The Cold Sunset. A Prose Poem by Bobbi Sinha-Morey

It’s been two days that no bird
has been in the sky, the dooryard
so quiet except for the sound of an
acorn just fallen from the oak tree;
my neighbor so empty-headed she
doesn’t believe a word the scientists
say; this day in 2020 she’d rather
put her faith in what that louse has
to say. She sees him as an ornament,
something full and bright, she doesn’t
see under the surface like me and so
many other people do. I fear the worst,
smell the smoke rising of a growing
civil war or revolution having wound
their way around my head and squeezed
themselves inside. My oldest daughter
doesn’t like it either; this morning she
woke up with sleep marks creasing the
side of her face. And I hate what I just
learned on the radio; I bang my head
on a book trying to dislodge yesterday’s
memory. I stand there outside my home
all by myself staring at the cold sunset
above me with hardly a friend because
I like to speak my mind. No one wants
to listen to me except for my father,
the smartest person I know. I’m no
Nostradamus, but the predictions I’ve
made over the years have always rung
true.
 
 

 
 
Bobbi Sinha-Morey’s poetry has appeared
in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain, The Wayfarer, Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia Rising Review, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at Amazon.com and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net Anthology in 2015, 2018, and 2020 as well has having been nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2020. Her website is located at http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Robin Ouzman Hislop is Editor of Poetry Life and Times at Artvilla.com ; You may visit Aquillrelle.com/Author Robin Ouzman Hislop about author & https://poetrylifeandtimes.com See Robin performing his work Performance (University of Leeds)

 

Dead Beat Dad & More Poems by Brian Rihlmann

 
i.
 
Deadbeat Dad
 
my poems are my children
and I’m their deadbeat dad—
I create them, love them,
nurture them for a little while
a few hours…a day…
sometimes a week
if that’s what it takes
until I feel they’re ready
or I’m just tired of them
then I boot them out
I open the door and say—
you’ve gotten all I have to give
so go on now
you’re free
get out there and live
go see what they’ll make of you
just don’t expect too much
 
sometimes they don’t want to go
they look back at me
from the front steps
they plead with their eyes
and their sad little faces
but I set mine to stone
and shut the door
 
like any parent
of course it pains me to know
they may be mocked
or laughed at
or misunderstood
they may wind up
rotting in dumpsters
or abandoned in dark
and dusty corners
but there’s always the possibility
of being found by someone
who needs them
someone who hears
what they have to say
and that’s the best
a deadbeat dad like me
can hope for
 
ii.
 
One Day Much Too Soon
 
she walks unsteadily as a toddler
and trembles as though terrified
always a nurse by her side
I’ve watched her come and go
from the house next door
diminutive and middle-aged
with pageboy hair and thick glasses
but I haven’t seen her
since the ambulance came that day
and I haven’t heard
the unearthly sound she makes
halfway between a laugh and a cry
I never knew which
maybe she didn’t either
but now as I stand outside, listening…
the absence and the silence
reminds me of all we get used to
and all the strangeness we’ll miss
one day much too soon
 
iii.
 
One Hand On Her Ass
 
If a young man
ever sought my advice
I’d tell him this—
don’t kick yourself too much
not over the times
you stumble and fall
not over the time
you think you’ve wasted
lying there
until you’re able to get
on your feet again
and not over all the people
you believe you’ve let down
because the world
couldn’t possibly go on
without you, right?
don’t kick yourself
for any of it
in fact make a habit
of not kicking yourself—
life’s a cranky old mare
she’ll kick you plenty
stomp you when you’re down
she doesn’t need
any of your help
oh—and if you have to walk
behind her
keep one hand
on her ass
and stay as close
as you possibly can

 
 
 
 

 
 
 
Brian Rihlmann:
 
Brian Rihlmann lives and writes in Reno, Nevada. His poetry has appeared in many magazines, including The Rye Whiskey Review, Fearless, Heroin Love Songs, Chiron Review and The Main Street Rag. His latest collection, “Night At My Throat,” (2020) was published by Pony One Dog Press.
 
