August 2018

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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.
Click the author’s name to view a short biography (if supplied) and all poems by that author.

Matt BonnCreative Depression

Natalie BoyceEmotional Theme Park

David DuTime is like a Knife

Nicole Flemingsaint john

Harry GarrisonPleasure

Cathy HanrahanSummer Nostalgia

Brian HardingEvelyn

Jim HoyleForbidden Journey

Michael LeClair Sr.He Waits

Erica LewisReclamation

Brian Lomaxspeaking as a man in love

Scott Lynchforsaken

David Mac EachernBusiness Trip

T. J. MacFarlaneNarrowing Walls to the Slaughter House

Harry Wayne Mahcredit card

Chinenye ‘Zabrain’ NdulueWhen a Chess Player Falls in Love

Julie SmithLittle Ones

Rod StewartDress Up!

Ryan TaylorHighway Rustle

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for my Grand Daughter
Poem by Brian Harding

Even in the darkness
Your eyes light your soul

Your smile embraces
The cool night’s air

When the flickering flame
Becomes the SunSet

You shall remain forever
The Landscape of life

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Forbidden Journey
Poem by Jim Hoyle

I heard her gentle voice.
“You’re everything a man should be,”
said she of the precious eyes,
naively, with a slow, shy smile.

I was surprised, for she’s had
little experience of men, I think,
so she cannot tell it isn’t true.
(I could be a better man, you see.)

I let her have her wishful thought.
It seemed to please her.

But this morsel of desire
is forbidden fare
and since I did not wish to be
engulfed in a quicksand
of lust and deceit,
I cast aside my own wishful thoughts
and decided to be that better man.

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Time is like a Knife
Haiku by David Du

Our bodies sagging
Exposing more the wrinkles –
Scars left by time’s knife

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When a Chess Player Falls in Love
Poem by Chinenye ‘Zabrain’ Ndulue

Every single DAWN,
I want to be your PAWN.
The one you can CALL,
When the day seems DULL.

In Every single FIGHT.
I want to be your Knight.
All through the NIGHT.
Chasing your fears with my Light.

At every cranny and Nook,
I want to be your Rook.
Hanging unto you like a HOOK,
Never ending like a BROOK.

Finally, we could wed in a SHOP,
or in a Church by a BISHOP.
As long as you’ll be my QUEEN,
and I, your KING.

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Creative Depression
Poem by Matt Bonn

Highs and lows, Fake smile with a fake glow.
It’s all one big fake show.
I want to be happy for real,
It doesn’t come fast like I want it to,
it takes time and comes slow.
Didn’t think I had an artistic bone in my body,
now that I’m clean it’s one of my favourite hobbies.
It all started with one session,
I took all that deep down depression,
turned it into all kinds of creative expression.
Every time I thought I failed,
I turned it into a life lesson.
When I write a poem,
it’s almost like I’m saying a confession.
When I draw a picture
I’m getting out all of my aggression.
I always thought that drugs would be
my one and only obsession.
Now walking around it’s a pen and pad,
that I have in my possession.
My future was not
waking up in my dealer’s living room.
Now my options are endless,
I’m like a beautiful little flower
that has yet to bloom.

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He Waits
Poem by Michael LeClair Sr.

He’s sixty years old, his son never calls.
Skeletons on hangers, pictures on walls.
What did he do, haunts him at night.
Sins of a parent, inexorably take flight.
Days come and go, no card in the mail.
Silence masks all, he gets scarily frail.
Maybe some chatter, a simple I’m sorry.
The mailbox creaks, its own empty story.
What has he done, the old man thinks.
He looks at the phone, a red button blinks.
Maybe my child, he shuffles to answer.
Telemarketers cackle, impersonal banter.
He groans as he sits, reclines into sleep.
He used to be Batman, ready to leap.
Powers once needed, kept fear at bay.
The door doesn’t open, he stays away.
At least they have memories, all it took was a kiss.
Arms hugging shoulders, they wrote Santa’s list.
The old man thinks, maybe tonight.
I’ll hear his voice, I’ll be alright.

