View Issue as PDF vol. 15, no. 2
ISSN 2369-6516 (Print)
ISSN 2369-6524 (Online)
Scroll down to read all poems, or select the poem title to go directly to that poem. Select the author’s name to view a short biography (if supplied) and all poems by that author.
Novae Angliae – The Pain in Gaining
Charlene Boyce – February I am molasses
Morgan Brimacombe – A Poem for Spring
Janet Brush – Haikus for Winter
Burris Devanney – The Russian Press Gang Goes Door-to-Door in Siberia
Harry Garrison – 2024
Kathy Hamidovic – Restless 1970s Furnishings
Tim Horne – I Could Have Been So Much More For You
Valerie LeBlanc – Beach Walk
Barbara Lounder – Kssshhh
Madison Mackenzie – Midnight
Mikayla Marshall – Will you love me?
Matthew Murphy – Schrodinger’s Memory
Nargarjuna – Pinocchio’s Revenge
Brian Robinson – Snow Anywhere
Ian Van der Wee – I Love You, Bud
Laura Worth – living things
Snow Anywhere
For Petra
Poem by Brian Robinson
Snow in a cast — snow
On a page — snow in
A room — in the dark’s
Curtains and blinds — drawing
Its blanks — as is and/or
Between the lines — relying
On one shadow at a time —
Then all in all returning
From the hunt with little
To show — a thicket
Caught out in the thaw — vulnerable
As overkill — whole days reserved
For the low thunder of the ploughs
I Love You, Bud
Poem by Ian Van der Wee
Home again
and I’ve been away so long
that I forgot about these boys,
these boys who only know one way
to let love in:
a little move to the outside,
leaving space for a drop pass and a
shot up the middle.
Kssshhh
Poem by Barbara Lounder
In his diary, he wrote of skating.
First, nervous steps, and
faltering, falling.
In time he glides, spins
and skates with her, in tandem.
Right then left,
swinging wide and low over the frozen lake.
She skates for the sound of it
cutting the ice into ruts and gouges
and finally, to powder.
Kssshhh
Kssshhh
Kssshhh
February I am molasses
Poem by Charlene Boyce
Sunlight, oxygen, an atmosphere decaying
but nevertheless, hospicing
democracy and rationality
and compassion cannot
Leach out the lassitude, bone-deep.
Concrete gravity chewinggumsoleboots
soulanemia, stillness achieved but not
mindful, not relaxedawake, just anxiousopeneyedsleep
paralysed
Into this lumpen form.
Sit
Stare
Barely breathe, admire
The hustle required to do
things.
I could write, I proffer into the quiet. I could eat. I could sleep.
No amount of could uncoils the accelerator,
gummed with polarizeddebate gunked
with whatismypurpose
Bound by whatiseventhepoint
A spider crosses the ceiling, slowly
I Could Have Been So Much More For You
Poem by Tim Horne
That thought weighs down my heart this early morn—
“More true, more brave, more focused and less torn;
less dazzled by the world with its paltry crumbs.”
To sink there? No! He gives me time to ponder
The coming days, with promised hope and wonder
Regret, a clinging morass—impedes, benumbs
Dawn’s gift and calling? to remind of new beginning
A hint of endless time, where heaviness starts thinning
Why I Wrote this Poem
My poem arises from the spiritual reality of a constant tension between who I am and who I want to be. It ends with hope, with the entrance of light and the relief of guilt’s weight.
Haikus for Winter
Poem by Janet Brush
Last rose of summer
Hoping to outlive winter
Clings to withered branch.
Light snow on rooftops
North wind tears last leaves from trees
Winter here at last.
Cold winter morning
Peanuts in shell my offering
To hungry blue jays.
Soft gentle snowfall
Mutes din of busy city
With blanket of white.
Beach Walk
Poem by Valerie LeBlanc
Receding wet sand
Shapes curls and furls of the waves
Up Curl
Up Splash
UpThe Pain in Gaining
Poem by Novae Angliae
Finding ways to live
Feels so useless
What I would give
If I could care less
I was once a shell
No name or soul
I became aware, then fell
In a place where I’m in control
The problem lies
In the world around me
No compromise
Crying banshee
Now how do I live
With a skill so useless
With nobody to give
They couldn’t care less
living things
Poem by Laura Worth
the whole world is alive around you
are you listening?
can’t you hear it?
