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Carmela Marino


my first forty years-

contemplating the leaves
swallows

cobalt sky-
the moon takes me
deep down

rain footprints-
nothing belongs to me
of this world



Mary Cresswell


In Sumatra or maybe Sulawesi

mountains explode
whole oceans spew and subside

Clouds of ash wash into
glorious sunsets and,
to the joy of poets, a rufous moon

Fresh faultlines race down ledges
course over old borders
to redefine the colours of thought

The bones stay behind, scraped white
in tidepools, degrading into sand
to clean survivors’ hands



Maria Concetta Conti


winter

asking the stars
to bring you home

wintertime
believing in love
again

winter
keeping a journal
of her dreams



Douglas J. Lanzo


lifting my spirits

golden-beaked eagle
soars overhead

even the ice
creaks with delight
cinnamon cider

exuding wonder
rainbow halo
circles the moon



Monalisha Gogoi


village monastery -

between me and Buddha
deepening silence

emptiness ...
the fleeting sounds of
migrating birds

gliding
over the silver oaks ...
cold moon



Roberta Beach Jacobson


the moon

does not have to worry
what phase
it's in tonight because
we will gaze no matter what

offering
my heartfelt apology
too late
I whisper as maple leaves
fall on her gravestone

she paints
herself out of the corner
but pauses
to see who will help paint
her back into her comfort zone



Bryan Rickert


misty sunrise

the banter of geese
in tight formation

first crocus
cracking the snow
your blossoms
living on
in your children

coming downstream
the unsteady path
of ducklings



Joy McCall


the Crone of the Woods


the blackthorn tree is dark and bent
its thorns are sharp and straight and thin
but oh the fruit, the purple sloes
fermenting in the gin!

the 'crone of the woods' leans drunken
her black-burned skeleton stark
leafless, still she twists and turns
clutching at the dark

her icy heart holds no pity
the old staff strikes the ground times three
the devils come up from the fire
and gather round the tree

the pins of slumber pierce my hands
I keep my grip, I bear the pain
the torment falters, weakens, dies
and slowly fade the stains

the blackthorn tree is dark and bent
its thorns are sharp and straight and thin
but oh the fruit, the purple sloes
fermenting in the gin!



water sign

I think of the rain that might fall
one day when they lay me to rest
deep in the ground in the dark woods
where the old hawthorn grows

all my days have followed water
the north sea ebbing and flowing
the great lakes where the wild loons call
the inn by the river

it is no wonder that minnows
sing to me from white cloud mountains
that crabs come sidling up to me
on the sandy beaches

even the big-eyed frogs come out
from the rushes on the green pond
and stare, while I read Ryokan
under dripping willows



Maed Rill Monte


Birthday expenses another strand of white hair to color


Mood gardening
breaking ground for fishbones
in history-rich soil

Sitting lotus-poised
a bee's side track
misses my ear



Bruce Gunther




Autumn moon -
Reading light
for pumpkins

Sparrow
ends moth’s
maiden flight

Carpet of leaves -
maple sheds
its robe



Chen-ou Liu


a night of stars

our first love stories
by campfire glow


a bomb crater
where makeshift tents once stood ...
the snow moon


the dark side
of a winter moon
the fading face
of my high school sweetheart
in and out of a dream



Neena Singh


homecoming...

the cuckoo unfolds
a long-lost song

a peacock's call
will you come
tonight?

indigo sky holds
the crescent moon--
her tentative smile



Anna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo


dreams in turmoil the labyrinth of the wind



And I offer

And I offer you my side
Don't tear it apart with yours
ravenous wolf teeth
Helpless I dress myself in light
not to attract the shadows
of a Saturday night
dedicated to the game of death



I dreamed of a wine

I dreamed of a wine
black as anxiety
that gushes in streams
from the windows of the heart

The veins bare branches
tangles of absences
that still continue
to pulsate empty

I dreamed of a wine
black as anxiety
and the stars of two eyes
on the hills of Ireland

Old abandoned newspapers
news to the rhythm of a waltz
that no longer belongs to me
in the dream of distances

I dreamed of a wine
black as anxiety
and the stars are now dust
on the hills of Ireland.



