View Issue as PDF vol. 15, no. 3
ISSN 2369-6516 (Print)
ISSN 2369-6524 (Online)
Scroll down to read all poems, or select the poem title to go directly to that poem. Select the author’s name to view a short biography (if supplied) and all poems by that author.
AM – one million missed connections
Chris Cameron – ily2
Megan Cooper – Sea Glass
Burris Devanney – Navalny’s Funeral: Guns and Roses
Osmund Donnelly – Do you believe in the Water Cycle?
Harry Garrison – Zen And Bike Art
Anna Kuznetsova – Sea Serpent
Ben LeBlanc – The Faux Tree
LVR – Perseverance
Scott Lynch – The Florida Outlet Mall near Naples on a Monday in February seems like a good vehicle to consider the nature of mortality
Mikayla Marshall – Pencil Lines
Lorie Morris – Fool
Charlie Parsons – Spring Cleaning
G. Rees – Manual Drive
Naomi Ruth – the hand that breaks
Rod Stewart – Heart String
Elzy Taramangalam – Pinch Point
Fool
Poem by Lorie Morris
Fool, for you.
Fool, for your love.
Fool, to care.
Fool, to believe.
Fool, to belong, to
you! I’m just a fool.
one million missed connections
Poem by AM
i am patient, i
she who suffers an action,
undergoes a change of state,
metamorphosizing beyond,
unrecognizable woman
you, man,
agent,
he who performs the action,
the start and end of movement,
cut me open and experience –
perceive me a stimulus,
something that is described,
or perceived,
but not one that
undergoes a change of fate.
Do you believe in the Water Cycle?
Poem by Osmund Donnelly
The droplet said to the bit of dew,
“You are my dear friend.
When the sun comes and dries us up
I hope we meet again.
Maybe we’ll end up in a cloud,
A lake or even a stream.”
The bit of dew sighed thoughtfully,
“What a lovely dream.”
ily2
Poem by Chris Cameron
i wish you would tell me
“i love you”
and not just
“i love you too”
Sea Glass
Poem by Megan Cooper
I’m amassing quite a collection
Picking down the beach and bending at the waist
Although my knees ache, I wait
For the tide to offer softened shards
My searching eyes peer down through windswept hair
And faded scars dance across my fingers
Trembling, seeking
Old edges worn smooth
Crashing waves peel back, reveal
An old friend of bright green
Still sharp, it cuts deeper than I expect
An emerald streak across the grey sky, then a splash
The salt stings and I plunder on
As the waves rush forward and retreat
My eyes catch on shades of green and blue
As the gulls swoop and cry
I crouch again
What once lay deep below
Sits smooth and warm in my palm
Their shouts soften to a whisper:
“You are forgiven”
My pockets grow heavy as I reach the beach’s end
I’m amassing quite a collection
of mistakes that were supposed to be unique
Sea Serpent
Poem by Anna Kuznetsova
my house is on the edge of the cliff
every storm day, I was afraid that it might fall
every sunny day, I was worried that it might melt
any other day, I was just afraid
my mom told me a story about a sea serpent
who lives in the waters
on the other side from the edge of the cliff
my friend told me that he saw him
my neighbour told me that he saw him
my dad said nothing because he passed away
on the day when the ocean was frozen
I didn’t believe them
but I asked you to protect me.
hide me behind your ribs
closer to your heart
and never let me go
it seems like you agreed
it looks like it was safe
but in the end, I saw a sea serpent in your heart
I told about it to my mother,
my friend, and my neighbour
but no one believed me
and only my father said:
“Don’t be afraid, my heart,
there are no monsters in the dark waters.”
Why I Wrote this Poem
This poem was written one day after visiting an old lighthouse at the cliff’s edge.
Heart String
Poem by Rod Stewart
Every precious thing,
Has a little string,
Maybe with a bow
Curling like a smile,
A petal, or a wing.
Joining here to there,
Maybe loose or tight,
Perhaps a knot or two,
If something’s…
Not quite right.
Often far too thin,
To touch it
If you tried,
But all it takes
Is just a tug,
And someone’s heart
Has cried.
