Poetry - Year IV - Number 23 - April 2019

FRACTIONSby Anya Lofamia bodies and becoming who chose this face for me : is this mine?there is some strangeness in being bornto a body of a twenty-six-year-old human being.what happened to me? he thought. it was no...

OPEN BOOKby Dominique Williams The Consequences of a Dream A bitter truth wrapped in translucenceA fervent hope dashed upon consciousnessA trip to UtopiaA descent into Hell Memories revealed as an abandoned home;It’s paint and wallpaper peeling off...

Selections fromCALL ME ISHMAEL’S APPRENTICEby Eileen Flaxman Certaintyis thy savior.In this storm–tossed,tumultuous world,with death to our leftand our right,we look to TheeWho never waversWhose word is law andWhose punishment is swift.I am adrift when in...

GRANITEby Elizabeth Spragins Granite a stream of pebblestrickles down the fractured face—rivulets of raintug an acorn from its tombdeep within the wrinkled rocks ~Mount Desert Island, Maine Jewels daybreak polishesdew drops pearled on linden leaveswith emerald fireiridescent damselfliesdance the...

CEILING FANby Kyle Doty   Another Poem About TragedyI told you your sins were absolved.I did not tell you that I don’t have the authority.So I’m a liar.The truth is without you there wouldn’t be a...

WHISPERSby Makayla Minnich Whispers When I am still, I start to think,And thinking rarely serves me well.My mind recalls hurt feelings, fear,And empty threats on which to dwell. A foreign voice spits, “no one cares,”A chilling laugh...

SHE IS A WOMANby James Evan Gates ImpermanenceStop what you are doing and take a nap.Your bed is calling. The rain is falling.Our long and arduous expedition has come to an end.Be at peace with...

INTO THE BLIZZARDby Kathy Robertson Fall Festivities During our annual drivewe rediscoverthe buttery meadowsmeandering amongstNiagara Escarpment bluffsdecked in colourful coatsof the season burgundy,gold, scarlet, plum—as sun’s raystorch the landscape. Crisp, crinkly leavescrunch underfootas we stop to surveyroadside...

HONEY JARS IIby Allie Rigby Bones Where I am from, women have brokenfingernails that dig in the dirtlike badgers, looking for bones. Bonesmean yes, a lovely spot for pansies.Plant two there. We scrub our handsbefore dinner....

TWILIGHTby Richard Dinges, Jr Twilight Shadows hide intwilight, hide inbanality of dimskies cracked byblurred limbs.  Limbssway spasmodicallyin wind's whispers.A judgment of a daythat promised sharp linesbetween light and dark,now slips quietlyover a gray horizon.A judgment recastson...