(i.)
Pure
Standing under the downpour
of a cold shower trying to scrub away this
dull movement that spreads within me darkly.
Even the water is disgusted by my failures,
abandoning me for the moist escape of the plug hole.
(ii.)
Dental Care
Flossing my teeth, I noticed her toothbrush
still there in the mug on the sink.
I picked it up,
feeling the bristles rough underneath
the flesh of my thumb &
dropped it in the trash
knowing she’d never use it again.
(iii.)
It’s Time to Go Home
There’s a rent dodging fool
called Love in my heart with a
loaded .38 in his fist &
a bullet-riddled target in sight but
the last train is at the final station.
The lights snap off one by one,
I can’t remember where I left my coat.
(iv.)
OCD Dinner Date
I notice the finger smudges on the surface of the table.
Listening to the buzzing fan circulating the dusty air.
A water stain a smirk on a fork.
Someone on a table across the way snorts and sniffs.
I’ve lost my appetite but will grin through dinner
until the check comes, go home and shower.
Stephen J. Golds was born in London, U.K, but has lived in Japan for most of his adult life. He enjoys spending time with his daughters, reading books, traveling, boxing and listening to old Soul LPs. His novel Say Goodbye When I’m Gone will be released by Red Dog Press in October 2020 and another novel Glamour Girl Gone will be released by Close to The Bone Press January 2021
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
Poetry.
The Color of a Snuffed Flame & Poems by Ryan J. Davidson
(i.)
Freedom of Fences
Dear _____, I lust her—though
she cannot know. It’s a painful thing—
a tightness of the chest. I keep having to stop
myself from ending each email
with “love, R”. But appearances
being what they are—I end with “best”,
but I know what I mean—so there’s that.
(ii.)
Fountain Statue
When it was still years ago—
before I saw that girl
with a flower in her ear; before
that flower grew—
I missed a summer day.
My broken English stands better
than my unwhistling lips and tonight
I meet a German poet
I’ve never heard. He’s a park
statue I can touch and feel the shoulder curve of his
bronze rather than the fountain statues whose jagged edges—
or if they’re soft it’s only the mollification
of time and distance—I can only feel
with my eyes. The ones I walk in circles around
wishing to walk on water. I took a photo of the tin-can moon
electrified by lightning
to understand the part of me that’ll go to this meeting
in the name of—it rained in Munich today.
(iii.)
The Color of a Snuffed Flame
Woken by a trumpet sounding.
There are things
we’re meant to make, some
less definite than knots and a box. I watched
a Boeing 747—there was a girl
who taught me to do that—and thought
of the 369 lives in it and those
stories. This is too much; people have their minutes
which added together equal a life
and all the plots and coincidences that live therein.
The butterfly house in Vienna
was beautiful though hot, small
and expensive. Filled with kids
more interested in the fish,
parents who wished their kids
would look at the butterflies,
and one woman taking pictures
of a dead butterfly. Tomorrow I’m
going to a fair to win a stuffed animal.
Bio: Ryan J. Davidson’s first book, Under What Stars, was published in 2009 by Ampersand Books. His second collection, Statues Need Stories, was published in 2019 by CyberWit. He is Assistant Professor of Humanities and Comparative Inquiry at Habib University in Karachi, Pakistan.
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
A Wintry Postcard of Manhattan in Motion. A Poem by Richard L Weissman
Last night, this homeless needle-eyed buzzard
with time-wearied, deep-chiseled features
bleak hovered shivering relentless
round warmth of the 86th Street Station’s Lotto shop.
His blue cold, street-grimed fingers
printed paper coffee cup and shivering kaiser roll
so I gifted him my old black winter coat.
This morning he nodded mid makeshift hovel,
in under twelve hours,
my coat was transfigured,
tailored to perfect fit his junk-torn world.
The downtown 4 train floats effortlessly this morning,
fast neath black plaster peelings of ceiling,
ever winding above rat poisoned third rail tracks
all warps into backdrop as downtown mountains up.
Crescendoing dark scent of hungry ghosted greed
as drab suited Wall Streeters hibernate (like bears)
till New Year’s in.
