William Cullen Jr. The Bowler Rolls a Strike Releasing the ball his hand continues upward like he’s saluting the formation standing steadfast to the end. William Cullen Jr., a veteran who works at a non-profit in Brooklyn NY, has published in Camroc Press Review, Gulf Stream, Pirene’s Fountain, Right Hand Pointing, Spillway, Wild Goose Poetry […]
Read MoreChristina Veladota Self-Portrait as Clarissa Dalloway Flowers forgive us our fumbled years: I am mother to this illusion. What Insomnia Tells My Father Your voice is the loud hush of the night escaping as your grief’s late husbandry kicks at its fences. Deconstructing Sophia Wisdom is the fabric she tears apart with her teeth. Christina Veladota […]
Read MoreFern G. Z. Carr Jack Angry keys swing back and forth in the ignition as a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels catapults through the windshield. First published in Short, Fast & Deadly. FERN G. Z. CARR (www.ferngzcarr.com), is a member of the League of Canadian Poets who composes poetry in five languages and has been published extensively […]
Read MoreJeffrey Park By Degrees She always sleeps with protractor and compass on the bedside table, never knowing when a sudden fit of geometry will strike in the night. His Hands His aged hands are like well-used craftsman’s tools, fingers remembering every little twist and bend, their grasp both gentle and unyielding. Numeric Numbers pelt down from […]
Read MoreNikki Carr Lost Time at the Lake In your wood boat, I sat pondering the number of fish that would dash by laughing at your miscalculations. Nikki Carr was exposed to poetry in New York where she developed a writing style which shows a true passion for nature, mankind and everyday experiences.
Read MoreAnnie Bien From Lhasa to Bomdila I watch the newsreel of his procession, the Dalai Lama going to examinations, the parasol marker, the golden silk palanquin, the yak wearing brocade: removing your glasses you walk into the fog of an unknown world on horse, then foot, in black and white, without hearing an avalanche, the […]
Read MoreJanice D. Soderling Grönt En skimmerglans breder ut sig, öppnar knopparna i björkkronorna som om grönt vore rörelse, men på ekstammens norrsida vilar samma skimmer i mossan som om grönt vore väntan. Green A lustrous shimmer burgeons, opening the buds in the birch crowns, as if green was movement, but on the north side of […]
Read MoreDenise R. Weuve Chaisan A jilted lover counts her wrongs right to left, a Chinese scroll hung on a bedroom wall as a reminder that everyday can not be cherry blossom trees and origami cranes, because there will be days when feet are bound and the first born drowned. July Fourth I’m the kind of […]
Read More