February 2015

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Vol. 6, No. 1

In this Issue:

Dorothyanne BrownAn unwelcome package

Marc ComeauControlled Release

Ryan EavisFear of Falling

Barbara EllisListening at Writers’ Group

L. L. EnkiduThe World’s Coal

Jari-Matti HelppiDo I Must

Harry Garrisonhave a good time!

Jim Hoyle Types

Erica LewisInsanity

Scott Lynchthis Amherst March

Edward Martins-BerkiThe Duel of the Devotees

Mike McFetridgeWhen You Reach a Certain Age

K.A. MeechanThe Façade

Nicole MyersAll the Poets in Heaven

Patti PattendenOn Loss

Matthew P. ScottDreamboat

Naomi SlaterThe Road


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Erica Lewis

The whole is dreaming.
The whole world’s on fire,
lethargically lolling about,
with sudden bursts of
money grabbing and money grubbing.

Our footprints fill with blood
as the winds take away the seeds
and the whales sing louder.

Rats and crows are taking hold,
hungry sharks closing in,
pushed aside by our wanting, our having,
our having to have.

I want to feel sad.
I want to weep.
I want to remember what it was like


In a hundred years, they’ll read these words
and claw their eyes out.

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The Road
Naomi Slater

Be Still
For Time Is Passing
With No Wave Good Bye
No Songs of Being
Loved or Lost
Only Thrown Stones
To Block The Road
Or A Row of
Wildflowers Might Grow
Along The Road
Stretching Into
The Setting Sun
Don’t Look Back
For Time Is Passing
Be Still

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this Amherst March
Scott Lynch

rising from the snowy mists
semi obscured
white and ominous
hulks at rest
first a trio, then, strangely, more
battle ready their stance
waiting a gust
all angles these colossi of the Tantramar
marsh bound as if emerging
from the Fundy unchecked
a phalanx of stillness with longswords
no warring whirls just yet
leviathans upon us

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On receiving an unwelcome package in the mail
Dorothyanne Brown

Oh frabjous day, callooh callay
Said Carroll long ago
I rather imagine his joyous day
Was not like mine, oh no.

For on this day I smiled wide
To see a letter lie so
Against my lonely mailbox side
Where only bills seem to go

I clasped it in my sweaty hands
Excited as a child
Only to read on the return address
That it was THAT test inside

A fingertip of Death’s cool hand
Poked in my quivering belly
“It’s time to screen your poo,” he said
“A task most awfully smelly.”

It is a shabby life I lead
When the post is so unexciting
That even a test you smear and return
Seems ALMOST quite inviting.

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On Loss
Patti Pattenden

The dying shades
of green
I held in my eyes
and watched them decay
to a dull beige
nothing exists forever
and so the changing
seasons remind me
when I feel lost
I will find my way back home
in the night
when all is silent

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The World’s Coal
L. L. Enkidu

This world’s a coal

They set the powerline on fire
by the bakery, a former safe haven,
from a city polluted with terrible smells,
It smelt worse than a burning tire,
Always curious I am like a raven,
A believer in actions and pictures tells.

I step into the shop for the full story,
everyone, boss, employee admire,
what could have been, ghost rider’s residue,
Busy watching through cellphone screens,
“Sorry, don’t know the story.”
I felt much like a vampire without a sire,
I left the bakery to inspect this feeling anew.

The world has ended.
People just haven’t noticed.
With us staring through screens.
I’m standing right in front of you,
do you get what I mean?
It’s been so long since I’ve really touched,
The world the screen tries to cloche.

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Listening at Writers’ Group
Barbara Ellis

Into that dusk filled air
No bright hook sliced
To capture idling minds
Grown torpid in their lair
And hard to find.

Then Leah cast her lure.
From hiding they rose.
Silver quickened the night.
With soundings so sure
She had startled delight.

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Fear of Falling
Ryan Eavis

How bewildering is love?
A heart left broken, barely beating,
Yet, still this inexorable anticipation to fall.

And O! How it does fall once more!
Inevitably, though in hesitance and in jade,
behind the curtains of tainted lucidity
where consciously, a relentless gravity
acts upon heavy heart
to persuade unwarranted fear of falling.

Perhaps indifferent is fate
in the appointment of a new fall.
Perhaps inconsiderate of the manner
in which previous players
have exited the stage.

