PPP Ezine PoetrypoeticspleasureEzine Volume 4; Issue 2; February 2020



Poet of the Month: Jim Piatt

Poem by Lynn Long

Forget-Me-Not by Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein

Poetica Couture by Jennifer Bradpiece

Winged visitors by Sunil Sharma

I Am Human by Ahmad Al-Khatat

The Union in Hindsight by Wayne Russell

The Curtains Pulled over like a Failed State by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

July by Joan McNerney

Morning Escapade by Joanne Olivieri

On Time by Kelli J Gavin


Poet of the Month: Jim Piatt


Too Late


Arriving too late

The sun covered with a gray haze

Met the screaming hour


My glass nerves shattered

In the jangle of broken

Poems of hopelessness


And died for lack of

Sweet rhyming allegories

Buried too deeply in my soul.




The Final Curtain


When the final curtain is drawn,

And my existence unfolds into eternity,

I breathe a final breath, and

The things I savored in my life,

The multitude of happy times,

Fade into winter’s white coldness:

But as the light drips from the sun

Into the horizon’s endless fire, and

My short time on this planet is gone.

Memories continue in others even as

The reflexes known as my life, expire…




Poor Decisions



Promises, discarded, broken, lie beside

Dusty laws of the past, trampled

Under the grime of ideology: Hopes,

Shattered, lives thrown into the pit of

Indifference born of greed…ignorance,

Untried principles: Compassion wilting

In the darkness of shattered dreams,

Kindness melted into fiscal indifference

Of our time, all under the weight of

Poor decisions.





Der Nicht-Nietzsche-Mann



He is the non-Nietzsche man

A feeling amorphous shape in the

World of fiscal nothingness…a

Caring mind in the world of insensitivity,

Lost in un-noted worthiness…


He is the non-Nietzsche man

A gentle soul among the

Multitude of avaricious plastic people…

A man of integrity, honest and sane,

A petal to a sepal…


He is the non-Nietzsche man

A thinking mind in the

Torpid emptiness of man’s banality…

A man of truth and virtue, filled with

Intelligence without cupidity…


He is the non-Nietzsche man

And like Nietzsche’s god…

He too is dead…





James is the author of four collections of poems, “Solace Between the Lines,” (2019), “Light” (2016), “Ancient Rhythms,” (2014),” and “The Silent Pond,” (2012). He has had over 1,400 poems, four novels, seven essays, and thirty-five short stories published in over 200 different national and international, books, anthologies, and magazines, including Penwood. He earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, and his doctorate from BYU. A review of his newest collection of poems, “Solace Between the Lines,” can be found on Cyberwit.com.




Poem by Lynn Long


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Lynn Long- https://zolanymph1.blogspot.com/. Poet, writer, aspiring novelist, daydreamer and believer in the impossible. Artist @hitRECord.org and Scriggler.com. Published in the following Ezines, Publications and Online Journals:

 https://academyoftheheartandmind.wordpress.com/ Antarctica Journal, Duane’s PoeTree and In Between Hangovers etc.



Forget-Me-Not by Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein


I am the blue flower in the garden of Eden,

Once God came and walking by.

He looked pondering in thoughts,

Suddenly He saw me, and asked,

“Oh little beauty! What’s your name?

Struck by his presence, I forgot my name.

I murmured.

He smiled. “Oh pretty little thing! I name you Forget-Me-Not

And you shall be now reside on Earth, as long as the creation will exsist”.

I wanted to say out loud that I don’t want to go.

What a dreadful place.

But my inner words came back as echo.

Since then I keep saying to God, forget me not

Take me back to your Eden.

There is no reply from God.

So I wait and wait.

In between, I smile at love couples passing by,

And whisper gently, Forget-Me-Not.

They give me to one another with promises to remember each other till eternity.

Some are kept, some are broken and some become bitter and sour.

And I remain as witness of the countless promises.

But, I keep my promise to myself to not to forget me not.

My true identity.

That I came from Eden.

And I keep saying, Forget-Me-Not,

Take me back to Eden.

I can’t take the more and more pretentious promises in the name of me.

I am tired of watching hypocrisy in love.

But I must not forget me not,

I came from Eden

With all that holds holy and sacred.

Oh fake lovers, don’t violate my name.

Stop your deceiving.

Forget-Me-Not, that I am from Eden.

I continue to not to forget myself.

I sing my song and wait.

Alas! I am destined to stay here,

And I fear.

I fear, with all false promises in my name,

I will forget myself.

I will loose my name,

The name given to me by God.

People will soon call me,

“Forget Me” Flower.

I see the day, It is near.

And now I sing for myself

Forget-Me-Not, Forget-Me-Not,

Once I symbolized, love, loyalty and promise.

And Longing to go back to Eden.

So I keep saying Forget-Me-Not,

And I wait and wait.

And my waiting goes on.




Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein is an aesthete from Dhaka, Bangladesh & MA holder in British&American Literature.Now a Free-lance writer . She writes weekly column featuring humanitarian to diverse issues. Her poems appeared in literary magazines.  She loves travelling and participates in recitals.Her hobby is making DIY  jewellery for near and dear ones.  She seeks beauty from the blade of grass to twinkling stars. Aestheticism and humanism  are the essence of her existence. She can be reached at tts.hussein@gmail.com




Poetica Couture by Jennifer Bradpiece



Its that hot bath sink

into brain suds.


That half past two AM



That trying on,

ripping off.

Trading buttons

for boning.


And in the end,



Hoping some piece of you


some part of them.





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 RedactionsThe 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.




Winged visitors by Sunil Sharma



Red-vented bulbul


joined by another


a noisy pair


dark and handsome.




