times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019)
Gerard Sarnat won the Poetry in the Arts First Place Award plus the Dorfman Prize, and has been nominated for a handful of recent Pushcarts plus Best of the Net Awards. Gerry is widely published in academic-related journals (e.g., Universities of Chicago/ Maine/ San Francisco/Toronto, Stanford, Oberlin, Brown, Columbia, Harvard, Pomona, Johns Hopkins, Wesleyan, Penn, Dartmouth, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Baltimore) plus national (e.g., Gargoyle, Main Street Rag, New Delta Review, MiPOesias, American Journal Of Poetry, Parhelion, Clementine, pamplemousse, Red Wheelbarrow, Deluge, Poetry Quarterly, poetica, Tipton Journal, Hypnopomp, Free State Review, Poetry Circle, Buddhist Poetry Review, Poets And War, Thank You For Your Service Anthology, Wordpeace, Cliterature, Qommunicate, Indolent Books, Snapdragon, Pandemonium Press, Boston Literary Magazine, Montana Mouthful, Arkansas Review, Texas Review, San Antonio Review, Brooklyn Review, pacificREVIEW, San Francisco Magazine, The Los Angeles Review, Fiction Southeast and The New York Times) and international publications (e.g., Review Berlin, Voices Israel, Foreign Lit, New Ulster, Transnational, Southbank, Wellington Street Review). He’s authored the collections Homeless Chronicles: From Abraham to Burning Man (2010), Disputes (2012), 17s (2014), Melting the Ice King (2016). Gerry is a physician who’s built and staffed clinics for the marginalized as well as a Stanford professor and healthcare CEO. Currently he is devoting energy/ resources to deal with climate change justice. Gerry’s been married since 1969 with three kids plus six grandsons, and is looking forward to future granddaughters.
Travel brings out strange combinations for the sake of space, all improvised, my oxblood loafers sit on top of t-shirts, rolled up socks sit inside my boxer briefs, and toiletries are nestled in breast pockets.
I have worn each of these items down until they became personal talismans for me, mass manufactured in their common origins, some are mirrors of love and friendship, reflecting the feelings of those behind the gifts
Packing my bag it is hard not to reminisce, I think of trips to the shoe store and then the ordeal to get my razor, which links me to my first razor, even though it is gone and nowhere to be found inside the luggage.
There is time before I begin the jaunt of switching trains, enough to open up the bag, I take a census, surprised how hard it is to remember if I have forgotten anything, here is my past, I take it where I need to go.
Ben Nardolilli currently lives in New York City. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, The Northampton Review, Local Train Magazine, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is trying to publish a novel.
PPP Ezine 