Simultaneously, this life-worn Euro-trashed chic
eyes me with contemplative melancholy,
her scar marred beauty
cracked mirroring
our Maiden Lane drama
of bleak mediocrity.
Bio:
Richard L Weissman has written fiction since 1987.
In 2000, his theatrical play, “The Healing” was selected by Abdingdon Theatre for a staged reading Off-Broadway.
Richard is the author of two Wiley Trading titles. His second book, Trade Like a Casino was selected as a Finalist for the 2012 Technical Analyst Book of the Year Award.
In 2016, Mr. Weissman completed his historical novel in the tradition of magical realism, “Generations”.
In 2020 his poem, “Mountain Bird and Loquat” was selected as the grand prize winner of the Florida Loquat Literary Festival.
In addition to hosting, “In Our Craft or Sullen Art” – a biweekly poetry radio talk show, Richard participates in live spoken word events throughout the U.S.
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
On Never seeing a Blue Whale. A Poem by Bernard Pearson
If the fetch of death
Should come before
I see you neighbour,
Breaching in the pacific vast,
Forgive me, for in my
Book of Wonders
I once read that a man
Could stand upright
In the tunnel of your veins.
If only we had not stood straight at all
Then the best of nature would ever hear
Whale to whale across
The great, unsullied , ocean , softly call.
© Bernard Pearson
Bio
BERNARD PEARSON: His work appears in many publications, including; Aesthetica Magazine , The Edinburgh Review, Crossways, In 2017 a selection of his poetry ‘In Free Fall’ was published by Leaf by Leaf Press. In 2019 he won second prize in The Aurora Prize for Writing for his poem Manor Farm
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
Wings. A Poem by Phillip Henry Christopher
for Don Yorty
1
You read Rilke on 15th Street,
oblivious to the traffic,
the disinterested passing by,
the text passing
from your passionate grasp
into the ice-gray grip
of the grim theorist,
full of dedication,
not like devotion
born in the hot bosom
of simplicity,
where poets lie
defenseless
without ideology.
I could not abide the contrast well,
the play of opposites
side by side on the sidewalk,
one muse held fast
between them.
With a pounding head,
I chose coffee in a plastic cup,
caffeine, and relief
from senses pulled apart
in hot Philadelphia sun.
2
He reads a thousand years
of suspecting truths
reads for angels
stripped of wings,
choking in the dust.
No, not angels…
Human, mortal, cursed…
Like a vision
on wings of wax,
beating relentlessly
against the wind,
striving to rise,
to leave cold ground
for warmth of the sun,
to see in the light
truth shadows distort.
And in the heat the poet
is brightly lit for a time,
until the thin seams of wax,
glue binding the act melts…
Feathers gleaned from birds
of all kinds and climes,
wings fashioned like a knife edge
slicing through time,
loose themselves from
the poet’s binding thoughts
to float slowly away,
each in its own direction.
The act ends turning one last
hope-filled look into blinding light
receding into the distance,
then freefalling,
spinning earthward.
3
That I could hold fast,
freeze the falling poet
one instant,
or embrace him once,
but he flies among clouds
I fear to approach.
“Wings” excerpt from a 2017 chapbook, “Pizza and
Chianti; The Philadelphia Poems.
https://www.facebook.com/philliphenrychristopher/
Poet, novelist and singer/songwriter Phillip Henry Christopher spent his early years in France, Germany and Greece. His nomadic family then took him to Mississippi, Georgia, Ohio and Vermont before settling in the steel mill town of Coatesville, Pennsylvania, where he grew up in the smokestack shadows of blue collar America.Escaping high school, he made Philadelphia his home, alternating between Philly and cities across America, living for a time in Buffalo, New Orleans, Fort Worth, even remote Fairfield, Iowa, before settling in Indianapolis. While wandering America he has placed poems and stories in publications across the country and in Europe and Asia, including such noteworthy journals as The Caribbean Writer, Gargoyle, Lullwater Review, Hazmat Review, Blue Collar Review, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, Blind Man’s Rainbow and New York Quarterly
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
Mini Poems Chapter 2 el al by Michael T. Smith.