Swinging on the cable


delighting the home-alone






their crested heads


kissed by the rough winds of summer






waiting for the rains


to arrive on the Mumbai skyline.




Sunil Sharma is Mumbai-based senior academic, critic, literary editor and author with 19 published books: Six collections of poetry; two of short fiction; one novel; a critical study of the novel, and, eight joint anthologies on prose, poetry and criticism, and, one joint poetry collection. He is a recipient of the UK-based Destiny Poets’ inaugural Poet of the Year award—2012. His poems were published in the prestigious UN project: Happiness: The Delight-Tree: An Anthology of Contemporary International Poetry, in the year 2015. Sunil edits the English section of the monthly bilingual journal Setu published from Pittsburgh, USA:  http://www.setumag.com/p/setu-home.html For more details, please visit the blog: http://www.drsunilsharma.blogspot.in/.


It is Blind, It is Deserved and It is Denied by Alexis Ogunmokun


I am the reason
Why the court system exists
Superheroes live by my code
She wears a blindfold
While holding a sword in one hand
And a balance scales in the other hand
I am the reason

Why the bad guys are
In prisons or on death row
I am the opposite of injustice
Who am I?



Alexis Ogunmokun resides in Bloomington-Normal, Illinois. She works at Hy-Vee. She writes poetry and short fiction. She is an introvert with a dream to publish her poems. She has one brother and one sister. She loves to live life to the fullest. 



I Am Human by Ahmad Al-Khatat


I am human
from all races
I am looking
for respect,
and good

I am human
dancing with
no silky touch
but on my own
for no reason
am trying to
live like a human

My name is
human being
My age is the
numbers of
days of the
dead fighter
My soul is
already taken

Another human
I once met her;
she is the reason
why the night is
sad, no matter
what I do aside
from writing a
poem or a song

Can someone
walk me home
I am blind to
trust strangers
I am a silent
human listening
to dreamers talking
to machine believers



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.



The Union in Hindsight by Wayne Russell


Shimmering skull, trodden down
the impervious path, I was happy
before I met you, now damned
that we have parted company.

My life was spent in exile, you would
have gladly destroyed me, naked upon
the lovers cross, given half the chance.

The word love never existed, it was a
facade on all sides of the fence, barbed
and harsh like a nuclear funeral.

I forced all those smiles in those grainy
snapshots, those damned family functions,
your tribe of self-righteous hypocrites,
of the martyred and pure.

I had to make light of my transitions,
over the past twenty years, the prison
cell reeked of the terror of our loneliness.

Rivers of translucent tears, self-pollinated
mirrors of scorching bay wilderness, I was
always at fault and always drunk, that neurosis
almost killed me; like father like mother, dead
in their pickled coffins, brains petrified, souls
frozen, mummified.



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.



The Curtains Pulled over like a Failed State by Ryan Quinn Flanagan


You will not see me for a full trimester,

my water has broken so that I am left with

a leaky faucet for a kitchen, that slow plodding way

treachery soaks through everything, the curtains

pulled over like a failed state, summary executions

in the bedroom, a simple black blindfold over the eyes

like the power gone out, bodies limp against the wall

when all the rest has left; rumours of a coup, that’s

what I hear anyways, the nails get together and imagine

themselves hammers so that the hammer comes down

to remind them, this is wild speculation of course,

the government mouthpiece is tonguing the roof

of its own mouth and pronouncing strange brutal loves,

my bedsheets are a lake of disguises, the outside world

just someone else’s fun house; the graves so fresh

you’d think they came from a farmer’s market

and the intelligence services devoid of all intelligence

so that the baton becomes the shower water

and the whipping boy forgets to scream.




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.

July by Joan McNerney



The sun is a giant beach ball.

See it splashing through

waves all red violet blue.


Waters creep over my feet.

Should I stand shivering

or go swim?  Lose my footprint?


Off I run, falling over myself,

a mug of salty cider.  This

wave an insecure bed.  Seaweed

pillow.  Carried by moon to

an abyss.


The floor of my mansion is

not tidy. I shall have sponges

for lunch.  Ride with seahorses



On the far shore, my lover

smiles, kiss of surf.




Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary zines such as Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Blueline, Halcyon Days and included in Bright Hills Press, Kind of A Hurricane Press and Poppy Road Review anthologies. She has been nominated four times for Best of the Net.

Morning Escapade by Joanne Olivieri




Behind fog

the sea plays hide n seek

where sea meets land


our bodies touch

in sweet passion

Gentle breeze

warm kisses

delicately caress

our morning escapade.





Joanne has been writing for 50 years. She is a published poet and photographer. Her works have appeared in numerous in print and onlinepublications 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 HongKong in 2007 by Cathay Pacific Airways for her winning entry in their poetry contest. Joanne is the founder and editor of StanzaicStylings Literary Ezine.


Joanne enjoys reading, writing, collecting old poetry books, live music concerts, roaming art galleries and museums, leisurely lunches withfriends 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/blogat http://poeticshutterbug.blogspot.com



On Time by Kelli J Gavin



Thank you for being you

For arriving in my life

Not a moment too soon

But right on time

For loving me right

For encouraging me always

For inspiring me each day

Thank you for paying attention

For being dependable

For always being right on time




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, The Writers Newsletter,  Writer’s Unite!, Academy of the Heart and Mind, The Rye Whiskey Review, Spillwords, Mercurial Stories, 121 Words, Hickory Stump, Rabid Oak, HerStry, Ariel Chart, The Basil O’Flaherty, PPP Ezine, Southwest Media, Otherwise Engaged, Pleather Skin, Paper.Li, The New Ink Review, and among others. Find Kelli on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @KelliJGavin   Blog found at kellijgavin.blogspot.com