September 2018

cropped-ohflogo2r.jpgView September Issue vol. 9, no. 7
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.

Kate ArpinEscape

Matt BonnAddicted

Natalie BoyceWhy me?

Valerie BroadnaxAlexandro

Janet BrushDandelion

Ella DodsonMother’s Lost Heart

David DuSight

Harry GarrisonBand-Aid On Street!

Jim HoyleAn old man’s tragedy

Scot JamiesonOut at Cow Bay

Michael LeClair Sr.I Still Remember – Pt. 1

Brian Lomaxi’m a lonesome man

Scott Lynchavant le café

David Mac EachernNature Speaks

t.j MacFarlaneWhen she told me about my smile

Harry Wayne MahLife = ‘inside’ Joke

Laureli Morphy Survivor Me

Rod StewartYard Sales

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Poem by Kate Arpin

Silver bubbles erupt out of darkness;
my fingertips tingle in the chill.
A blurry silence, muffled black
in silky tranquility.
A cradle of gentle rhythm;
enveloping blue softness.
Life is finally quiet.

On the surface,
transcending serenity –
rain rages, winds roar;
garish colours, piercing lights;
Voices screaming
for a whisper.

My world is a haze,
dancing ripples
across a silver sapphire,
distorting an alien world.
Bubbles meander to the surface
trickling towards the light
to break the silence.

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When she told me about my smile
Poem by t.j MacFarlane

She told me
“You have a beautiful smile”
With that rosy-shy hue
In her cheeks.

I told her:
“most people smile because they are nervous.
I’m smiling genuinely, with you.”

I was happy.
She blushed more, smiling,
and looked away from my eyes.

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avant le café
Poem by Scott Lynch

lost in his privileged world
a cock pheasant
a rainbow in the morning dawn
Joseph in his coat of many colours
in the middle of the road
thinking perhaps he was wearing
a cloak of invisibility invincibility
possibly musing the story of Jacob
and his 12 sons
forcing me to brake my car
waking shocked at his own temerity
giving me the eye
suddenly bolting to the undergrowth
stage right
leaving me my coffee
and more than a little awe

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Poem by Matt Bonn

Addicted to weed, addicted to speed.
Addicted to crack, addicted to smack.
Addicted to the drink, addicted to the sink.
Addicted to blow, addicted to the low.
Addicted to the rush, addicted to the crunch.
Addicted to sex, addicted to my ex.
Addicted to the trust, addicted to lust.
Addicted to the bang, addicted to the slang.
Addicted to the deal, addicted to trying to heal.
Addicted to the money, addicted to being funny.
Addicted to the faith, addicted to the sin.
Addicted to the heroin, addicted

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Band-Aid On Street!
Rectangle Poem by Harry Garrison

There is a band-aid on the street in an intersection, stuck inside a crosswalk. It has sat in there for numerous weeks. Did the asphalt get a boo-boo? And did some kind human act quickly, while they had the walk light, to offer first aid? It’s a big bandage, business-side down, and perfectly flat. I wonder, when it’s gone, will it leave any sort of a mark?

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Poem by Valerie Broadnax

The Buzzing of Bees
To the End of the Seas
I reach out for your Touch
As your Songs call to me –
You have All of my Heart in your clutch

I will go on – Whether you’re here or there
My love longs for you –
Longing for the moments Where…
We will Unite!
Making up time –
Bodies entwining, into an everlasting night

Always Loving you…
I feel your Heartbeat Too…
Near or at the Ends of the World…
Will Always Be… Hearts connected –
For Our Love Birthed… As a precious Pearl

I will be with you always as you with I
No matter where you are in this world, sea or sky
We will always be one – And when you are afar…
I will be waiting for you, Always –
To come back to me, my Twilight Star

No time or distance – will Ever make a difference
For we are two halves of a Pumpkin
In Love… we are Drunken…
For Yes, Alexandro, Never fear –
Because Always take comfort…
For my Love,
I… will Always Be Near!

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Out at Cow Bay
Poem by Scot Jamieson

Knotted wrack and rockweed,
Seabeach sandwort,
Scotch lovage,
Dulse and kelp,
Barnacles, periwinkles,
mussels and oysters . . .
Sanderlings, willets,
Dowitchers, whimbrels,
Plovers and sandpipers,
Both semipalmated,
And an unsemipalmated
Immense cement moose.

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I Still Remember – Pt. 1
Poem by Michael LeClair Sr.

Let me drive I bleated
He shook his knowing head.
The edge of the seat I teetered
He gently steered the bend.

I’ll be careful Dad, I ventured
I know just what to do
He chuckled softly, mentioned
Someday you’ll see the view.

I slumped toward the old Ford’s seat
Let out a childhood breath
Dad looked at me, at my feet
He had a plan, a test.

If you can reach this hard, black pedal
I’ll let you push the gas
A massive chore for one so little
I’ll steer so we won’t crash.