Perseverance
Poem by LVR
Earth
Grounded dust
Frozen in hibernation
Leaving us in the
Cold
We wait
Covering ourselves
Bundling our bodies and
Minds
As the dark comes
Quicker each day
We isolate in
Fear
Of the elements
And ourselves
We wish for the
Sun
To show us the way
Shine on our path
Bring light to our
Days
To grow like flowers
We plant
Rooting into new
Earth
Pencil Lines
Poem by Mikayla Marshall
I’ve tried to erase you,
but you’ve stained my page
with faded lines that resemble your name.
Navalny’s Funeral: Guns and Roses
Poem by Burris Devanney
The police came armed and ready.
The mourners came armed with roses,
carnations, floral bouquets,
or just a single flower in hand.
The police wore masks, standing deadpan,
shoulder to shoulder, inscrutable, cheerless.
The mourners, bare-faced and fearless,
a convoy of grief, joy and bravery,
marched past the funeral church in Moscow,
named Mother of God Soothe My Sorrow,
chanting Navalny! Navalny! Navalny!
Manual Drive
Poem by G. Rees
The day finally came,
I,
twenty years old,
looked in the mirror and realized
that I was no longer seventeen.
And it made me wonder,
has my consciousness been on autopilot
this whole time?
Pinch Point
Poem by Elzy Taramangalam
Gut wisdom claims
We are what we eat
Heart wisdom murmurs
We are what we love
Hate though waits in anger
To wipe out what anyone loves
Murdering hope and tomorrows
Setting off
A fire storm of annihilation
The very right to exist.
Zen And Bike Art
Haiku by Harry Garrison
Disassemble bike.
Everything is quality.
Reassemble bike.
The Florida Outlet Mall near Naples
on a Monday in February seems like
a good vehicle to consider the nature of mortality
Poem by Scott Lynch
so many white hairs
raisins in sun
baby boomers lost in a maze
vacant stares and gaping mouths
many a mouth breather
with balding pates or
wispy windblown coifs
bad dye jobs an ombre of the blues
overdone makeup
oft times garish and mismatched colours
comfortable shoes and leisurewear
elastic, canes and walkers
as omnipresent as excessive
nose and ear hair
snowbirds on the hunt for
early bird specials
leaving the mall in their chariots
weaving unsteadily
turn signals permanently on
often sleeping at stoplights
a sexagenarian myself
like the gaze of Narcissus
what I see, apparently,
is me
sitting at the fountain
considering Blue Oyster Cult’s
1976 Agents of Fortune
and the wisdom therein
The Faux Tree
Poem by Ben LeBlanc
Out at the curb
dismantled
New Year’s Day
what provisional triumph
secured your lasting
(ever ever-green
in a heap)
like our careless fingers
letting eternity loose?
I hope when it sets
me aside, I have your plastic
courage to glisten anyway
far short of purpose.
Why I Wrote this Poem
I wrote most of this poem in my head on an early January morning walk with my dog, burnt out after the ceaseless holiday hustle. Something about the absurdity of throwing away a fake tree (which ostensibly had been intended to ‘last’ as long as you celebrated Christmas) perfectly captured the hollow consumerism that had replaced the holiday’s spirit of gratitude, wonder, and peace.
However, I found something admirable in the fake tree. Despite being discarded as trash, it still gleamed, waxy and soft – was still able to hold ornament if given the chance. The seed of redemption in this bleak tableau was that there is always something of the spirit of holiday that endures, even when the practitioners, who move sleepily through the motions, have forgotten the meanings of the ritual. And that is something worthy of appreciation.
Spring Cleaning
Poem by Charlie Parsons
in the winter of our love
comes the spring cleaning of my life
just today I watched the sun rise
for the first time in a long time
the willows whisper soothing scriptures
scrawled upon their leaves
the West Wind sings a mo(u)rning song,
the cards say to be brave,
and napkin notes and kept receipts
remind me I can breathe.
the hand that breaks
Poem by Naomi Ruth
I am not g-d’s creation
If the clay is cracked without promise of redemption
It requires no lament so lacking is this material from sin
Yet you,
Your violent hands know the sweetness of heaven
As well as I know
The bitterness of dirt
And your mother’s dinner prayer
Open Heart Forgery 