 
 
 
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)

Karol Nielsen’s SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN & other Poems

 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN
 
I sat on a bench, raw logs,
shaved clean almost
in Shakespeare’s Garden.
The magnolias were bursting,
and the cherries,
and Japanese plum.
A photographer
held his lens high to
the pink, white, and purple buds,
snapping, looking,
snapping. Across the
sky, the apartment towers
looked grand,
like church steeples,
graceful, gothic spires.
And I thought of you,
painting this scene,
like we used to do.
 
COWBOY HAT
 
I wore a cowboy hat—
straw—and raw confidence,
as I walked past two men
who turned to look and said,
We’ll never see that girl again.
 
HEADS
 
They turn in summer for
sun-kissed hair, buttery
flesh—exposed, carefree.
They look down, turn away,
after fall brings its dull cast,
and I wonder what is true?
 
THE WRITING LIFE
 
I write a few lines
and feel the calm
of a practiced monk.
But too long away
I am the worst sort of
neurotic—incessant.
 
 

 
 
Karol Nielsen is the author of the memoirs Black Elephants (Bison Books, 2011) and Walking A&P (Mascot Books, 2018) and the chapbooks This Woman I Thought I’d Be (Finishing Line Press, 2012) and Vietnam Made Me Who I Am (Finishing Line Press, 2020). Her first memoir was shortlisted for the William Saroyan International Prize for Writing in nonfiction in 2012. Excerpts were honored as notable essays in The Best American Essays in 2010 and 2005. Her full poetry collection was a finalist for the Colorado Prize for Poetry in 2007. Her work has appeared in Epiphany, Guernica, Lumina, North Dakota Quarterly, Permafrost, RiverSedge, and elsewhere. She has taught writing at New York University and New York Writers Workshop.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)

EXOTIC BIRDS & LIFE IS FLAMENCO. Poems by Strider Marcus Jones

(i.)
 
EXOTIC BIRDS
 
i love the substance
of eccentric style
in your beauty-
the enchanting glance
of old fashioned romance
in your smile
that softly soothes me
after the external joust dust
of modernity
settles
on precious metals
sought by Faustus
stealing gas and oil
from African soil.
i love the dink
in the middle of your back
where my fingers sink
when i trace and track
the road of your spine
in perfect sync
of mind with mine.
i last, near and far
in your scented clouds of cinnabar,
singing, with you, want you, words
like intoxicating exotic birds-
ready to leave poisonous suburbs
to disturbed self and same
arrogant and vain
vices and vines
embracing abyss in eclipsed times.
 
(ii.)
 
LIFE IS FLAMENCO
 
why can’t i walk as far
and smoke more tobacco,
or play my Spanish guitar
like Paco,
putting rhythms and feelings
without old ceilings
you’ve never heard
before in a word.
 
life is flamenco,
to come and go
high and low
fast and slow-
 
she loves him,
he loves her
and their shades within
caress and spur
in a ride and dance
of tempestuous romance.
 
outback, in Andalucien ease,
i embrace you, like melted breeze
amongst ripe olive trees-
dark and different,
all manly scent
and mind unkempt.
 
like i do,
Picasso knew
everything about you
when he drew
your elongated arms and legs
around me, in this perpetual bed
of emotion
and motion
for these soft geometric angles
in my finger strokes
and exhaled smokes
of rhythmic bangles
to circle colour your Celtic skin
with primitive phthalo blue
pigment in wiccan tattoo
before entering
vibrating wings
through thrumming strings
of wild lucid moments
in eternal components.
 
i can walk as far
and smoke more tobacco,
and play my Spanish guitar
like Paco.
 

