Home Poetry - Year III - Number 12 - April 2018

Poetry - Year III - Number 12 - April 2018

    FREEDOM by Razmik Grigoryan, translated by Maro Ghukasyan

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    FREEDOM by Razmik Grigoryan, translated by  Maro Ghukasyan  When I understood                                                                   that the start of triumph                                                             is made on defeat,I let you goon the last day ofmy...

    THE WAR’S SON by Anwer Ghani

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    THE WAR'S SONby Anwer Ghani The War ’s Son The soldiers have returned but the capitals of my chants are still whizzing like a slim mosquito...

    SOMETHING BLUE by Heather Lee Rogers

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        SOMETHING BLUEby Heather Lee Rogers    Nuclear Fission You see our lovewas just good chemistrythose first date cocktails ofraw pheromonesand evolutionary drive,despite your egowe are not divinejust well-dressed test tubesmixing atomsand hot moleculesso when our...

    ESPERANZA by Manuel Madera

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    ESPERANZAby Manuel Madera A Follower OF Desolation There is not muchI do when I thinkOf the birchesResting in the woods. Once in a...

    BLUES BUSKER by John Sweeder

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    BLUES BUSKERby John Sweeder  Blues Busker The young mancradles his harmonicawith cupped handscaressing it with his soul,coaxing emotionfrom its compact formas poets do with pens.

    THERE WAS TIME by Dean Baltesson

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    THERE WAS TIMEBy Dean Baltesson There Was Time There was a timewhen time was in store for uswe discovered a summerand we wanted lovewanted so much...

    JOSIE by Sahina Jerome

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    JOSIEby Sahina Jerome JosieThe days, months leading up to her death anniversaryis like being punchedin the lungs.You're gasping for breath.You're grasping for something that will ever beunreachable.The day of...

    EXPLORER by Fabrice Poussin

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    EXPLORERby Fabrice Poussin Explorer A soul floats gently below the thin surfaceof pearly satin to find its way through a networkof highways to life animated with...

    SUPER-8 by Timothy B. Muren

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       SUPER-8by Timothy B. Muren   Super-8Your grave, Phil Silver, should be here,Philip’s Fill-Up—Gas and Gro.  Hilarious, bro.filled up with bones like a new Christian, like a new Big-Wheel coasting to dirt, downsteep on plastic, breaking...

    WINTER by Craig Kennedy

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    WINTERby Craig Kennedy Night music The gold streetlamp sheds itsbrilliant hysteriapushing sour sunshine to inifinitedistancesuncharted by the small men in the streetunappreciated by the grapefruit moon.