February 2011

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Vol. 2, No. 1


Sara Asyyed – Like Ice On A Lake

Aditya Bhadra – Today, After a Forever

Rosemary Boyle – Schizophrenic

Stephen Patrick Clare – 4 days of rain

Nicholas Fraser – Whispers In the Dark

Harry Garrison – Recalcitrance Of Thorny Lions

Amanda Jendrick – Valentine

Heddy Johannesen – Midwinter

Amanda Johnson – Pride

Robert Lee – You Bet

Cassie MacDonald – Geographic Tongue

Felix Perry – Trout Pond

Lianne Perry – Five Haiku

Molly Spinney – Until Tomorrow

Jeff Torbert – This Day is a Metaphor

Steve Vernon – tealeaves destiny screenplays

John Wamboldt – The Poet

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Like Ice On A Lake
Poem by Sara Asyyed

Like ice on a lake
I can feel myself break
I can feel the smooth, sharp, stinging blades
Glide beautifully in a pair of clear white skates.
I can feel the sharpness of the tip
Meticulously slice through the ice.
I can feel the water stay perfectly still
And refuse to leak through the cracks you made,
Refuse to interrupt the rhythm in your steps,
Refuse to erase the design marked by your blade.
Like ice on a lake
I too can break

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Today, After a Forever
Poem by Aditya Bhadra

Today, after a forever,
except the one final time your thoughts crossed my mind,
my memory is free, serene, no traces of you…
…just like deserts don’t know rain
yet they yearn for it day and day after.
Today, after a forever,
the chains I had worn,
split apart to break and collapse at my feet…
…like a day when salvation beckons evil,
in the city of god for one final crusade.
Today, after a forever,
there is me, and you,
but no us, only a cause for contention…
…like barren rocks on two different mountains,
similar, but different, acquainted but strange,
close but far.
Today, after a forever,
I open my eyes to see the day,
where hours can now pass without your company,
where the presence of your love doesn’t matter…
…but rather the absence of it,
and where living and loving doesn’t require you.
Existence seemed inevitable,
but living feels good,
Today, after a forever…
I finally let go.

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Poem by Rosemary Boyle

We are all schizophrenic to a degree.
Well pressed Jeckyll’s with shiny cars, designer
Labels, pearly whites and sushi
Hologram over Hyde, concealed like dirty
Laundry when the vicar comes to tea
The one who expels noxious gas in public
Apologizes never, Irritates always
Chameleon Jekyll’s necessary nemesis
Egotistical, eccentric, explosive
Expect him, he’s always there
Devil on your shoulder
Fear in your eyes
Accept it
Dance with your demons Tap of course
Slink through the illusion, fool them all
Negotiate the hive
Fit in or at least pretend to
Didn’t get the job…everybody hates you
Crooked yellow teeth
Greasy rats tails
Rat’s everywhere – everyone
Gnawing, biting, scheming, fighting…Watching
Out to get you
It’s your own fault for wearing gray clothes
makes people think you’re glum
Boo hoo schizo’ you
You’re so hum drum!

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4 days of rain
Poem by Stephen Patrick Clare

4 days of rain
it came to stay
frozen to the earth
over all
over everything
4 days of rain
it just kept coming
and when it stopped
it stayed
frozen to the earth
over all
over everything
4 days of rain
and i am frozen to the earth
over all
over everything

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Whispers in the Dark
Poem by Nicholas Fraser

Soft Skin and flowing hair.
Luscious lips and warm blue eyes.
Whispers in the dark, touching, feeling.
Two bodies meet, becoming one.
Sweet delight, pure satisfaction.
Ecstasy in a bottle, unstoppered.
Hearts pound in quiet fury.
Kissing skin, so salty sweet.
The ultimate release, ultimate freedom.
Worlds collide and Heavens quake.
In anticipation of the final bond.
All ends in one perfect moment.
Two bodies as one, connected souls.
Peer into her eyes, kiss her lips.
A love like no other, bonded together.
Whispers in the dark. “I love you.”

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The Recalcitrance Of Thorny Lions
Poem by Harry Garrison

I found what I had sought: a lion
who had a thorn stuck in her paw.
But now, though she’s let me stop
banging my head against the wall,
she’s not letting me turn around,
to do what I want to most of all:
pull that thorn out with my claw.

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Poem by Amanda Jendrick

Beneath my skin, inside my chest
Is a pulsating magic jewel.
Garnet red and hot with life,
My body’s most sacred tool.

Awash with blood and muscle thick,
My heart collects my organ’s rue.
The stock a boil with oxygen
And circulating out and through.

I keep this treasure close to me
Like a priceless work of art.
And no amount of love for you
Shall steal away my beating heart.

