Home Poetry – Year V – Number 37 – June 2020

Poetry – Year V – Number 37 – June 2020

    SILENCE by Anna.S Kapung

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    SILENCE ...

    SOUTHWEST by Daniel Cureton

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    Southwest On iron red tipped mountains high, heat and scorched earth cracked in rays, waves brought by arid death— beams shooting through salt flats barren an age ago, cracking the range as Earth splits the crust westward through basin voids—billow...

    CORRENTE ALTERNADA, TURBULENTA OU SERENA by Yin Xiaoyuan

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    Corrente alternada, turbulenta ou serena. Na praia, perguntaste ao homem do casaco cinza: Como defines “a vontade”? Com o dedo ele desenhou uma onda senoidal na areia, e depois apagou-a com braçadas a seu alvedrio. Uma dose de...

    TWO LOVERS MEET by Edward Bonner

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    Two Lovers Meet When his grave crumbled and departed, a bright fresh guest will entertain. He in contentment remain, as the living will leave brokenhearted. Numerous jewels have sparkled, grayish hairs across the bones are plain. There is a path...

    MALPENES PUXARRA CÓSMICU by Jose Manuel SÁNCHEZ

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    MALPENES PUXARRA CÓSMICU Por Xe M. Sánchez ¿Pescáncieslo agora, nesti tiempu de peste, d’incertidume, de llerza? Nos, que dexamos les nueses güelgues na...

    BUTTERNUT by Thomas Cook

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    BUTTERNUT I am asked to change even my favorite passwords, in increments, in a base ten system, for the good of the algorithm. My friend and I have been sending one another local news stories,...

    DUMB BLONDE by Alan Cohen

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    Dumb Blonde Was I his? It did take me 50 years To consider the possibility I did always say: “He was my best friend in high school” Not “We were best friends…” I have no idea what he...

    THE NARRATOR AND THE POET by Korkut Onaran

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    THE NARRATOR AND THE POET It snowed all day and now, although in a timid way, sun is shining through the clouds like a small but slowly growing hope, and it is casting shadows of...

    HANDS by Milton Ehrlich

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    HANDS Can pluck a Stradivarius, sculpt a David out of marble, pleasure oneself, or a loving partner, scratch an itch, pick your nose, wipe your ass, write a play, applaud and give a standing ovation, tie a shoelace or...

    NATURE’S FAN by Rhienna Renée Guedry

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    Nature’s Fan golden light, a smell like downy wings of pigeons at the crown of a young mother’s head. it is the first, if not the only thing i see, shining brighter than a cherub’s flesh, a...