March 2016

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ISSN 2369-6516 (Print)
ISSN 2369-6524 (Online)

You can also read the poems by scrolling down or clicking the titles.
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Nicole AllisonWonderfully Together

mdbingham Words

George BordenOh! To Be Irish

Hana ConevskaHearts Change like the Climate

Brian DockalDreadnought

Daniel DoverMissed Steps

Joffre DucharmeDoes the Robin Sing for Me

Cathy HanrahanBarstool Ballerina

Jari-Matti Helppi“My Round, Mr. Shelley”

Angela HouTo My Lovers

Thibault Jacquot-ParatteWe Are So Young

Julie J. JenkinsAct of True Love

Lara LewisEumenides

Scott LynchThe Shore, Cape D’or

Lorie Ann MorrisWhen

Nicole MyersCommute

Sara Drought Nebel –  Awareness

Nathaniel S. RoundsThe Ache / Shechita

Elzy TaramangalamHisa at Hundred

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Oh! To Be Irish
Poem by George Borden

It’s shamrock time
all over the world.
When the color green
covers the earth.
It’s gnomes and elves
and mischievous leprechauns
about their well documented business.
So, it’s “top o’tha mornin,”
“wee this and that,”
“faith an’ begorra” and such.
High hats and trimmin,
belt buckles and vests,
with sharp pointy boots galore.
A tall tankard O’Suds,
“to moisten me’ whistle,”
plus “songs and times o’home.”
Yes, it’s that time of year,
dear ol’ March 17th.
So, lets give a cheer
for Saint Patrick’s Day
and that great emerald isle
with its mysterious pot o’ gold
and immeasurable good luck!

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Missed Steps
Poem by Daniel Dover

another missed step, in Montreal noon
rows of pigeons keeping track as jury

and in the storefronts off Sherbrook
ladies coax manikins into inviting poses—
they shrug and adjust

.. .. ..

catching bird songs thru traffic, watching
Quebecois cowboys siphon off cigarettes,

stoplights commanding pace
street-signs imposing direction.
and I know—

only the steps I miss
….. are of my own design

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Poem by mdbingham

I do not know the words
which may be written
by one like me
to one like you

we play house
we feign love

infantile spoons

The weight of the feeling
between our favourite songs.

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Poem by Lara Lewis

Tooth and claw, fighting instinct.
Tooth and nail, breaking laws.
Fury —
Your last decision on my behalf.

I promised to always be in your eyes
I promised to always be
I promised, in your eyes.
In your eyes I —
I will never promise again.
You know my real name now;
The last Kindly One.

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The Shore, Cape D’or
Poem by Scott Lynch

the trails of snails
upon the beach
the lapping waves
just out of reach
each act an act
of rout contrition
or more perhaps
of diminution
futility a daily task
or something more
you’re pressed to ask
the way of things
has been divined
and time and tide
remind remind
that snails and men
and waves are just
meant to toil
as they must
our lives have meaning
as we age
the rout and rancor
light the page
it’s when we’re old
we start to see
then yield to youth
who’ll be
who’ll be

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Wonderfully Together
Poem by Nicole Allison

Here we are again My Love
Waiting to take Life’s Next Step
The Journey of yesterday will take us
where we want to be : Tomorrow
As we write New Chapters the pages
unfold showing that there are
more stories to tell
What lies before us are Treasures
Waiting to be found and Mysteries
that your eyes show me
Your love is like a Locket that I keep near
to My Heart Precious and Timeless
like The Love We Share
We’re Alive to see these Days of Gold
You are my Glowing Gem that lights
my Future In the Nights of Wonder
Letting me know Love’s Present is You
Let’s Dance to our Love’s Sweet Song
When You Believe in the Magic of
Two Hearts Aligning as One
spelling out Our Love Story
Look at the Stars there’s
a Trace of Us Together
Simple Magic found it’s Way to be
Simply Perfect and it will go down in
History to be Simply Wonderful
That’s You and I Forever

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Does the Robin Sing for Me
Poem by Joffre Ducharme

Does the robin sing for me?
I asked my Lord.
Does the robin sing for me?
I do all the singing
Replied my Lord.
I do all the singing.

The robin carries to you my voice
So you may hear me and rejoice.
The echo bounces back to me
And I can then rejoice with thee.

But the robin knows all this already.