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Poem by Heddy Johannesen

Snow melts in the February
winter rain,

earth stirs to spring’s
welcomed arrival,

pushing winter’s cold
cloak away

robins scratch for seeds
through stubborn tufts of

stiff buds on birch trees swell,
flowers pierce frozen

earth awakens for the
sun’s coming warmth.

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Poem by Amanda Johnson

I helped mama make cookies.
Some things I couldn’t do,
Like putting them in and taking them out
Of the burning hot oven
And I couldn’t eat them until they cooled.
She says I’m the best roller-outer
This side of New York!
I just laugh when she says stuff like that,
And put flour art on her nose.
I make mama smile her absolute prettiest
When we’re making cookies.

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You Bet
Poem by Robert Lee

A young woman was crushed
against a storefront on Spring Garden Road,
by an SUV. (yesterday I heard)
I did hear someone on the bus ask,
“How could this possibly happen?”
To which I had the thought,
“How can it not happen?”
Spring Garden is a narrow road
filled with rushed and hurried vehicles.
Someone said the driver was texting.
It was reported that the young womans
injuries are no longer life-threatening.
Do you think she is wondering,
“How could this possibly have happened?”
You bet…

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Geographic Tongue
Poem by Cassie MacDonald

The only thing worldly about me is my geographic tongue,
balding like I would be if I had the gift of cum.
But I am poor and cannot be the giver.
I must wait, the patient receiver,
for papillae, penis and bump.
There is only one continent in this vast cavity.
It is not a Pangaea, but a lost piece.
It looks smaller today. My world is fading away.
I should get to work on a bridge
and wait
for travelers.

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Trout Pond
Poem by Felix Perry

The water still not frozen on Trout Pond
And the ground wears a mere trace of snow
Like a flimsy cheap threadbare nightgown
Ashamed that its intimacy may show

The trees also stand naked like old strippers
Denuded of their warm colors of fall
If it weren’t for the beavers on Trout Pond
They’d surely have no audience at all

In the air a vague scent of wood smoke
Someone warming up hearth and home
I stand here alone on the bank of Trout Pond
Wishing somehow I didn’t feel so alone

I pull up my collar against the North wind
That suddenly must have its say
Turn my back on the humility of Trout Pond
Time to face again another new day…

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Five Haiku
Poem by Lianne Perry

Hope carries my love
On heart strings, hope sings in pulls
It soars on heart strings.

…………I know the first thing
…………About picking up pieces
…………And the last, also.

In my darkest place
I have hidden the most love.
Do you have a light?

…………When the tired moon calls
…………With a pulse and a whisper
…………In flight, carry her.

I have one request
Keep me with you all the while.
It can’t hurt, can it?

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Until Tomorrow
Poem by Molly Spinney

Hold me close, while the world outside
threatens to lose our way.
We can pretend time is standing still,
and forget all hours of day.

Wipe my tears, and I’ll fake a smile,
and together we’ll pretend,
That while the world crashes down around us
our love will never end.

I will lose myself in our kiss.
Like I lost myself in our lies,
and we can pretend the world is not against us
pretend it’s not goodbye.

One last night we’ll spend together
pray the sun gets lost in the dark
So we can stay together forever
like your memory in my heart.

It will never be official
the loss of love… it won’t hurt this way
but with each sunrise we’ll remember
the love we lost today.

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This Day is a Metaphor
Lyrics by Jeff Torbert

This day is a metaphor to tether
Some say that we’re living for each other
Some say that it depends on the weather

Replay this ethical recession
Delay our thoughts against oppression
“OK” says the part that wants vacation

Not a day goes by… why right now?

One way I can see my imperfection
Maintain a simple heart connection
“Don’t stray” is a hopeless occupation

This day I will promise to the other
One day overflows with every hour
“OK” say the voices from the altar

Not a day goes by… why right now?

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tealeaves, destiny, and screenplays
Poem by Steve Vernon

every morning there are men
and women dragged out of
bed by the clanging harangue
of alarm clocks and screaming kids;
who must shower and dress and
blow on cups of hot courage
and stare at their reflections
in toasters, teapots, and aluminum lunch buckets
who pull on workboots and neckties
and somehow muster the strength
to twist open a door knob;
who step outside the imaginary safety
of their home and into a car oor a bus or
maybe they just walk towards
the next eight hours…

there are gunslingers too,
facing showdowns in the street
when the sun rides highest
and all clocks shake hands
but they have they scripts
and the roll of endcredits
and orchestras of sweet Mexican widows
wailing brassily in the background,
(oh yes, they have backgrounds, too)

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the poet
Poem by John Wamboldt

She sits, sweaty and steamy headed,
spitting out words with reckless abandon.

Leaving her post, with hope lost,
and deserted,
she comes across a rhyme
sitting on the grass teaching children
to scan.

So sitting down beside the rhyme
she spits again
and disappears

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