Browsing Category : Poetry

what is the boy who drags his solitudes outdoors by Peter Akinlabi


(for yomi ogunsanya) what is the boy who drags his solitudes outdoors, setting up a garden in a skeined place, where he skims books in proximate images. he imagines, there, in a memory a little bit different, he might unlearn the swaddling language of early traumas, and walk the knotted shadows to light. in dreams, he often returns to pain…






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Emily As We Test the Mammals by Darren C. Demaree


If Emily is the bones & the muscles & the good synapses, then I must be the hesitation, the pose before the searching ends. I must be what makes us more & less than the others.     Darren C. Demaree is the author of five poetry collections, most recently “The Nineteen Steps Between Us” (2016, After the Pause Press).…






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Via Casa by Robert Gibbons


Think of the long trip home—Elizabeth Bishop I came a long way to get to Harlem, From grandma’s chuck of Indian corn, born Of the sugar ditch, the pitch at midnight Alligators and panthers with eyes of the soul. Was told of the many that died from arthritis and Diabetes, the dialysis of peonage, born of migrant Hands, aluminum pans…






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Giving Head by Kechi Nomu


Overnight this world becomes full of smiling people and I take you by hand to a room because it means nothing and because at some point you’ll hear me say this in a dream: I have been sore for days, years between trying to repeat a 90s love song for mood and conjuring a decade with its sea of hearts…






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Just Another Moonless Night by Rachel Heimowitz


Chugging for home to the boat-engine’s dying cough and sputter, five of us alone together, in the deepest part of a moonless night, 18° North of the equator, under a Milky Way so thick you could pour it into a glass. My father, his loud, black shadow haloed against the night, ranting at the stars: his shitty boat, shitty life,…






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The Moveable Feast of Richard Rive by Abigail George


Teacher, artist. Profound healer Skin like ochre. I found his book amongst my father’s things and fell in love with it almost immediately. I only knew that kind of love with Hemingway and Rilke. You Rive, this part of the world’s son was amongst those days’ intelligentsia. I wondered what he was like as a youth. What America was like.…






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River by Adeeko Ibukun


Gowns of dews laced the dawn. An angel descends the hour stairs on the wind raising the skirting, new veils, floating, guttation beads on the spine indict and then adorn. Morning breathes and you think a woman is spreading her satin on her arm and offers a body. This is what I want to own and you love, pouring in…






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Thirty-Nine Ways to Screw Up by Lois Roma-Deeley


Stick my finger in the coffee grinder while it’s still plugged in. Ask my self this question: What was I doing with this guy/that woman/those people? Hate myself for being stupid. Hate myself for ever being young. Believe someone else is living life better than I ever could. Leave my glasses at home. Go back for them. Drop them in…






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In the Distance by Glen Wilson


After GyulaSzabó …is a house, part of the horizon, but interloper, the planned display of tree corpses as sculpture, as shelter. The walls are stained to slow decay, the rings on wood split and widen unable to spawn offspring they need to tell how full they are of story, history. We have not made straight lines or brought order to…






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Undoing Time by Ajibola Tolase


We begin to journey back, mother and I, so our arrival could mean we never left. The canoe is a tree again and we do not speak of what was after the chiselling —the alteration of the continuous property of time. She said our understanding of light will give meaning to sequence; light intensity being our day-measuring tool. We take…






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The Great Ulysses by Jeff Burt


Bound to the mast–it’s not so much about Ulysses hearing a deathly hum or a seductive sexual whisper. It’s more about how the man in power ordered the sailors to not listen. It’s a division of labor story, it’s a story of the elite with the opportunity while the poor men slave away. The insurance executive with his secret Bieber…






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Sacrifice by Romeo Oriogun


Deep into the night, my father and I creep into the field as he breaks me into what lives after a prayer, how do I say what holds no language, what lives in your clattering teeth like songs begging to be free; this isthe night a son knows what it means to look like a mother, what it means to…






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the moon’s light cut on st. stephens day by Richard Anyah


across the moon plains, past places where light is harvested i was cut, on the feast of stephen when stones hurled themselves, in repetitive orbits. i had become laika, fossilized into moon rock the grimace you see on lit nights. sometimes i seem to ask “are you scared”? but the reverberating silence leaves me petrified instead. how could i not…






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transitions by Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu


her body is secret pathway for refugees fleeing the burning city she was once part of she was her dreams; stagnant, unmoving, faint and looking to find a star until she became a tunnel full of echoes the emptiness she is a confluence, fading past faint future looking to find a home between two corpses     Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu…






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Kentucky Stone-shoe Breakdown by Todd Mercer


Blooms are on the roadside bushes, winter’s beaten. Colts stretch their limbs in fenced pastures. It’s solace for the seasonally affected to see it. And for me. It helps. I’m walking in the Bluegrass, hobbled by a pebble in my shoe that won’t shake loose. There’s worse places to limp into the leading edge of spring. That stone seems smaller…






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Looking ’Round without a Clue by Daniel M. Shapiro


We created interference. With all the quick cuts, they couldn’t tell who was who. My memories, those times I swam in the ocean that burned, they mixed with hers, hours locked in the room where all she could do was read, read. We wrapped cardboard messages around our cerebra, fashioned guitars and violins from pool noodles, no frequencies necessary. When…






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Domestic Abuse by Amanda Gomez


They say it happens at the end of monsoon season – the herons, kingfishers, bitterns and every other local bird in the region commits mass suicide. They spiral down, smacking into buildings; self-destructing, as if evil spirits overcome their bodies exact moments before crashing. Some say extreme fog disorients their senses. Some blame brain swelling from drastic altitude changes. Researchers,…






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Unfurling Wonder by Sharon Matongo


I often talked to God 4am strewn across my bed sheets, Atmosphere, reeking of disgrace; morning-breath the taste of shame, And my limp prayers, they floundered out my mouth, “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. For I am inadequate. An aberration.” Lust, Thick like baobab roots whose longing for more Broke through this surface, Through this parched land. I…






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A line from Yo Yo Ma by Mark Young


The range of bad behavior shocked her; but a high- handed surgeon used a chisel to dismiss her complaints whilst upholding those made against her by a hierarchy of elitist men. Perhaps only the transmission of music will eliminate incom- petent leaders. So, walk a fine line. Workplace bullying in- volves new typologies for risk management since 38% of the…






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Matchbook Epiphany by Stephan Delbos


On this boulevard lined with ivory obelisks & cranes, I’ll lurk until sunrise, my perfect embouchure on a glass thirst trumpet; each penitent sip arpeggio learned like the sorrowful mysteries: by rote. Thursday– clock legs spread as darkness comes. Stilt heels, cigarettes, mint chewing gum; clutching their sparkling pocketbooks, two shes sway down the sidewalk: pearls torn from a necklace…






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Dreamers by Lynn White


The sun is standing still for them Standing still for the streams of dreamers. Dreamers streaming down the roads to somewhere else. From somewhere that has become nowhere. Dreaming of escape. Dreaming of a future, any future. Dreaming of better things to come. Dreaming of the life they once had. Dreaming of normality, whatever that means. Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming. Dreaming…






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