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The Holding, by Tammy Mezera

31/1/2015

 
Where are we
in the sensing, the push of pulse
if I am honest
I miss evaporating into the air
the density of our world
becoming ghostly
traveling admissions
meeting anomalies
touching by curiosity and questions

Darling, what are afraid of
in yielding again to the unknown
or is truth left only for strangers
to embody change
a willing possession and purge
equal to lust, resistance lost
we must now break definition
and move from our knowing
to endanger who we are
and what we have
to soar again
in a sky too vast
for the holding 

An Inexact Science, by Jane Reid

28/1/2015

 
In late January 2015, weather forecasters predicted "historic snowstorms" for north-eastern America. It really didn't materialise.

The upper air filled 

With threatening moisture 
And cold. Bad omens 

An angry storm loomed 
Large in predictions of danger 
But fickle winds veered. 

Weather prediction 
Can leave not snow but egg 
On forecasters’ faces.

the anti-eucharist, by Janette Jorgensen

28/1/2015

 
let there be: (seedless) 
     oranges 
     grapes 
     tomatoes 
  
ever aware of market values 
let us create 
    convenience 
and move beyond 
    planned obsolescence 
to the hybrid which can 
   not reproduce itself 
  
     insure seed sales 
  
do not let them be 
     fruitful, multiplying 
     filling the earth with bounty 

once life waited within fruit 
     vulnerable to disease, easy 
     prey to insect and bird 
now let us reanimate with proteins 
infuse with pesticide 

     pregnant with death 
let fruits die 
     unfulfilled 
     having lost their savour 
in the biotechnological process 
  
     let us not question our wisdom 
     our motives 
  
do not ask us: 
     what becomes of those 
     who ingest death?

Tiny Creature, by Gordon Lawrie

27/1/2015

 
Tiny creature, nameless yet,
What adventures lie in wait
For you, what simple twists of fate
Will shape your destiny?
How will fortune dictate
Your journey?

If God exists, I'll ask him this:
Protect this little one with all of His
Heavenly power, wrapped in a kiss –
But tiny creature, never fear,
If there's no God or he cannot hear
Those who love you will be there
To love, to hold, to feed, to care.

Go forward, tiny creature, go
Yours is the day that's yet to come
Yours is the world I'll never know;
May those tiny, sleepy eyes
Some day see where a better future lies.
Pretend I can cast some magic spell –
I do it now and wish you well:
Enjoy your life, enjoy the show,
And as you grow, the world will grow. 

Musicians, by Eric Smith

18/1/2015

 
You skirted the issue, 
No awkward diplomat 
Why you kept your golden 
Sphere from mine. 
Afraid to boil over I 
Remained outside even 
As your eleventh-hour concession 
To consummations arrived 
So 
Is it true? 
Are you declining in Boston? 
Those fine Texas fingers drumming 
Into a stark table? 
Keep drinking, Susan. 
I, the one man you never embraced, 
Insist upon perfection.

By Jane Reid

12/1/2015

 
Robert Frost had miles 
To go before he could sleep 
On a snowy eve. 

Tomorrow I too have 
Promises to keep, but snow 
And ice will jail me. 

All of which may show 
A horse is the way to go 
In ice and snow.

An Ode To Coffee, by Emma Baird

9/1/2015

 
Coffee ain’t my cup of tea.
Bitter, bitter, bitter…
Those ol’ dark beans are nasty critters.
They assault your taste buds and give you the jitters.
They stain your teeth and pollute your breath
(Coffee really is social death).
There are better ways to get it,
If you really want the caffeine high
Why not give the mighty cola a try?
There’s always strong chocolate too.
The bonus is you can also turn it into a brew. 

The Bold One Wins, by Sarah Hauck

8/1/2015

 
Used for typing letter by letter in a line.
Thanks to Digitus Medius, I type just fine.

At times I wish for polydactyl, to multiply.
My brain works fast, but Digit. M. is shy.

He calls upon his brother on the other hand,
Digitus Tertius flies up as if on command.

He does this quite often, sometimes unwillingly so,
at the taxi, the rude clerk or the stupid TV show.

He never cares and speaks his mind,
Unlike his brother, who is so crazy kind.

Yet so different, but they are twins,
Shy left loses, and the bold right wins.

    Poetry

    This is the section where fiction prose becomes something else. We still expect the poems to be short, though – sonnets, perhaps, or around that length at the very most.

    Poems submitted should be
    no longer than 160 words
    and contain
    no more than 16 lines.

    100 words remains the approximate target.

    Please submit using the Poetry Submissions Page.


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