Home Poetry - Year VII - Number 50 - July 2021

Poetry - Year VII - Number 50 - July 2021

    SEÑORITA BANTE! by Roseangelina Baptista

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    Bante! Assim te chamei. Entretanto, duvideique pudesses me ensinara arte de abraçar as coisascomo elas vêm para nós. Como o invernodesiste de sina...

    BASIL by Gigi Guizado

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    Heart-shaped Vase If my fragile heart should break,fill my ventricles with flowers;like bud vases for roses and peonies.That would please me. If my swollen heart should...

    THE FROGS OF SUN YAT SEN UNIVERSITY by Miodrag Kojadinovic

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    Among the Lotophagoi I ate lotus, (Full) Moon cakes,and yet the memory loss was onlythe expected fatigue of carbohydrate cells.Southern China was not Ogygia, what with the palms,mangos and...

    ONLY STARS by Peycho Kanev

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    Only Stars When I look back,I always do itnot with a smile, but with astonishmenton my face. I remember the time,when I was little kid and thenthere still were...

    CARDINAL SINS by Kushal Poddar

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    Cardinal Sins One cardinal cheepsNear your sinful pane,Open in summer wind, Near your bedpost failingTo disentangle the white shirtOf the other man. You wearThe black boxers,...

    TAKE TEN by LG Pomerleau

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    How We See “No telescope is more powerful than the prejudice of the person looking through it.”Kevin Ashton, How To Fly A Horse, 2015 The spider...

    OF SCRIBBLING by Korkut Onaran

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    THE SECOND DAY OFTHE SECOND DECADE The sun reappearsfrom behind the cloudsbeamijg into the narrow opening along the horizonto shine for a little whileon the face of the city.Then...

    MAPLE by Van Anderson

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    Birthday I was a gift to mother years ago,seventy-four, to be exact, and sheturned thirty-five the day that I was born.We keep close track and number years becausewe are...

    WORTHWHILE CREATURES by Nathan Tluchowski

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    worthwhile creatures my poems don’t matterthe breasts of devils give ill milkand each tragedy of a big cunt or bad circulation can’tnullify:the dirty snow oraugered shitholescentralized heat orthe gigas...

    OLD SCHOOL by Sean Murphy

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    Ars moriendi It’s true, she died peacefully, in her home.This is all she wanted; all we asked for(after asking for a great number of things,each denied in turn, by...