Nevertheless, a fleeting chance
to turn faded heart from jade
to all brilliant colors of love.
If only but to live for this moment
and to fall from as high
as new love will take it.

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The Façade
K.A. Meechan

A single soul stands squarely torn
A side that brilliant jewels adorn
And yet that soul feels sadness blue
And cannot shake that dreary hue.

A side that wants to live life free
Explore the world, its treasures see
But there’s a side that feels so weak
That never wants to laugh or speak

That hides the gloom from other’s view
And bleeds its soul all day through
With tears that crumble that spirit strong
And cries alone all day long

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Matthew P. Scott

Dreamboat is coming,
birds are rising,
aging sunlight on reeds too delicate to break.
Air touches me, air drenched in silent heart,
deep secrets of the darkening land.

I catch glimpses now, music comes,
faint desires drifting forever out of reach.
I hear the torn earth underneath my feet.
My breath is gone, heartbeat stilled,
dreamboat comes!
I can tell she will not come to land.

I watch her going by, too beautiful to know,
Softness, love, heart of hearts,
How was it I believed I was born to love,
felt so certain of my heart?
Now, oh now, I watch the silent stream,
and know,
dreamboat passed me by.

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Do I Must
Jari-Matti Helppi

If I must,
and must’s a cloud:
to change a way,
to fart less loud.
To say that now my birth begins,
with New Year’s dreams and groans of sins.
If I must, and must is proud;
to giggle good when in a crowd.
A crowd that swears that this new year,
will fit to thoughts
that miss a mirror.

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The Duel of the Devotees
Edward Martins-Berki

Under the veil of evening,
Two gentlemen stood at back.
Slowly, they started stepping,
Thousand paces till attack.

Close friends, they loved each other,
Practically they were kin.
Yet, both had loved another,
It was her heart one would win.

Half way crossed infinity,
A lit fuse began to burn.
Both men of integrity,
And still, one had plan to turn.

Violently, one twist’d his head,
And quickly shot himself dead.

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have a good time!
Harry Garrison

everybody should
have a good time,
have a fine time,
everybody ought
to have themselves
a real good time!
yes, everybody should,
but there’s a fine line
we always seem to cross,
and it could take a lifetime
to figure out why,
but everybody should try,

‘cause you are born,
and you find yourself
one of us, and you try
to get along with
the rest of us,
but we’ve got ourselves
a few little laws,
and they get broken,
and we get broken, but

everybody should
have a good time!

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s o m e t i m e s
my skin peels off like a banana
and i dance around in my muscles and tendons
s o m e t i m e s
i do not

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When You Reach A Certain Age
Mike McFetridge

When you reach a certain age,
You reach a certain stage
When routine becomes an obsession;
When eight o’clock at night
Becomes the time that’s right
To end the daily progression;
It’s time to go to bed,
To rest your weary head,
To digress and enter oblivion,
You dream, perhaps far worse
Than anything this verse
Can describe, you vision
A “live in”.

And one hopes the world you live in
Is not worse than this verse gives and
You do not lose your will nor lose your mind;
For hope blooms most eternal
And the world is so external
That the worries that it poses
Are sublime.

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All the Poets in Heaven
Nicole Myers

the one who gave me life rests in a darkened room

my Father impatiently awaiting the end of his days
I capture his weakened hand with both of mine
move gently to him and whisper softly in his ear
I ask him kind-heartedly that whenever he arrives
to please give my love to all the Poets in Heaven

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Controlled Release
Marc Comeau

How are you?
I’m on top of the world now
that I’m thinking of you.
It’s nice talking to you.

I thought of you
for five minutes today.
It’s the modern way
to be friends.

When will I see you again?
Not too long.
Not too soon.
Measure out our friendship
in afternoons.

You’re unavailable.
You’re barely tangible.
You’re so beautiful.
Talk to me
in intervals.
Like me til the end of time.

It’s the only way
to bring me peace.
Controlled release
Controlled release
Controlled release

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Jim Hoyle

Beluga, whale, bowhead;
Minke, pilot, fin;

Naphtha, oil, kerosene;
Terpene, octane, bitumen;

Chuck, beef, brisket;
Sirloin, shank, rib;

Netted, hooked, trawled;
Seined, tickled, jigged.

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