August 2019


View Issue vol. 10, no. 6
ISSN 2369-6516 (Print)
ISSN 2369-6524 (Online)

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

Maximillion ArchibaldRed Sea

Melissa BolandNeptune’s Nectar

LeeAnn Wallage BrownDress…

Normand CarreyEzra’s Instructions for Loving Without Bruising

Harry Garrison“Wash Shoe!” Or Not To “Wash Shoe!”

Kathy HamidovicSurvivor by the Sea

Jari-Matti Helppi Window Blasts

Jim HoyleNight Time

Scott Lynch July at the Lake

David Mac EachernEarly Riser

Harry Wayne Mahpro cra$ti nation pro gressin’

Richard S. PayneGo Fly a Kite

Robert John SchwarzmannTempo

Rod StewartThe Tire

Cybel Sweetgrass Chickadee’s Reflections

Mary UptonKinship Ties

Gordon YoungGift of Shadows

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Red Sea
Poem by Maximillion Archibald

the parting
of the Red Sea
is the Bible’s
would you
be so bold
as to run
your finger
the water shelf
as you cross?
I should
in advance
no miracles
to see here
just the small
green hill outside
my window
a dark blue tarp
pulls across
the sky

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Night Time
Poem by Jim Hoyle

I like pajamas, pajamas are for me.
They’re easy and relaxing, comfy as can be.
PJs for sleeping; PJs for lounging;
not for carousing, just around the housing.
Some like shorts and a tee-shirt too,
but I like pajamas, red or blue,
or sexy black silky ones, clinging to your skin,
look very smart, they’re see-through thin.
Light in Summer, warm when it’s colder,
snuggle up tight, shoulder to shoulder.
Baby-dolls for some, or a pretty nighty;
then you’ll think you’re with Aphrodite.
All being said, it ain’t all bananas,
‘cause I just told you, I like pajamas

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Survivor by the Sea
Poem by Kathy Hamidovic

I hide many eras in my belly. My children,
Keep building me up despite my age.
My clogging arteries, they still keep flowing.
My timepiece holds such history in its hands.

My heart is full of hidden chambers. My nature:
Explore my limits to know my growth.
My arm reaches out to greet each sunrise.
I stand steady; my body: both fluid and stone.

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Chickadee’s Reflections
Poem by Cybel Sweetgrass

Me, the little chickadee, I was always around,
But you, seldom laid eyes on me

Taken by your over-busy lifestyle,
You did not pay much attention to me

One day, you slowed down your pace,
And we suddenly became friends

I have wings and even though you do not have any,
That certainly does not bother me

Friendship flies above appearances,
And above circumstances

Because now we have our morning rendez-vous
And we have weaved a beautiful friendship

You feed me well,
And I sing it to you so swell

We will always remember,
All our magical moments spent together

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Window Blasts
Poem by Jari-Matti Helppi

In Memoriam

The creak of the rocking chair leg
against the throw rug by the dialogue fire,
and the glass of whiskey neat
stoking a reflective mind,
was soothing to Chopin’s vinyl
playing on its spinning complement
as a brewing tempest made itself known
by the shake of window blasts
rattling melodic piano keys of recorded art.

“Art repeats, life does not,” toasted the whiskey
as rocker’s music added chair creaks to wake
and the amber glass became more,
stoking a reflective mind
on sad passings of breath from ‘mortal coils’
and the happier brewing tempest shown,
as each we live and to the mist abide
while window blasts continue
rattling melodic piano keys of recorded art.

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Kinship Ties
Poem by Mary Upton

Kinship ties ebb and flow
Like shifting sands become depleted
When pride and time assault these ties
And kinship love flows to demise

It is this death that we all mourn
And wonder why this shift has torn
Ties that bound us so securely
Yet now part us so assuredly

Can this love be rekindled?
For it is of such import
When life be short
To know these ties
Once adrift, take shift
And come ashore
To unite us, in kinship joy once more

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July at the Lake
Poem by Scott Lynch

leaf rustle
like a gentle waterfall
clouds wispy and playful as apparition
even the jet stream’s importance is transitory

cricket and dragonfly rule the land and air

while crows cast aspersions of unrest

soon a solitary eagle
bald and brazen justifies
the crowing cacophony
in a lightening swoop and splash
talons direct a now flying fish
eagle and crow fly out of sight

and the allusion of falling water
returns with the breeze

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The Tire
Poem by Rod Stewart

Don’t get me on
About déjà vu,
My whole life
As it is,
Spinning in nothing
But circles inside circles,
Around and around
In a breakneck blur,
To get myself there
In time to see my shadow
Slip away into smoke
All over again.

