Hand Measure by Micah Dorn
There is the grief in my left palm, a pulp of heavy lamentations; The ‘Ohs’, the groans, the sighs that sigh away a pithy thought. Webbed crows etched in the skin of my fist, my curled hand, Knuckles bearing up against the contours, cuneiform edges grazing in red, wet contusions into the right palm. The thumb is retracted, Stroking the hope which lies there to sleep, to wake in...
Waves of us By Kristina V Griffiths
Electricty upon my finger tips, Everytime dark clouds - Take over the skylight, Colossal claps of thunder Roll out like tumble weeds, Let move forward, And walk upon the sodden sands. Red hot anguish pierces the surface, Of the calm ocean waves, Passionate as sin, Faster than the wind, Looking into your eyes, Trying to make sense Time after time, Tonight at times like these- I should be over the...
When he decides to write… by Shafaq Noor
Sharpened pencils. A whole box. Same length. Yellow. Old desk. Cedar. Aged with thoughts. Through the years. Many meanderings. Late nights. Long hours. Scratching ears. Furrowed brow. Stale coffee. Out of filters. Time ticks by. Clocks, a background hum. Pages crumpled. Outlined. Underlined Words flow. Fall. Rise. Slow. Revealing.Wonderstruck. With little luck. Frantic scribbling. Pipe...
Death in the Afternoon by Abhimanyu Kumar Singh
Summer came suddenly this year. Like a bird of prey Swooping down. Or young death. The air breeds lust. Sunlight bounces off the streets Like a wet tennis ball. Evil walks quietly Blowing smoke rings Through the luminous haze Of the still-born day. Heat rises slowly Like the chronic anxiety Of the eternally hopeful. (end)_
Pater Noster by Douglas Dunn
In memory of you, long dead, I hang in this yet unsung balance. I know you what you are So you, in return, acknowledge my skill at seeing through your facade. Lend me your eyes, dear friend, I shall present you with a paper ticket (which you must immediately give back for safe-keeping). I may be cracking up inside, but they still believe my image. Switch the gas heater off now, let’s save our...
A Man Approaches a Casket by Jeffrey Lee Owens
old hands have seen so much. ragged gloves with jagged bones hold a face with sunken fingernails and make sounds like paper.
Last summer... by Rafferty
I met Brazilians, Argentinians, Americans, Germans, Italians, Iranians, Mozambicans, Kenyans and Scousers. I ate, drank and smoked with all of them and met the realisation that my mistrust of the Spanish was universal. I saw sunsets on beer-strewn piers, sunrises from cold Berlinese penthouses and crying Britons bombarded with firecrackers, because they were crying. I made friends with...
Like You by Christina Issa
intuitively, i am yours without speech or gestures of the body like plants belonging to soil and letters belonging to words or the night’s embrace of dark and a crowded elevator to silence or like a song to the lark and how foam goes with an ocean a cliff’s commitment to its edges or how temptation belongs to boredom or neurons to our guts and how...
I'm Not Sure by Katie Mcilvenny
I like people who know their insides All coiled and misshapen from intoxication All manner of men Be him homeless Faithless Has a problem with an atheist Whatever makes him praise with us The blind and aimless wanderers A following who feel a flinching Sense of moral contradiction A mangled array of junkies, uni flunkies, young mummies A final summary Of youth, frowning at where, why and how.
being a poet doesn't seem all that ridiculous. by...
I am a true believer in speaking to others in their language to have successful communication. This includes rude or polite language. My hands are the emptiest spaces. But I’m no angel. no morning bluet, mountable linnet, mumbling nun. i feel ignored, Every time because she couldn’t focus(fuckass) on porntube i come from howling...
[…]I cry NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears And look, has made a man of dust of a man of flesh.
Ecstatic like Jazz by Richard Miller
Winter rain falls Ecstatic, like jazz Upon narcoleptic rooftops Penetrating This leaden-eyed town With sensuous bursts Of bebop rapture The resounding squall Of frenzied horns The delicate shimmer Of piano keys The throbbing prosody Of the bass And of the drums Wake up! Leaden-eyed town! In your...
