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

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

    FACES OF LOVE – By Faleeha Hassan

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    FACES OF LOVEBy Faleeha Hassan Faces of love  Do not carry me in your handLike a small bird wet with rain dropsLove is a traumatic experienceBut I want to live itTo keep my windows overlooking the...

    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 contributed As dues a painting.   He lived...

    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 full, heavyLike the pregnant women of this landAbout to give,...

    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 coldand the land's natural state.I ventured intoSomethingthat was not salty...

    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 in clouds that shift restlesslyabove a dark world, I feel...

    MORAL ORAL – By Zach Trebino

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    MORAL ORALBy Zach Trebino death’s mouth one morning, we wake in a coiled embrace, dead.i don’t know how i even know this. after years inthat now-rotten mattress, our vertebrae have fusedand risen in a skeletal trunk....

    LIKE WIND – By Ed Hack

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    LIKE WINDBy Ed Hack Weather In America The lightning didn't stop. An hour or moreit lit the reddish sky at 3amas rain slashed down in waves, terrific pourthat drenched the screens, as if it couldn't end,and...

    FATHER AND SON – By Richard Pacheco

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    FATHER AND SONBy Richard Pacheco Father and SonMy father waited for meit took 21 years of tryingthree doctors proclaimedmy mother would never have childrenthen she arrived at menopauseand oops at last I was thereand the...

    WRITING FOR STRANGERS – By Olaf Dammann

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    WRITING FOR STRANGERSBy Olaf  Dammann 1where do storks comefrom? if nothing else,tender enchantrix, whereis your self, yourbones are wrapped insilver linings, thatevery cloud musthave, like ends oftunnels musthave light2strangers, idealcompanions ontrips to the uncertainif the...

    CAPRICCIO – By Maureen Eppstein

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    CAPRICCIOBy Maureen Eppstein  Capricciofor no reasonIl capro, the goat on the hillsudden, unpredictable change, as of one's mindhip-hobble, hip-hobblesomersaultscartwheelssunlight on white daisieson the verge of a city street, a dusty sunflowera garden planted with whirligigsamethyst...