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To My Lovers
Poem by Angela Hou

There’s a bit of Love,
A fleeting glimpse before it’s taken away.
Force it away.
Away from
I want to cut these youthful feelings
……………Hope and —-
I’ve always been a rebel;
Didn’t care for naptime then
I do now.
I live. I’ve lived. Enough.
……………To sleep; perchance to dream
All’s fair in Love and War.
Fair – not Just.
I fear War will win,
……………and Love, fall behind.
I still
……………do believe in justice
I believed in Love
I was both jaded and hopeful
……………I am still jaded,
……………No longer hopeful.
No longer awake.

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“My Round, Mr. Shelley”
Poem by Jari-Matti Helppi

A few words here, a string of verse,
and Byron had them, heart and purse.
And swoon they did, with many fair;
all from words raw, nature bare,
and sonnets sold with tender flow
as couplets, quatrains, love songs know,
will woo the poets bought from shelves,
by lovestruck coins that woo themselves.

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Poem by Lorie Ann Morris

When, are we going?
When, have we had enough?
When, do we let go?
When, is it time, to say when?

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We Are So Young
Poem by Thibault Jacquot-Paratte

We are so young, and life seems so distant,
and I cannot imagine where your face will become
what its colour and what its subtlety
will it still be in some royalty
look out for the ghosts of some same house.
And I have a spot on my upper left cheek
the life of wine is a chalice of bright red silk
and it evolves as lightly tapping theatre
or that time we went out to the ballet
when the author was our age
between hope, and hedonists and yolo
beware my dear, and sleep in my arms
and we will get through this
thinking that we are still
somewhere between ten and twenty years of age,
all i would want
is for tenderness to bloom.

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Barstool Ballerina
Poem by Cathy Hanrahan

Prodigy ballerina sits alone at the bar
Adored and revered no more
Delicate angel, dancer’s besotted star
Denigrated to tragic bar whore.

Leaning against wooden lip seeking favors
Bartender’s eye heart breaking decline
Life relegated to semi scorched waivers
And pirouettes no longer sublime.

Daylight dances on drifting air dust
As the bar door swings open wide
In struts morality begging for trust
Her escort for salvations ride.

Refuge redemption slides a slippery slope
Hesitating she holds out her hand
Sealing a deal with the devil named hope
And claiming the fifth on the stand

Nothing revealed is not what it seems
Secrets surrender to rot
Black out white knights sweet tale of dreams
And salvage the soul cheaply bought

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Act of True Love
Poem by Julie J. Jenkins

One little tear
Ran down your cheek
I now have found what I did seek

Those eyes so deep
Ran down my back
And this I know
Is not an act

The gentle hand
That touched my neck
While sitting on
The back porch deck

Did wipe the tear
When I did cry
The moment that
You nearly died

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Poem by Nicole Myers

in the drizzling rain
bone-chilled from an
icy wind that gave way
to an indescribable fog
she shivers
under a thin scarf
mobile in dense boots
against the brownish
gray of an idle town
……………she transfers
toward a provisional
soaked in melancholy
as the bus pulls away

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Poem by Brian Dockal

I drank full from the lie,
We danced to the point of no return,
Melting magma in my eye,
You and I look up, really took a turn.

Pretty boys got nothing in the know,
Secret language, prowess unseen,
Half shut mind, mouth in tow,
Never really gave it any mean.

Sunset, let the envy begin,
Heavenly face cue brow knit,
Bet the world I took it on the chin,
Didn’t think we could make it.

Cheat the languish, won no heat,
Smoking gun, the things you won’t share,
The attenuation on the last disco beat,
We had a record breached without care.

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Hearts Change like the Climate
Poem by Hana Conevska

Now when it is November, and The Trees
are full
As if natures’ violations are in full
Bloom, you understand
the unnatural aspects of your empty

when the wind whispers (in tiny corners of
Space) tiny thoughts tug at the

forcing clinging leaves to the
in order to partake in the Communal
Burial, the infinite ritual of

but my memories they do not fall
they become The Leaves and the mild
November lets them be.

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Poem by Sara Drought Nebel

When Awareness comes
and words unfold
the ultimate story
of life is told
not by words
but might-
be found
in a fleeting
sliver of

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The Ache / Shechita
Poem by Nathaniel S. Rounds

A hallaf is held in the hand
It shines
It does not end in a point
Freed from its synoptic nerve
Innocence bleeds freely
Its fall broken
By darkness

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Hisa at Hundred
Poem by Elzy Taramangalam

When thunder is strangled
In the skies above
I stretch, spread, bend
I step back to fold
Swirl, swing and inhale
The world to complete itself.

When the whisper of snow skiffs
Drift across the ice
I snuggle, huddle, hush the rushing heart
And exhale to fill the world with light
Carols and spectrum of joy
On every single lingering day.

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