Smokes by Otto
Have you got a spare cigarette? No, because that’s not a thing. That’s not anything This fallacy of yours, it makes no sense You’ve been too quick to draw water before inspecting the spring For contaminated concepts And indigestible abstractions Why would I carry a spare cigarette? A pack of ten, but I’ll only ever smoke nine That’s ridiculous You’re inventing things If...
Rash Thought by Cassandra Parks
He stared at the screen and began typing: Dearly beloveds, I regret to inform you about my imminent departure. I wish I could have warned you sooner but to be honest this new situation caught me completely off guard as well. To my dear friends I ask that you keep me fondly in your memory and hold true to yourselves. I wish I could say I won’t be gone for long, but the reality is I will...
Crawdaddies by Ben Taylor
The sedimentary matter, having been dredged, is now disturbed. It is roiled and it swirls menacingly. A darkly kaleidoscopic vision which eclipses the fleshy tones of the sky above. Soon it settles along the river floor. Crayfish covered in mud brandish their ragged claws at each other. They revel under this layer of silt, scuttling blindly and anointing themselves with muck. Antennae...
Irish by S. Allaire Masse
“Me Irish eyes ain’t smilin’” I’m as “broke as church mouse now” Since O’bama took the White House, our fate is just to bow To a man who believes himself a king, with a kingdom of peasants has he He thinks his feat is to spend every dime and, change the “land of the free.” Don’t say you don’t believe me, haven’t you seen him on Fallon and Jay? He and Michelle think they have the right, to be on...
The Line, The Song by Elan Webster
It was as if you painted with light, with the gestures of your hands as you describe how, when we moved up country, for the snow, and you describe the time we left the others and found ourselves beyond the ridgeline south facing, the silence, a pasture of snow, the shadows blue, a hard winter, the shadows darkening, the moon crescented so thin as to appear a harp string and as you describe what...
Tree Child by Jade Clark
I try to get my child to suckle. “It is no good Connie, it is no good.” They say. “No good for whom?” I scream. “No good for whom?” They do not flinch at my shrieks. “My Bubo, my sweet Bubo.” I stroke his face. “He isn’t your Bubo,” they say, ‘Just a doll, just a doll.” I have a child who lives in the trees. I try to tell them, but they sneer. “Tree child, eh?” “Yes.” “We’ll make sure the...
Never Let You Go by Simon Marshall
The window seat was a safe place. From there, almost the entire spectrum of English landscape was visible. The only view the ledge lacked, was the imposing polygons of a cityscape… which Marc didn’t much mind losing. From his vantage point, the countryside exposed its beauty in full. Vast, tumbling turtle-shell hills comprised of verdant fields knitted together with hedgerows and sycamores were...
A List at 5:30 PM, in class: by Solange Statsevich
1. Thirty minutes early to class. 2. I stare at this gorgeous brown wall. 3. It is kept company by three white walls, and shines in its distinct glory. 4. Okay, okay, enough with the crazy talk. 5. But I happen to notice 6. two other people here, 7. also quite early 8. even earlier than me. 9. Alright, alright, enough with the crazy talk 10. Sitting here, waiting for my writer teacher to grace his...
lone park bench by Tim Heron
lone park bench between two trees snow-capped and glorious in the winter sun bed to a bearded sage with no roof but the zodiac haven to young lovers whose forbidden kisses shake the foundations of all that is confidant to an old woman wise and wrinkly and weak and beautiful tree trunks gnarled but beneath still very much green your naked boards are the threshold of Shangri-La
let us not concoct healing potions for the dead, nor invent new colours for blind eyes.
The Terrible Tantrum Kid by Joe Abbitt
The terrible tantrum kid makes his way down the road, snivelling into his duffel coat and huffing at his mother. To him she’s always been broccoli and dastardly brussels sprouts, sunday night baths, early bedtimes and time to turn the lights out. The terrible tantrum kid makes his way down the road, volleying imaginary goals and tucking pieces of his probably-peanut-butter...
