Poetry - Year IV - Number 26 - July 2019

SOFT THINGSby Mary MacGowan  Soft Things It comes to her on soft things.Boiled noodles. Fresh bread.Cinnabons and strudel.With each chew comes a shrillness- A440 - heard in her jaw bone.Stillness is rare so she’s spareda constant...

JOYBy Lauren Bishop Joy So fleeting like the fizz of bubbles.Laughter pops and splatter with time.Artificial smiles mask the hint of fire.It licks my spine and tickles my brain.Fuzziness gone and here again.The secrets I can’t...

FIRST AS LASTby Midori Gleason   First as LastWe were two men left out on the sea,two dark shadows in a snow-flecked night.By day the golden waves would speak of dreamsof freezing on the sea so far...

BEAUTY DEFINED by Linda Greene History of Elves twilight streaming lights do shinenothing brighter than a child’s eyestinsel toy soldiers sleigh ridessnowball fights anticipations rise a never before told story kept in disguiseevery holiday season it’s been the...

INVOCATIONby Wim Coleman    InvocationYouis the mantra of mantrasthe talisman wordYouis the text of the massnot to be uttered backwardfor that is the way of hateYouis the space between voicesthe measure of that spacethe bridge acrossYouis...

VISIT TO FERN HILLby Byron Beynon VISIT TO FERN HILL I walked there,following the roadthree miles or soout of Llansteffan's reach.That unhurried summerthe tranquil Tywi flowedthrough high August countryas the abundant sun made salt,soon the river...

THE GREATEST OF THESEby Benjamin Daniel Lukey FAMILIAR I hearAll the old thingsCalling with sweet voices.I didn’t think I missed them, butI did. LOOK A well-worn game trail,Long used by deer and rabbits,Has been rudely blocked By an old...

THE GAZEby Anthony Melekwe  THE GAZE Hill, planesAcross rocky sloppy groundsI am none. You could never touchI stay lone surrounded by moonlight and nothingThe dreams that fly, daze of lullabymy feet maunders prints of Columbus and...

PARABLE OF THE FATHERby Kimberly Nunes  FACING DUENDE Dusk shadows of branches and leavesare timorous patternson the golden wall.Inside her head she swimsa red river as violet eyes driftin and out of context. Again, she is luminous haloabsorbing...

LOST CITYby Ian Allaby Lost City are these the streets of ancient timeswhere famous faces once did rove?where voices rang by torch-lit wallswhere golden chariots drove is this the grove where we embracedis this the home we...