Home Poetry - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

Poetry - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

    MIND OF A BOY by Jhier Wells

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    MIND OF A BOYBy Jhier Wells Mind of a Boy When I was a boysummers were waves waitingto carry me to the ocean’s center.When I was a boysummers were trees stretching outits limbs for me to...

    POKHARA, THE CITY OF ANGELS by Bikal Paudel

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    POKARA, THE CITY OF ANGELSBy Bikal Paudel Hour Hand’s Message to a friend Dear minute hand, I wait for you for an hourAnd you leave in a minuteMaking me wait another 59Till we are again alignedWe both...

    LITTLE BLACK BOY by Daniel Jackson

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    LITTLE BLACK BOYBy Daniel Jackson LITTLE BLACK BOY       after William Blake As a stubborn child my father hit me,his hand glistening black as AfroSheen came down like coal-tarand dyed me blue as a Nelly Queen,because I sparkled, I...

    REEDUCATION CAMP by Michael Anthony Istvan Jr.

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    REEDUCATION CAMPBy Michael Anthony Istvan Jr. Reeducation Camp a necktie around your neck brace becoming the object of a dare the executioner’s daily practiceof axe swings, aware that he can becalled upon anytime the executioner’s daily practice with the...

    REFLECTIONS ON TIES THAT BIND by Jan Little

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    REFLECTIONS ON TIES THAT BINDBy Jan Little If marriage offered a narrow tether like Denmark’s attachment to Europe,I could have conformed that much to a husband’s wantsAnd gladly given all that connected me to him...

    THE NAMELESS by Lisa Zaran

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    THE NAMELESSBy Lisa Zaran The NamelessWho are we but immigrants too.Who are we but a lost Country.Who are we but tin blind, partially broken,desperado’s too are we not.Who are we but homelesswith our pawnshop belongings,our...

    PROLONGING by William Snyder

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    PROLONGINGBy William Snyder    PROLONGINGShe told me towait a little while.I said okay,I’ll wait outside.Ry Cooder, JoniMitchell, somebodyin Chains—they play and play.I slept last nightin the hollow comfortof the downstairs couch.Alone.I asked herto come too,but she...

    AMERICA by Ken W. Simpson

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    AMERICABy Ken W. Simpson File number thirty-eight America The land of the freea paradoxwhere hypocriteswithout ethicsor moral principlesembraced by hateare programmedto cheat the peopledestabilisedemocratically electednationsinstall dictatorspersecute and terrorise.

    HIS HAND by Amelia Abdullah

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    HIS HANDBy Amelia Abdullah   Dear mama,MamaThe first word of love to ever leave my lipsThe strongest name to call a womanThe hardest job to take onThe mightiest soldier to ever walk the planetThe most beautiful...

    REFLECTION by Louise Lever

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    REFLECTIONBy Louise Lever Reflection The blended-up shocking-pink skinsOf a handful of frozen cranberries from the USA mixedWith a frozen skinless banana driesOn the sides of my empty smoothie glass. The Milk looks like sea foam, only it...