Everyone had always faded... by K. Green
Everyone had always faded. Except you who foiled every trap my character set to capture tiresome things before they progressed. You could have done it blind, and you did, not knowing me or where I had lain them down, or carved them out. The little things I had done were not lost or brushed away. They glistened in the light and you studied the strings like fine silk because I had set them to...
21st Century Oil Painting by Joe Abercrombie
Health and safety regulations, terms and conditions apply, license plates and registration, omniscient electric eyes. The crimson sand on the pavement, the remnants of broken glass, minimum wage enslavement, a blazing abandoned car. A married man’s wondering hands, the midnight street meat market, subjective portraits of the damned, the lumps of bile in vomit. What bliss is there in...
Whimper by JS Rafaeli
I saw the feeblest minds of my generation elevated to greatness Smug, complacent, clothed in money Strolling through caucasian parks at noon Hopelessly window-shopping for things forever lost. And this is no solution. This is a cheap joke, and a bad one. And I am as guilty as all the rest. And this is the way the world ends.
Cairns by Emily Tripp
Sink in, down, and the wind is her forgotten voice. This story seat allows others original death. Stacked rocks are like faceless observers, or cast-out dice. No sky above, nor moor outside - alone between time’s teeth. Is this what it is to live? to crawl into a light between God and your head, all hope dead - as lovers at night.
Untitled by Dan Bnntt
you were born like a starling nested from the world but your blood is sap only and like rainfall your love is torrential, and green.
Our Mecca by Cassandra Dallett
Runaways In NYC we met Johnny a patch over one eye tall, dirty blonde spikes, heroin physique He was returning bottles for change like us to buy beer across from CBGBs from a liquor store behind thick plexi-glass. He told us to jump the turnstile and come hang out at his room a small TV, a thin bedspread he made us a tray of Saltines with cheese To Sir With Love was playing a movie he loved I had...
Bren Gunner by J.M. Medeiros
Trapped in molecules of grey, his voice had the weight of rain in winter. Its timbre became thick and syrupy after too much cheap booze and cigarettes. Pursed lips leaked slurred syllables. From his dour, gap-toothed grin, he laughed in another language while a slurry of spittle and scotch bucketed down his chin. Jimmy Brae drank at the pub and died in the Fall. He found death first in...
Ending by Douglas Dunn
How easy it would be to slide a thin dark razor blade across the cold marble of this arm. Suicide seduces. I will pay my debts, the wolves at the door, with the red rubies that pour from my slitted skin. The haunting mockers With their pinstriped lobster claws can no longer clip me, pinning me to their tasteful wallpaper with pessimistic practicalities. I end. Nothing more will hurt. The...
Girl in a Blanket by Debojit Dutta
A bead had parted with the large curtain that hung lowly touching the floor of our drawing room. We walked close to it and tried to measure its sound. It fell once and tottered for some time on the surface, lost itself below the large sofa — a four-seater, largest of the three we had. Beneath its enormous existence it was always dusk. Its feet were very low. So low, that not even half of our...
There Had Once Been a Fantasy by Joshua Wagonblast
She would read all day. She thought it was calming, in contrast to the woods, the spa, or the beach… especially the beach. She could find all those scenarios in here novels anyhow, she deliberated. She began to ruminate a lot recently. She would delve into her own thoughts and become lost within them, trapped like a genie in a bottle, but free to explore. Everything was abstract within her...
Garden City. by Jack Cooper
In an attempt to connect us with the outside – they have placed a little tinsel down the side of our windows – to reflect gaudy headaches. Elegant displays. We are liable to make many points. Expect us to stop passersby with fresh complaints over C.B. radio. As drivers pass satellite instructions over open windows, Inhaling the night & the choking diesel of two stations –...
Half-Dead, Half-Alive by Veronica Guaranda
half-dead half-alive I lie in papers with symbols unknown in languages broader than life itself. What is death? What is life? half-dead half-alive with a caffeine overdose and zombie eyes. What is death? What is life? half-dead half-alive I lie amongst books with scents of vanilla in languages broader than life. What is death? What is life? half-dead half-alive with...