The Russian Press Gang Goes Door-to-Door in Siberia
Poem by Burris Devanney
A hand rapped sharply on the door.
Or was it a rifle, tap, tap, tap?
I’ll get it, said the wife, you stay back.
You’re the target. They’ve not come for me.
He stepped into the narrow closet,
her dresses hanging to the floor.
She opened the porch door just a crack.
Who is calling? she asked lightly.
Who by fire, who by flood,
who by kinship, who by blood,
who by heart-ache, who by heart-break,
if not mine? Tell me who and why.
Five Russians at her door,
recruiting fighters for Putin’s war.
Ah, but he’s not here, I cannot lie,
gone to war, but way too old, an easy target,
quite insane. He won’t be back.
This is Asia, it’s not Russia, not Ukraine.
My man is neither, he is neutral,
yet a fighter born for trenches,
doesn’t care which side he’s on,
likes defending, likes to attack, but he is old
and won’t be back. Don’t you see?
Can I make you boys a cup of tea?
When they left, her husband
stepped from hiding. You make me proud
to be your man, smartest wife in all the land.
Yes, I will have that cup of tea with you.
Schrodinger’s Memory
Poem by Matthew Murphy
I can’t remember
What? I don’t know
Perhaps best left forgotten
A playground in the snow
It’s hard to account for every flake in the globe
When shaken or stirred, I’m sure I’ll recall
For now, I make angels while skating on top of it all
Pinocchio’s Revenge
Poem by Nargarjuna
Did you find the answers you were looking for,
tearing down walls to catch the
spiders in the floorboards?
I see you’re riddled here,
bullet holes and blowing hair;
it’s like a thunderstorm
screaming loud as it disappears!
Tell me more of what I couldn’t know,
proper words punctuate stagnant air.
Is this what writing’s for?
Convince yourself for what it’s worth.
As Bodhidharma left without a word.
2024
Haiku by Harry Garrison
Twenty Twenty-Four
is a technological,
computer wonder!
Will you love me?
Poem by Mikayla Marshall
She has the body of a woman.
Curves that kill,
eyes that tell a story,
skin that feels like silk in my hands.
A kiss that is intoxicating.
Her mind, accommodating.
And because of that,
I will be forever waiting
for a touch that tastes so sweet.
She is the definition of what I need.
A Poem for Spring
Poem by Morgan Brimacombe
Why plant the seeds,
Nourish the soil,
Feed the sprouts,
Sing to the sun, and
Tend to the dreams
Of a whole new, strong life
With all new roots,
New colours, and
New friends
If you are only to cover it back up with dirt
Every time it pokes out its head?
Midnight
Poem by Madison Mackenzie
cloudless
we’ll never meet again
flutters on my lips
all I remember…
if she would ever admit
catastrophic kiss
the moon
always chasing the sun
Restless 1970s Furnishings
Poem by Kathy Hamidovic
Chair sits solid,
while I slump, sour,
then bored oak bumps
against my bones.
I lean back hard
into Chair’s bespoke pokes,
as stale air dispenses
dry, dismal syllables.
Falling flat on wooden surface
—a sudden whack,
a worn ruler tries
to measure things, firmly.
I quick-rigid-listen,
until the air again stills,
until monotone notes
float me inwards, drifting
to warm white sands,
into breezy beach calm,
until swaying palms
begin wrestling with my chin.
Until Chair starts again
with Desk joining in.
I jabby-jab an elbow downward
—painfully sighing.
Wiggling lower limbs
to avoid a bruised trunk,
my eyes ask Ceiling,
“When will this ever end?”
Why I Wrote this Poem
Inspired by my days as a restless, slender kid in the 1970s, this poem reflects a time when teacher-centered learning prevailed and student comforts were often ignored, making daydreaming an essential escape.
Open Heart Forgery 