Home Poetry - Year VII - Number 51 - August 2021

Poetry - Year VII - Number 51 - August 2021

    NEAP SONG by Daniel King

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    Alnitak Kalki will come. Hundreds of years must pass.Kalki will come. We wait. Trapped we crave our son The far stars callLocked in local space Those...

    TO OUTLAST by Michele Parker Randall

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    To Outlast The last cigarette clutched at my fingers, stretchedmy lungs, and drew smoke into me, hide-n-seek- style. It’s been a while; my doctors tell me...

    I PRETEND NOT TO LOVE YOU by Viviana Viviani, Translated by Giuliana Barile, Angela...

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    . Fingo di non amarti by Viviana Viviani Fingo di non amartirispondo tarditi faccio aspettaremi sento scaltrase sbaglio appostail nome dell’altramostro indifferenzadistrazione e assenzadico: “stiamo insiemefinché...

    AWE by Bernadette Dickenson

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    Gilded words spill from her lips caressing me beckoning me to immerse myself in her pain I have no choice already I am swimming upstream with her sinking beneath...

    CREATE A PLAYLIST FOR THE PERSON YOU USED TO BE by Jess Burnquist

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    Create a Playlist for the Person You Used to Be It’s important to do this aloneon a partially cloudy day whennostalgia seeps its lightthough blinds in thinslices of bright...

    THE HUMAN PERSONIFIED by Michael L. Correia

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    THE HUMAN PERSONIFIED I stand meditatingAt the knotOn my Kentucky cherry wood antique tableCirca Andy JacksonIt looked like the image of an elderlyAmerican statesman of that dayHe sports darkened...

    EQUUS by Fara Spence

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    Equus. We called him Equus, a black horse bucking inside a desert corral because he wouldn’t be broken. He was still feral, they said. Stubborn as a mule. Later...

    I WILL BE YOUR HERO by April McDermott

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    "I Will Be Your Hero"Fate gives us all pieces to make a puzzle of our life,They show us our love, our happiness, our strife.I had enough pieces for my own work of...

    TOWN PICNIC by John Grey

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    TOWN PICNIC Stomachs full,time for softball,maybe a splash in the lake,or a wander through the stallswith beer in hand,checking out the artefacts,the honey made by local bees,the fudge.

    THE PAIN OF WINTER by Douglas Polk

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    The Pain of Winter The tips of fingers numb with cold,Pin-pricks, sharp,The pain, bone chilling,Thoughts of boyhood, walking the tree breaks,Hoping to shoot a pheasant, or duck off the...