Zahra Mughis


a creamy

flower bud
latte art

empty chair
by the fireplace
no more stories

through the mist
sparkles a shade of blue
February sky



Eva Joan


passion


i write it ... i read it
then i delete every single word
next try

at night ... alone
only the moon in my window
and me


ice breath

unspoken words
exhaled into cold winter air ...
they disappear in silence
without any echo
weightless like fog
above the folds of the sea



grain of sand

between all these stars
i would merely
be a grain of sand
would get lost
if i could not see
the love in your eyes



Tiffany Shaw-Diaz


in the past

i have known peace
but this night
is full of storms
without relief


a small
tendril of moonlight
what if
i held my pain
like a treasured lover


i know
the darkness will return
but
for this moment
i have found peace



Debbie Strange




the year that was

mask debate
the wasps inside
my mouth

lockdown
a song sparrow offers
mother's eulogy

isolation walk
I wash my hands
at water's edge

quarantine
the silent scolding
of squirrels

travel ban
a jet on the runway
of my mind

social unrest
we drive into a tornado
of tumbleweeds



Taofeek Ayeyemi


village river a frog jumps into the full moon


frog pond a blue heron breaks the silence

mare's tails --
the farmer shearing off
bales of wool



Pat Davis


midnight

our toes touch
the moon

twilight
we rename
the stars

today's gift
the sway of a seed bell
and bluejays



Michael H. Lester




rattle my bones
like a pair of lucky dice
toss them hard
against the alley wall
pray dear boy, pray for rain


bury my bones
in a virgin forest deep
cover the mound
with seeds of giant castor
and that is where I’ll sleep


she hangs there
from a makeshift noose
the young mother
a wailing infant at her feet
hush little baby, don’t you cry



Mark Ward


uncut summer grass

edges round the soccer pitch -
a first attempt beard

oaks await the hush
in a street free of feet
finally speaking

sunset he cruises
the docks wanting the sea
to crash against him



M.J.Iuppa


Clear sky--

blue, seemingly
empty, yet dust swirls up--
vortex of restless indigo,
shifting


Casting,
net of starlings
soars over sea of wheat–
quicksilver shadows disappear–
whirlpool


Lullaby
Head tucked,
one mute swan sleeps
against the rock of waves.
Feathers ruffle in wind’s cradle.
Daydreams.



Nancy Rapp


solstice

the sun is also
fogged in

november grasses-
sparrows ride up and down
chirping

downward facing dog-
the view so different
from this age



Oluwasegun Oluseyi Adesina


April Fool's Day --

the fugitive poses
with mannequins

staring
through the car's window . . .
spring blossoms

election time
the government revives
abandoned projects



Ben Gaa




afternoon sun
the distant crack
of a baseball bat

leaves
and the smell of leaves
october wind

street side cafe
the waggy shaggy tail
of a stranger’s dog



Antoni Ooto


The Hours


Before your last steps
when the time comes, and it will…

Pen your poem
as if it were the only reason you came.



Walks on Gibson Road

The first sounds of oaks and pines
void of description
wash over me
patient, without words.



Mike Wilson





Life

OMG!
WTF?
LOL
RIP



Mirror


She poses as a cupcake
hoping he will take a bite
taste a human being




Calculus


Each discreet act and thought
a number precisely calculated

Creation’s unfathomable will
places the decimal point



Tunde Adesokan


sun shower

raindrops running down
the sinew of a mechanic

rainstorm
our legs paddling
against the current

dewdrops
sanitizer dripping
off the hands



Dave Read



a day off from work:
I plan
to sleep in
the late morning fog
of a dream

the night sky
fills a puddle
with stars…
I reflect on
the depths of time

during the lockdown
traffic is quiet…
a plastic
cup rolls
down the street



Maya Daneva



pandemic winter
the Welcome mat
deep under the snow

hiatus
my high school sweetheart’s
friend request

off key
her happy song
after the pandemic curfew hour



Nisha Raviprasad


morning rush-

I remind myself
to breathe

on the bridge.....
the moon closer
than you


lazy sunday-
I blow dandelions
into the wind



Steve Black


i sink

into my winter coat
another
final demand
drops onto the mat

the street preacher asks
if i'm ready for judgement day
i ask him how's he doing
he doesn't have time
for small talk

her children
riding high in the top 5%
one an olympic hopeful
the other at medical school
she doesn't ask about mine