With trembling feet and shaky hand
I slid quietly into position
I edged my foot, just like a man
I swear that day, transitioned.

In my head, no longer a boy
I was my Father’s son
My first foray beyond a toy
A brand new kind of fun.

Decades passed beyond that time
My Father took that chance
I still recall how sublime
I earned my big boy pants.

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Poem by David Du

The wind staggers like a drunk,
Shaking the clouds and lopping the sun,
A crow like a lost kite blows across the sky

It’s very hard to go, walking,
Like a boat buffeted by the sea –
Your heart jumping.
You hear a sound like the universe coming
But you keep quiet,
Having faith, it’s not the end of the world.

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i’m a lonesome man
Poem by Brian Lomax

i’m a lonesome man
i’m a lonesome man
had so many women
i couldn’t hold them
with both arms and hands
there’s no shame
no one to blame
i wake up i feel the same
if you got the time
lady you’re here to play
i like the smell of your clothes
and those earrings you got on
so you like my guitar
so strum it, hum it
you’re singing my song

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Mother’s Lost Heart
Sonnet by Ella Dodson

Cold fog slinks into my kitchen at five,
I clutch hot celadon mug with crepe hands,
Though java jolts me, still dull, not alive.
Dark ancient fears haunt me out of dreamlands.

Ghost of hard-hearted lost daughter taunts me.
Sleep starved, coddled in crocheted cashmere shawl,
Damp mist clings, wispy curls frizz, spring free
Goddess emerges, crowned by silvery caul.

Girls become mothers with kisses of love,
Their wisdom hard gained with feathers of dove

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Survivor Me
Poem by Laureli Morphy

I like to think about alternate universes
I like to imagine
what I’m like on those earths,
in those universes
Happy, smiling, living a normal life
Going to a good school
and fulfilling whatever dreams I have

Not so much like me
Sad, anxious, shy, but happily depressed
Alternative music lover me
Book lover me
Poetry lover me
Writer me
Saddened me
Most of all,
Survivor me

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Yard Sales
Poem by Rod Stewart
Soon is not soon enough,
To guzzle icy lemonade
Under sweltering sun,
While housewives and husbands
Laugh, gawk and haggle
Over yard sales
Of tools, trinkets and toys
Strewn across lawns and driveways.
As if our homes
Were children’s boxes
Emptied upside down
Of whatnots and keepsakes,
Offered for a pittance,
A smile or a handshake,
Only to reappear
Around the corner,
Next summer,
To be adopted anew
As a pleasure for a few seasons,
By another kind family
In our neighborhood,
Of chalk drawings,
Barking dogs, street hockey,
And backyard gardens.

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Why me?
Poem by Natalie Boyce

Why do I have to do this?
Why not my brother?
Why not my mom?
Why not my dad?
Why not my dog?
I’ll tell you why,
Because I’m a girl.
Not just any girl.
I’m an empowering female.
I will do it.

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Life = ‘inside’ Joke
Poem by Harry Wayne Mah
pssst… wanna hear a good one? ;-) the joke’s on me the joke’s on you the joke’s on her and on him too the joke, you see, it’s all on us and the punchline . . . . ? - no one steers This Bus

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Nature Speaks
Poem by David Mac Eachern

From trees the swallows sing a song
a lead for others to join along
Flowing tunes begin to fill the air
such calling of friends, unity to share
Upon a neighboring hedge lands another breed
may show diversity at first, but received
No borders to patrol, freedom to all
this daily routine convening as nature’s law
As each took flight leaving the perch
a given aura of life’s meaningful worth

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Poem by Janet Brush

The humble dandelion, so lovely,
yet cursed, reviled as noxious weed,
guillotined en masse by lawn mowers.

Why do we destroy such beauty?
A harbinger of spring, popping up everywhere,
Its golden flower turning vacant lots into
fields of glory.

So many reasons to love the dandelion
. . . . . . . . . . . – dandelion wine
. . . . . . . . . . . – dandelion greens
. . . . . . . . . . . – yellow dye from flowers
Or use the entire plant to get magenta dye.

There are more. Every part of the dandelion
from flower to roots, can be used.
But the world doesn’t like mavericks.

Mavericks – dandelions or people –
disrupt the order of things,
make us think about things we’d rather ignore,
challenge us to question our values.
So mavericks have to go.

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An old man’s tragedy
Inspired by a real event
Poem by Jim Hoyle

I spilt some juice on the table top.
SHE LIked the pattern it made, and said:
“If you were younger, I’d say something
. . . . . . . .to you about that.”
“If I were younger and taller,
I’d definitely say something to you,”
. . . . . . . .I replied, with some unspoken
. . . . . . . .wishful meaning.
“Yes, it’s a pity, isn’t it ?” she offered,
. . . . . . . .with a wistful look.
But we went our different ways.
July and December are so far apart.

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