Brutal Reality by Stephen Elliott
Cease to exist In this beautiful disease Cannot face this pantomime Where we paint upon our faces Pretty smiles for the masses Yet I cannot call you mine So dear love I shall decline To fight this life upon the line We cannot win this losing game I can no longer take the shame And deal with all the pain That comes storming Hand in hand With loving him When he loves her…
Streetlamps by Alex Knowles
I believe you, like a child When you say everything is going to be alright, With your crooked smile Smile wet with whisky, Those wicked, wicked eyes Stay on me All night. I’m sitting at the bar, laughing, Clutching my crutches Johnnie black and Jack, While you snap the strings of your guitar To one of those sad songs, About love, About us. The bartender fills my glass So that my heart is not...
Take off your clothes. by Megan Purdy
Take your clothes off, Let me see your soft lines, Smell your skin, Take off your clothes, Let me hold your hand, Play and bite your neck, Take off your clothes, Love me, love me And let’s dance, slow, hot and together.
Mama's Boy by Joseph Harwick
I am not T.S. Eliot. I’m not even one of those guys who sits around and writes Hallmark cards every day. My dreams are vaginas and dollar signs. I am the most uninteresting man in the world. I don’t normally write poems, but when I do, I prefer to write narcissistically self-deprecating garbage about not being able to write; or how I was born in Florida to a mother addicted to...
The Rabbit in the Nighttime: Part 2 by Wesley T....
Rabbit stumbles upon a shallow grave under a willow tree. He pays his respects in the moonlight and picks a bouquet of flowers which he lays in the soft dirt. Rabbit hears a harp playing in the distance, and follows the sound for miles. THe music leads Rabbit to Deaths front door, where he sits on his porch playing the blues. Rose bushes weave around the wrought iron fence that surrounds Deaths...
Gently I reached for my shoe... by Theo Camacho
Gently I reached for my shoe It got suck in a puddle A puddle of mud I cried I wept I sobbed For hours Days Even weeks passed by. But it was only yesterday I lost my shoe in the mud. It’s been only a day since. The man lent me a helping hand in the pouring rain. I guess it was the first and the last. I said Goodbye, Dad.
To This City by Sam Howell
To the ones who have glimpsed this city stripped down to the urban bones the Eye is blind to, who launched pentameters and all manner of pocketsized poetries to prosaic skies, unrolling a.m. highs across the new river to the beat readers, late students of Kerouac and Ginsberg, who saw beauty in booming fields of bleak brick to the illegally expressed, criminal masterpieces of the can and mind...
1 by John Daniel Thieme
Distant, in the glow of dust, burning the sweet geometry we have come to learn—come to rely upon— unravels. We forget that we belong to each other, and a kiss is a mere tangent—the few kisses of the moon’s nimble light we thought we felt before an absence. But what we wanted once held us here. In this, we need only to let each other go, let each other learn by going, to let each thing—those...
anticipating the fall by Omar Mooro
I crawl across the bridge in a hashish trance. Passed old men selling beans and bread in plastic bowls, under billboards inciting Pepsi drinking and Kentucky chickens. The fog of the city rests like a blanket above the buildings. Horns blare and banners wave from the windows, car windshields painted stripes of red, black and white. Patient fishermen sit on the rails, legs dangling over the...
Letter To My Mother (after waiting 2 years) by...
teeth pulled. need second job. have to file taxes. lucien carr is dead. april had her baby. marsha says everyone had a baby. josh is flying to seattle for heroin. working forty hours. when did it all get so grown up? i have a few fish they still swim. the city is cold. it’s often gray for many days. music makes me laugh. painkillers louder.
Sordid By Joseph Louis
Perpetual trier a ghost like pale urban downpours and a gulf in purity A vibrant intellect a dull beauty incessant consumer alcoholic snare devoid of character plentiful majesty a body gripped with aches and pains.