Home Poetry - Year II - Number 7 - Volume I - June 2017

Poetry - Year II - Number 7 - Volume I - June 2017

    TO MY MOTHER’S FRIEND – By Leilani Ahia

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    TO MY MOTHER'S FRIENDBy Leilani Ahia To My Mother's Friend Let me tell you of the walkyou missed this eveningbecause you did not care for wetand...

    TIMES – By Anwer Ghani

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    LITERARY CONTESTSFICTIONNONFICTIONPOETRYHAPPENINGSBOOK REVIEWSINTERVIEWSNEW TITLESART & PHOTOGRAPHYADELAIDE Independent Quarterly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Trimestral, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition            TIMESBy Anwer Ghani The SunsetMy hand is so hot like the soul of the...

    DOWNPOUR – By Bruce McRae

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    DOWNPOURBy Bruce McRae Downpour A heavy rain falling over Lithium Island,the roads flooded with tears of the disenfranchised,the quarry a lake of grief and woes,the tavern’s...

    AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCO – By Anne Babson

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    AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCOBy Anne Babson The gate guard greeted me “pronto,” not “buongiorno,”As if I were afar off phoning, but there IStood, ecce homo.  Years, this artist...

    SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIES

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    SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIESBy Shirley Jones-Luke  Simple Pleasures Elude Me like Fireflies Joy flits away in the moonlight,solitude is the crystal tears of starsdropping...

    AS OF NOW – By Jim Hanlen

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    AS OF NOWPoems by Jim Hanlen As of Now I've just gotten used to wherethe creek and stone belong.They found their place a long time ago.

    THE MAN-UNKIND BLUES #1 – By Henry Reneau

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    THE MAN-UNKIND BLUES #1By Henry Reneau      Anne Waldman If you turn the Goddess to stone, don't be surprisedif she doesn't bleed.                                                                                 —Andrea Potts

    TOURNÉE DU CHAT NOIR – By Susan Cossette

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    TOURNÉE DU CHAT NOIRBy Susan Cossette Tournée du Chat Noir It is a suitable night for lost souls.The Swiss Guard, clad head to toe in goldLead...

    LULLABY ON WEST 133rd – By Laurel Kaye

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    LULLABY ON WEST 133rdBy Laurel Kaye Lullaby on West 133rd The plane collides and you arriveto murmurs of hyphenated welcomein the halls of terminal 4There was...

    THANKSGIVING – By Obi Nwakanma

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    THANKSGIVINGBy Obi Nwakanma Thanksgiving It is the seventh month, and theUvene fruits are ripe again  -The wild berries, plump with juice;The breadfruit, and the gourds are...