Category: Poetry
-
Midnight Haunts by Tyler Baigrie
waking up to grey faces hovering over you saying,you’re too old for this aren’t you?too young to ask these questionsand too old to want these answers. you’re too old for this aren’t you?we know you know but your feet don’t movelike they used to anymore and your brain doesn’tstart like…
-
At the Corridor by Hamdiye Etlan
I remember my lies, sir.The quotes I stole.That’s the reason for the dimness of my eyes,the emptiness inside me. I lie, yes, sirthen I write them down here, without care.I call them “things I do” but“lies I told”I should call them. You’re trying to help.But I doubt that, too.I don’t…
-
Parched by Tushar Sen
A bomb fell—like a rogue kite,stringless, nameless,aiming nothing, claiming everything.Blisters on that body—like boils on bubble wrap,waiting, bursting, multiplying. The place hissed,like a silenced furnacebreathing through broken walls.In the market square,a skull lay atop a fountain,choked with blood—to ward off the spiritsof those who died a “natural death.” Fresh rubble,still…
-
Molten Memory by Jim Bates
The sun rose fiery on a hazy July dawnThe clouds were blood red the world silent in aweThe birds seemed wary and were quiet in their singingAs if in wide wonder at the spectacle they sawBut soon the morning cleared and the sunshine did pourAnd the sky like a volcano…
-
A Joke Foretold by Nostradamas by Ricardo Quinones
The Duke bombarded Venice—the Doge cried, “God have mercy!”but cries no more—death is witless—and skiffs halt—abreast, our sea. The Emperor in Paris—in repose, sits he, unstirred.He dreams of fair Helen’s kissand consults the augur’s birds. “Three weeks more! Four’s too many.What am I taken for? A foolin full jest? It’s…
-
Background Noise by Michael Boss
I didn’t notice the fridgeuntil the power went out.And then I missed its steady faith—a presence that said: still here.The air conditioner’s wheeze,the neighbor’s dog at 3 a.m.,traffic bleeding through windows,a distant ocean—all of it,the unnoticed orchestrathat scores our sleep.We call it noise.It’s prayer.The drone of machinesthat keep us alive,the…
-
Cotter Pin by Martin Indars
Tibet’s oppressed. Arctic ice is getting thin. But all I need is a cotter pin.If not that a bolt or rivet may dofor my troubles now are small -their fixes are too. I know, I know Australia’s coral is bleaching while my countrymen celebrate science’s death. But first I’ll go…
-
Altered by Christina Rousseau
There’s a peculiar amount of freedomthat comes with losing everything. The colors of my life dance around meas they are stripped away. Rosy reds of my blood that once washed my cheeksreminding me that I could feel. Soft purples of being held. They gather on my skin and detach from…
-
Politics of the Dog & Pangea in Wartime by William Dell Price
Politics of the Dog I love dogs more than people.Dogs are quiet, people are loudAnd when dogs are loud, there is a muzzle for themYou put a muzzle on a person, you’re called “mad” Dogs don’t need clothesWe accept them nudeYou force someone to walk naked, it’s called “abuse” You…