I used to be pumped
To tear away wild,
To the dark side of nowhere,
Perched on a moonlit shoulder,
Among murmurs and moans,
Mixed among cricket songed air.
Hot breaths, cold asphalt,
City lights and stars
That blinked back at us,
All blown into dust
Of a memory, maybe,
That lingered longer
Than laid rubber and sweat,
On this one time go around
That we’ve been riding.

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Go Fly a Kite
Haiku by Richard S. Payne

Love flying a kite,
and feeling God’s gentle tug,
a divining thrill!

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Poem by LeeAnn Wallage Brown

What’s wrong? He keeps asking.
Wrong? You say.
Why, the mountains are still left to climb.
The rivers left to fish.

This agony is spilling from my guts.
Cutting me open. Spilling out empty words.


Do you call to me when the moon is home.
Stay and play where the sun warms my Earth.
Words are weapons that slice at my head.
Sticks and stones.
Breaking all my bones.
My muscles are weak. Left heavy.
Weighed down by rusty chains.

I need to escape the dragon.
With fiery breath.
My knight is no longer.

I am a damsel in this damn dress.

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Early Riser
Poem by David Mac Eachern

Looking forward to mutual bind
Through word and visual art
Window opened, view of mind
Facing wilderness, the daring part

East granted sun to rise
Into eye of grazing deer
Brightening by plan, social cries
Sky over all, storm clear

Where picture of horizon shined
Wildlife adventure having its say
Exploring land, love to find
Beauty ranging each blossoming day

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Neptune’s Nectar
Poem by Melissa Boland

Neptune’s nectar pours
drips, flows.
Like wine around a bowl
its legs lace my window.

Birds, animals, plants… Rejoice!
Humans, by contrast, wish for another choice.

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“Wash Shoe!” Or Not To “Wash Shoe!”
Rectangle Poem by Harry Garrison

“Wash Shoe!” Or Not To “Wash Shoe!”
Rectangle Poem by Harry Garrison
Some people say there are alternate
universes, and that everything that
can happen, does happen, somewhere.
(It’s in Star Trek, and elsewhere.)
Is it only our decisions that shape
the universe we’re in, or do things
independent of decisions cause this
universe to differ from other ones?
I have fallen while skating on ice,
or walking on an icy sidewalk, more
than a few times in my life so far.
Is there a universe out there where
it’s never happened, not even once?
Each sneeze I have prevented merely
by telling the person I was sitting
with that I might sneeze - has that
ever happened to you? – actually is
sneezed another place: “Wash shoe!”

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Ezra’s Instructions for Loving Without Bruising
Poem by Normand Carrey

Phase One (Bodies)
Think about Janis Joplin…
Now she was the greatest lovin an bruisin
woman alive.
Unfortunately medicated herself
to death with Southern Comfort;
Lower the entire weight of your body over mine,
Stay there for a while.
Don’t do anything, just relax.

Phase Two (in orbit)
Now let me pass my hands over your spine.
Apply your supple lips to mine.
Squeeze me, apply more gradual force,
Love is not only physical, (it is mental also).
Are you relaxed, is your fear going away?

(entering) Phase Three
Adjust your position,
Make yourself comfortable.
There’s a certain rhythm you need to focus on,
(like this, like music).

Phase Four (a collision)
Linger a few moments more;
Get off when you feel like it.
Stay in bed, relax, hold my hand
I’ll try not to bleed too hard, (next time).

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Poem by Robert John Schwarzmann

Time, a fine mist, near-microscopic,
Primordial fog drifting in
From the cold grey sea.
Time, raindrops pattering
In microseconds, an urgent rhythm.
The swollen river of time
Always rushing forward,
Cresting its banks, carrying debris.
Finally, the slow oceanic waves,
Thundering onto shore and back.
Majestic, beyond time,
Existing without end.

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Gift of Shadows
Poem by Gordon Young

It is light that throws
Upon the living, shadows.
Shadows cast upon us…
…Cast among us.
It is in the darkness of shadows
The soul dilates and grows.
This is the gift of shadows.
Let not wit or honest doubt
Put out,
That which throws,
Upon the living,
For in the absence of light nothing grows.

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pro cra$ti nation pro gressin’
Poem by Harry Wayne Mah

pro cra$ti nation pro gressin’
Poem by Harry Wayne Mah
inside grainS of hourgla$$ . . .
. . $omewheN to cook
. . to write
. . tight pig$kin $piral
. . run ivory keys
. . perhaps canvas.ab$tract that offset$
the $ofa
ju$t $o.
but grain$ aplenty
always aplenty
calculate 𝛑
for Guine$$ Record.
. . abacu$ await$
in $unlit shadow$
of duS+ . .

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