February 2020

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View Issue vol. 11, no. 1
ISSN 2369-6516 (Print)
ISSN 2369-6524 (Online)

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

LeeAnn Wallage BrownRepeat

Phil Brown single use

Charles Bull When I die

Rachel Cooke Grapefruit Budlight

David DuStreet Light

Harry Garrison2020

Jim HoylePain

Scot JamiesonNow That You Cannot Hear Me

Scott Lynch violet primrose and ritual washing

Shallon MacKenzie Blessings

Anna MarenickIn the Moment

Violet RosengartenA Winter Poem

Nathaniel S. Rounds Graphite H(as) B(een)

Luke Stevens Ode on a Belizean Urn

Rod Stewart Winter Rain

Jasmin StofferFear not the Woods or Ocean Near

Blynn TeeftKnow What!

Barry WoodHeard/Unheard

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Winter Rain
Poem by Rod Stewart

Sweatin’ up a pig stink,
In my blimp soaked parka,
Totin’ my gale broke brollie,
Drawin’ a bitter grin, maybe,
Trompin’ in grey,
They say, less to shovel,
Smooth skatin’, when
A chill comes ‘round again.
Summer’s long cried over,
Oh Lord, I’m cussin’
What brilliant mind,
Ordered this slushie,
I’m not wavin’ back,
That honkin’ swervin’ caddy
Splashin’ Jack Frost
Drenched on the Rocks,
Across my chops.
But, yeah, I’m smilin’
Cause my honey’s
Got warm cocoa, maybe,
A candle bath a waitin’,
And some poor soul
Up north coast,
Got three feet of winter
Not a shin* load of rain.

*-edited by the author

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Blessings
Poem by Shallon MacKenzie

I am blessed and loved
By my beloved true
In a motion of desire
Leading all the way to you

I will be there for you
There’s a life of love
What I say is true
It comes from above

Count the stars in the sky
A blessing you’ll see
Let it take you high
And then come back to me

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A Winter Poem
Poem by Violet Rosengarten

I love winter
From the inside looking out,
At snow catching on the upside
Of branches, stems and withered flowers,
Hedges and evergreens,
Creating contrast,
Delighting the eye

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Street Light
Poem by David Du

A little light shines,
Guides those passing away from the dark
But yields to the sun

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Ode on a Belizean Urn
Poem by Luke Stevens

Although this urn I see before me
is devoid of any depicted people,
Images of a beautiful family
have etched themselves thereupon,
By my mind’s eye, derived from memories.
Two young girls, a baby too
Along with one little boy,
plus a robust young man,
Behind them,
an incredible woman and husband stand,
In front of their newly fashioned home.
The land with which they built upon,
Morphed from swamp to solid ground,
They threw trash into the wetland
until the earthy floor became strong.
And like the land they were dealt,
Trash underground,
Covered over with dirt,
Said family shines anew,
Having overcome the circumstances
that they were forced into.

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Graphite H(as) B(een)
Poem by Nathaniel S. Rounds

We are the pencil erasers
Harshly rubbed on grade school Carpet
We delight when they burn Themselves
Censuring thumbprints
Through friction

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Fear not the Woods or Ocean Near
Poem by Jasmin Stoffer

Here there is no silence 
Except the silence from within 
The trees gossip about your secrets 
And you can hear the grasses whisperin’ 

The ocean waves are waltzing 
As ocean waves tend to do 
The plovers on the seaside aren’t bothered 
They just keep passing through 

And the rocks and crags groan under you 
As you peer out to the sea 
From the forest talkin’ nonsense
About you and about me 

Perhaps you saw a mermaid 
She was out there singing songs 
Perhaps it was just a seal 
Enjoying the white capped throngs

But the ocean and the forest 
They are magic if you make ‘em 
They’ll hold your troubles and your joys 
Until you’re strong enough to take them 

And the faeries in the wood 
Fireflies and critters on a mission 
They’ll counsel you and give advice
But only if you listen 

So fear not the woods or ocean near
They only have one favour 
When walking amongst their magic 
Ensure you take care, and you savour 

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2020
Haiku by Harry Garrison

May Twenty-Twenty
be seen as positive,
and as sure as hindsight!

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violet primrose and ritual washing
Poem by Scott Lynch

quiet at first
the city dusted in new snow
a calm
our fifth floor perch
three wonderful walls of glass
favouring us views of
city harbour sea
twelve white tables
beginning to populate
here at Pavia
coffee percolating conversation
as sound splashes from every cup
rousing our roost
to the glory
of February mid-mornings
in such a place
where chocolate
cures all things
large and small
as we contemplate
beauty
new life
modesty
faithfulness
and virtue

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Know What!
Poem by Blynn Teeft

Ya know what 
you don’t get to control me anymore 
Ya know what 
you don’t get to tell me who I am 
Ya know what 
I deserve better than you 
Ya know what 
I don’t have to listen to you 
Ya know what 
I’m better without you 
Ya know what 
I forgive you 
Ya know what 
because I release you. 