Chapter 2Moving forward, I want my disease to be my companion,
so she can help me write my canon.Eclipse
I borrowed the eyes of an eclipse,
to wink Eden under the table,I saw a secret, which is to say –
I didn’t see it:to borrow eyes from not a friend, but Mother
Nature,to see what I can’t see unseen.
Gunshot romance
There’s a girl sitting next to me,
belongs in a Tarantino movie.
But I’m not dodging bullets;
I’m only dodging a longshot kiss.How Terrifying…
How terrifying death is
in the middle of a thought.
My eyes wanted to slam shut
such that they could defend
against what I know not.Kindness
Sometimes human kindness
to one another
is so short
as to be nonexistent.Nausea
There is nothing more repulsive
than the smiling photo of a politician
in their ad,
those papers glued to surfaces many,
like a parasite —
those who themselves are but a surface plenty.Waterfall
I want my thoughts
to descend
like a waterfall,
such that the droplets form
an image of you.When…
When every word you’ve used
Too much —
It’s a hollowed word,
Sans thought.
Word Map of a Cat on a MatPutting the indexes out,
I saw the cat,
Sleeping with torso outstretched
While I, unheimlich, rushed to and fro;
On a mat, it sat — in peace,
And I said sighing, what I want is that.
Bio:
Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of English who teaches both writing and film courses. He has published over 150 pieces (poetry and prose) in over 80 different journals. He loves to travel.
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
PALM LEAVES. A Poem by Abigail Ayornu
The beautiful leaves lingering like a genius
With its branches having an earring
As the fruits ripe
Her appetite whets to eat the fruits of her labour
Is like a youth springing to maturity
With all her sparkling features
Having hairs on the stem is natural
As it unveils the beauty of womanhood
Not to talk of the roots
Having meritable feets
Standing in one location
Trapped in the middle of the forest
Bio: Abigail Ayornu is a Ghanaian and student of the University of Cape Coast offering B.A English and linguistics. She is a writer of short stories and has recently written poems for 2020 namely: Palm leaves et al.
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules and Next Arrivals, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)
Chores & Crickets. Two Poems by Kushal Poddar
Chores
The humdrum of humble chores
hunted by us both
because the syllables,
stressed and unstressed, of gardening,
dusting, washing, doing the dishes
or fluffing those instruments of sleep
lullabies our nervous system.
“Which song did your great grandparents
sing during the old pestilence?”
You shake your head. The scattered music
migrated to the concentration camp of Lethe.
During shoveling snow that swirls
to sheath
the ground beneath for the first time since
the glacial maximum I discover
my grandmother’s canticle – half ember,
half skeletal, some canary’s bones
asleep in its circle.
Crickets
Crickets mark the absence of silence
or noise, and the wailing sirens.
We count them pass
as if they carry silence
in body bags.
“One.”, I say in a singsong way;
“And two.” You croon. The lullaby
or the urgency of sirens
burkes the insects; something
gnaws the roof, makes one itch
to touch the ceiling
with his tongue and to lick
it clean.
If you think we’ve lost our minds
welcome to the house of quarantine;
the border of the lands all indoor,
we play with our chores to stay sane.
One flipped and crossed the border.
We are yet to hear the rests.
Something gnaws the roof. I hope it has life.
Edited the online magazine ‘Words Surfacing’. Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio), A Place For Your Ghost Animals (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs), Understanding The Neighborhood (BRP, Australia), Scratches Within (Barbara Maat, Florida), Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems (BRP, Australia) and Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems (Hawakal Publishers, India) and now Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel (Alien Buddha Press)
Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/
Author Page amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and TimesArtvilla.com ; his publications include
All the Babble of the Souk , Cartoon Molecules, Next Arrivals and Moon Selected Audio Textual Poems, collected poems, as well as translation of Guadalupe Grande´s La llave de niebla, as Key of Mist and the recently published Tesserae , a translation of Carmen Crespo´s Teselas.
You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author. See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)