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Poem by Scott Lynch

lying like the carnage of battle
another fall
sober gray steels the sky
the bleedings all but done
neither breeze nor rain
disturbs reflection
nothing more is needed
to provoke our pathos
leaving is loss enough
November stings
smacking of cold reality
joy and promise
soldiers of spring
are mourned
as darkness drowns our world

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Narrowing Walls to the Slaughter House
Poem by T. J. MacFarlane

I had a vision of cows in the library
grazing on the leafs of grass.
I had a vision of pigs and dogs at the podium
getting ribbons for being pampered and fat.
I had a vision of tigers prancing in the grass
shot dead and placed on the trophy mantle.
I had a vision of a statue in the sand,
and another flower wilts.

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speaking as a man in love
Poem by Brian Lomax

i can understand from people
how they fall in love
i can understand from people
what it’s all about
i can understand why people
exchange wedding rings
speaking as a man in love
i can understand from people
how memories get so hard to bear
i can understand from people
what it’s like to care
i can understand from people
that memories go everywhere
speaking as a man in love
i can understand from you,
you’ll never call my name
i can understand from you,
that you’ll expect the same
i can understand why we
might have played that game
speaking as a man in love

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Little Ones
Poem by Julie Smith

— flower petals hold me toes
they are pink and I am multi hued
days of Spring eclipses bound
flavours of wind, taste delight

mornings when clouds part
upon my sleepy lids
smiles play shy and meek
with dances, hands clapping

dawn sings clearly
open lips of welcome kisses
this is your motion, freed
parallel to bridges, flying
with toes pointed

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Dress Up!
Poem by Rod Stewart

We’re not penguins
In shin short itchy pants
Belted below armpits,
Tipsy butterfly bow ties
Clinging on strangling starched
Iron maiden collars,
Inside mummy tight
Triple weight
Quadruple oversized
Man child
Woolen armor,
Wobbling in snub nosed
Black patent leather
Twin pontoons.
Maybe you might,
Coax half a smirk
If an inside out pocket
Might cough a mint
Not a melted mothball,
Thank you,

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Haiku by Harry Garrison

The most important
thought that crosses my mind is:
I’m enjoying this.

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Summer Nostalgia
Poem by Cathy Hanrahan

The rhythmic drum of the cascading waves
Is calming and distracts me
from the oppressive heat that permeates even the beach.
A stale breeze flutters but the crabgrass stands stern
sculpted by a helmet of spiky and unyielding turf.
Gray and speckled flat stones washed smooth by the surf
dot the shore as I snooze in the sun’s summer bleach.
Tangled salty hair and sticky damp skin
are the leftovers of the soft waves
that rolled and lolled over me
undeterred by anything but the rhythm of the sea

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Poem by Erica Lewis

My body has detached itself,
lamenting bitterly,
its own demise.

It sits across from me,
in judgement,
eyes narrowing
in scrutiny,
arms elongating,
hands about my throat.

Now that it is rid of me,
has left me in a loose puddle
upon the floor,
it gets up and leaves,
the impostor now dead.

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saint john
Poem by Nicole Fleming

There is an ocean down the block from me—

where once I would find
parliament, people, the centre of our country—
now I am nowhere important at all,
yet the ocean has chosen
to wash up here.

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Business Trip
Poem by David Mac Eachern

Earn it, live it, manage it
Lifestyle be granted as pay
Sensing not time to quit
Valiant flame, lit to stay

Rush of day, worldly act
Free or caged, seldom sure
From dawn till dusk contract
Loss becoming gain, gambler’s cure

Winning by fidelity, patience wise
Each prosperous venture, bonus won
Investment ladder, scaled to rise
Action heading into shining sun

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Highway Rustle
Poem by Ryan Taylor

time is drinks spilling
the wetness of eyes
and friends sitting shotgun
time is early birthday parties
maple leaf playoff games
and angel food cake
time is losing trust
and never learning
tired of being
tired of being
we put our seat belts on
driving without songs
without dance and radio
the back window broken
wind and white noise of road
whiskey sour
we make our way
to bunge
after two tires
half sober
half disheartened
and a quarter
cause for sure
everybody takes it to heart

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Emotional Theme Park
Poem by Natalie Boyce

Some days are full of emotions.
Up and down like a roller coaster,
Spinning around like a tilt-a-whirl.
Rushing like the water on a log ride.
Do you have those days?
Everyone visits their own emotional theme park.
Sometimes, you can’t help it.

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credit card
Poem by Harry Wayne Mah

tiny fluffy white snowflake$ merge, morph into cute tiny snowball rolling down doWn dOwn dOWnhill your frozen boots trapped inside its Gargantuan Black $hadoW you marvel how it got so Big, so Fast

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