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Heard/Unheard
Poem by Barry Wood

A heard indiscretion as soft as a whispered walk 
Triggered the lips of the gossip to talk 
The rumour mushroomed into, “I know what I see, 
but keep that between you and me.”

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In the Moment
Poem by Anna Marenick

How many sunsets have you missed 
Thinking about whether there is 
Food for dinner 
And whether the dress you want to wear tomorrow is clean 

How many meetings have you missed 
In your own head about 
Not really belonging here 
The dress doesn’t really fit 
And worrying that everyone will finally know 
You’re really not as smart as them 
While you calculate when to leave to beat traffic 

How many drives home have you missed 
Not noticing the wind in the trees 
Kids on bicycles while parents run behind 
You’re late for dinner again and we’ve got soccer tonight 
Oh God – not this song again 
Check your email one more time at the red light 

How many dinners have you missed 
Wondering whether you spend enough quality time
together 
Wolfing down food and giving one word answers 
Before we go our separate ways again 

How many quiet moments have you missed 
While you raced out, 
Desperate to catch the sunset.

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Now That You Cannot Hear Me
Poem by Scot Jamieson

Do you care for me? 
Why at the instant of 
my hearing them did not 
these words at once awaken 
a protest from my drowsing heart? 
But I could tell you 
that at last they have me up 
at least, though now’s the deep of 
night, and you are here asleep. 
Now that you cannot hear me, 
I want to say, to have said, 
“Was it not, will it not be, once 
and forever, in me to love you?” 
 – within the sense
that it is always now.
“But for love to sleep –” I think,
as I listen to the silent house, 
“ – is love like a body, that it needs 
to sleep to live?” No, I want 
to cry. Yet even my love of God 
does this. Is this how love dies –  
quietly in its sleep?
And it must take God, and    
only God must wake up  
in that deepest of nights. 
And He tells me to write, 

I love you, my dear one. 

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When I die
Poem by Charles Bull

When I die 
every morning 
on my cushion 
(it is my practice) 
in that quantum state 
between existence and nonexistence 
on the shore of the eternal now 
where every moment of my life 
is right here right now 
my heart breaks 
open to 
You. 

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Repeat
Poem by LeeAnn Wallage Brown

You are my song, called harm and habit. 
A lasting lifetime of repeated lyrics. 
Skipping and scratching and missing beats. 
Played over till the tears ruin the track. 

Set on Repeat… 

You are my lesson that books cannot teach. 
Chapter after chapter of dog warred pages. 
Flipping through as my fingers lick the pages. 
Read over and over again till the binding is brittle. 

Set on Repeat… 

You are my memory. 

Set on Repeat 

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Single Use
Poem by Phil Brown

getting rid of single use plastic 
an overdue idea but quite fantastic 
but what about single use days? 
is not using monday again 
just calendar malaise? 

single use guns could be more fun 
just touch the gun once and you’re done 
freedom gone forever just when you thought 
you were in charge and 
oh so very clever 

single use cattle are still a problem 
as carnivores love bbq beef 
with a glaze of molasses 
but think of the cows out in the pasture 
producing so many harmful gases 

why not single use clothes? 
standing in disposable paper 
we might strike quite the pose 
though it could get awkward if it rains 
and our soggy clothes slide down the drains 

and what about single use…..us? 
instead of family mourning our final fate 
why not just get plugged in 
at the science lab and regenerate? 
multi-use us without emotional fuss 

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Pain
Poem by Jim Hoyle

That long anticipated time arrived.                                
I came into her room; it seemed alive.                           
She invited me to sit, so I took a chair. 
We’d met before, but now she seemed aware, 
alive, with hint of impropriety. 
I felt a frisson of anxiety 
in case our plans might fail to coalesce. 
Then she approached, with flair and 
                                      swirling dress. 
Her glossy lips parted as she came near. 
With glass in hand, she said 
                                     with meaning clear: 
“You’re tense, relax; at first a little treat.” 
I sipped the drink. It was a trifle sweet, 
just as was her breath. Then, leaning close  – 
                                     Surprise ! 
She touched my cheek. 
                                    I looked into her eyes. 
Again a shiver to my very core 
as hip brushed thigh. 
                       She murmured comfort words 
with glowing lips; 
                      such beck’ning words I heard: 
“Let’s excorcise that nasty pain, that flaw.” 
As soon as said, she grasped my open jaw 
and suddenly with hardly any pain 
she pulled the tooth and set me free again. 

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Grapefruit Budlight
Poem by Rachel Cooke

green lights lit up the dark like christmas; 
your hands never left me, not once 
and it was like listening to my favourite song 
on repeat, the one that became ours 
my legs swung over you, my hands on the back 
of your neck. 
all i’ll be able to smell is grapefruit and 
happiness for a week 
all i’ll be able to remember is your hands, 
confident from apple whiskey and coke 
finding mine to hold in the dark 
and your eyes 
large and wondering and drunk, 
looking at me like a magic trick 
searching for me all night. 

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