Home Poetry - Year IV - Number 22 - March 2019

Poetry - Year IV - Number 22 - March 2019

    TRANSFORMATION by Stephanie V Sears

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    TRANSFORMATIONby Stephanie V Sears The shadow of a storm I advise you to sit still at this timecat-like patient but alerta secret even to yourselfserved hand and foot by mystery. Something refreshing is hereas green as an...

    THE SEASON OF THE PARASITES by Slade Woodward

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    THE SEASON OF THE PARASITESby Slade Woodward “Untitled” I can see the neon sandglow with every step taken.The ground pulseswith music unheard,with time unfocused. Spectacles brimming with salt.Spectacles brimmingwith salt. Vibrancy in a dance acrossthe moonlight, a shakenturn...

    A STRANGER WITHIN by Ruby Nambo

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    A STRANGER WITHINby Ruby Nambo A Stranger Within That’s her: sitting by the green grass.She looks so beautiful,With her long black hair.Her figure isn’t perfect unlike most womenBut you can tell she is worth more than...

    THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODS by Abigail George

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    THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODSby Abigail George Drowning while standing at the water’s edge(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)     Leave the light on. Let it overflow thisroom. I want joy to fill my mouth.Somebody leave...

    THE BEAUTIFUL DAY by Karen Schnurstein

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    THE BEAUTIFUL DAYby Karen Schnurstein Invitation to the Man I LoveAfter Elizabeth Bishop’s “Invitation to Miss Marianne Moore” From that formidable historic downtown building of yours, up from within its city of dark bricks,            please come to...

    MR. WONDERFUL by Jack Brown

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    MR. WONDERFULby Jack Brown THE RHYTHM OF TIME This is the hour of the cat.One with the night.On the street.Air parted as she wasgliding in through lamplightbetween cars over curbs.Flexing on paw pads.Claws gripping concrete.Grey sidewalk...

    THE WATER BUG by Luba Ostashevsky

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    THE WATER BUGby Luba Ostashevsky   The Water bugA large water bug lay at the entrance to the kitchen.Its tentacles pointed up.The sloped roof of its home was a boat run aground on the cold tan...

    GOING, GONE by Doug Bolling

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    GOING, GONEby Doug Bolling          Terret 9 The spillage of itold news creeping, creeping. The cat face of time,the hours before,behind. A hundred sermonsbundled, put to restbehind the fridge. You go it alone,sojourner on a missiontoward shadowland. You take of...

    A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS by Daniel Miess

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    A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESSby Daniel Miess A Voice in the Wilderness This silence in me is vast; notan abyss; empty yet not empty. A river dispenses through the ravine,carving my name in the rock. On a winding,...

    MY MAMA’S WALTZ by Timothy Pilgrim

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    MY MAMA'S WALTZBy Timothy Pilgrim My mama’s waltz(with a nod to Theodore Roethke) The perfume on your dresscould drive a young boy crazy —dark lust, secret untold since —our nightly ritual, flow and bend. We whirled from...