Helga Stania




above the clouds

striding lightly soundless
the wind now and then
a rustle a bird song
stitch the images to a tattoo
on the inner skin


foehn clouds

reddened
by evening light

a falcon
on the pylon
rests in himself



Giuliana Ravaglia


alta sulla montagna

la prima stella del mattino
regale astro celeste
come attimo eterno scintilla


high on the mountain
the first morning star
royal celestial star
as an eternal moment spark



nell'assorto silenzio
vagano ombre chiare di luce
sogni esuli e lontani
scarabocchiano il crepuscolo


in the absorbed silence
clear shadows of light wander
distant and exiled dreams
scribble the twilight



ruzzolava negli occhi
un tafferuglio di nostalgia
ma improvviso nel vento
l'oro addosso dell'imbrunire

it tumbled in the eyes
a row of nostalgia
but sudden in the wind
the gold on dusk



Mike Gallagher


mortuary card

the lies of a life
unlived

a gust of wind
caressing her lips
a blown kiss

wake house
prayers for the dead
a beehive hum



Jamie Wimberley


night storm --

the old record
skipping a beat

heat lightning
the white eyelid
of a woodpecker

handwritten
her birthday notes to me
deer tracks in snow



Janice Doppler


old cookbook

grandmom’s aromas
now mine

post-surgery walk
the scent
of fallen leaves

sea-soaked stump…
a cormorant
spreads its wings



Hifsa Ashraf


deep scars

of the medical mask
empowering
the beauty I hold
in my compassionate heart

the flurry
of snowflakes
shedding
the burden
of this anonymous pain

owl’s hoot
outside the ward
when we offer
our deep silence
to the cold wind



Billy Antonio


a stream

of thoughts
the long walk home

abandoned barn
the endless chirps
of crickets

the scent
of twilight lingers
ylang-ylang blossoms



Joy McCall & Steve Wilkinson


the little weed somewhat battered

by night rains and falling leaves
still lifts her white head to the light ...
can I not do the same?


lift your head above the storm
see the orange sun circle the sky
offer up a prayer to heaven
and rise like a phoenix



lighting the mulled wine candle

we use it as a prayer at dusk
for the ones we love so much
who face struggle and loss


the jasmine scented candle flickers
as I read poems late at night
whisky from the Highlands warms me
banishing fear and fright



she takes two books from my shelf

to carry to her distant land -
the old - Alice in Wonderland
the new - Deirdre of the Sorrows


all the disappointments of life
that we hide away in our hearts
let faith, love and peace be our guides
the promised land is near


​
in the quietness of woods

and fields and ruins, I hear
the whispering of holy truth -
God's voice in leaf and stone


the lazy river below the bridge
gave water for the hillside monks
now the crumbled stones hold nothing
but the memory of their prayers



Steve Wilkinson


they sought God in a wooded dale

day after day an austere life
spring growth and autumn leaf fall
they ate they slept they worked


now we are pilgrims in a way
seeking peace in ancient ruins
touching the stones that they once touched
craving heavenly peace


Sovereign Lord of all creation
hear my prayer on bended knee
grant me light to see my pathway
give truth to set me free​



​


Christina Chin​
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K.E.V. Trocmet
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Lavana Kray
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Sherry Grant

Stashed Away

locked in times of uncertainty
elegance from last century
life-long dedication to art
quietly stashed away


afternoon tea invitation
prepared for two best friends, simple
pleasures came to be abandoned
her untimely demise


in this house, even the dogs are
unhappy, clearly feeling the
pain from their owners, constant fear
like there’s no tomorrow


tired of a world of little hope
tedious life in which people
with no trust in one another
reflected in her eyes


just another number for the
grim reaper, final destiny
with no escape, no matter how
glorious life might be


comforting words, despite her own
fear, “were you frightened, little one?”
voices trembling, attempting to
regain her composure



© Amos Chapple Photography
*Dedicated to Miriam Kaubers (great niece of artist, currently
residing in New Zealand), and Amos Chapple (photographer
originally from New Zealand) who took photos of these
amazing artworks in Prague

© Gertrud Kaubers (Czech Republic, Jewish artist died in Holocaust)
artworks, among 700+ canvases stashed away in her friend
Natalie Jahudkova’s house in Prague for fear of discovery by
Nazi Germany. Her friend took this secret with her to grave, these
paintings were only discovered during demolition of the house in 2018

https://www.rferl.org/a/murdered-jewish-artist-paintings-kauders-nazis-prague/30858168.html

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