 
 
Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales.
A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry https//stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com
reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms.
——————————————
His poetry has been published in the USA, Canada, Australia, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, France, Spain, Germany; Serbia; India and Switzerland in numerous publications including: The Piker Press; Dreich Magazine; The Racket Journal; Trouvaille Review; dyst Literary Journal; Impspired Magazine; Literary Yard Journal; Poppy Road Review; Cajun Mutt Press; Rusty Truck Magazine; Rye Whiskey Review; Deep Water Literary Journal; The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; The Lampeter Review; Panoplyzine Poetry Magazine; Dissident Voice.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)

THE REHABILITATION OF A FUSED PARTICIPLE & TRUST IN THE COUNTRY Poems by Colin James

(i.)

THE REHABILITATION OF A FUSED PARTICIPLE
Upon your giving
the proper direction
we passed the gate without incident.
All the staff heavily bearded
wore vertical striped fare.
They led us down subconscious hallways
adorned with inmate’s art,
some bargains for the closet.
Pausing at a bared window
I matched a landscape with where we were.
They held you in a cordoned courtyard
the trickling light meekly unaware.
A straight jacket unpressed, stained
bits of recent food in your hair.
I signed the drug concession form.
We took the same route back
stopping just once more to inquire if
a previously dropped off appliance
could possibly be repaired.

(ii.)

TRUST IN THE COUNTRY
There is a neat, round hole
cut into the small tree bushes
across the way from
our bathroom window.
Sticking out of this hole
is a thick complex telescope.
I thought it was a tree limb,
passed it many times walking
the dog Jeff who had no opinion.
When I realized what was afoot,
I confronted our voyeuristic neighbor.
He said he had little interest in me
my skin too flaccid on the bone,
thin and thinner, despite absolution.
My wife however is voluptuous.
He often observes her on the toilette,
long legged, ankles turned slightly in.
Piquant and still retaining
much if not all of her original sin.
 
 

 
 
Colin James has a couple of chapbooks of poetry published. Dreams Of The Really Annoying from Writing Knights Press and A Thoroughness Not Deprived of Absurdity from Piski’s Porch Press and a book of poems, Resisting Probability, from Sagging Meniscus Press……
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)

Shelter. A Poem by Andrew Scott

 

So many hands out
waving affection
though they do not know
who I truly am.
 
I hide the nervousness
and the thoughts
that keep away sleep.
 
Confidence and anxiety
cause the different blend
of the perfect confusion.
Hidden with a calm smile
to the many faces I meet.
 
As I look you in the eye
please remember one thing.
Just because we shake hands
does not mean you may know me.
The only one that truly does
is the person in my shelter.
 
July 12, 2015
© Andrew Scott – Just a Maritime Boy 2015
 

 
 
Andrew Scott is a native of Fredericton, NB. During his time as an active poet, Andrew Scott has taken the time to speak in front of classrooms, judge poetry competitions as well as had over 200 hundred writings published worldwide in such publications as The Art of Being Human, Battered Shadows and The Broken Ones.
 
Andrew Scott has published five poetry books, Snake With A Flower, The Phoenix Has Risen, The Path, The Storm Is Coming and Searching and one book of photography, Through My Eyes. Whispers Of The Calm is his sixth poetry book.
 
To contact Andrew, email …andrewscott.scott@gmail.com
 
http://twitter.com/JustMaritimeBoy
http://andrewmscott.com
http://www.facebook.com/andymscott
http://www.facebook.com/JustaMaritimeBoy
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)

3 Poems by Glen Armstrong.Cherry Cola XXXVI,June Bug & Radium

 
(i.)
Cherry Cola XXXVI
 
Bottled inks and dyes fill Sister’s dressers,
desks and closets.
Color
 
confuses me when it can be labeled.
Clean bedding shares
space
 
with paper.
 
Yellow makes a case for exclamation
points and plastic.
Red
 
lights a flare.
 
Orange is loved but unexpected, unplanned,
nearly a clearing or sauce.
Purple
 
is nobody’s child.
 
I sign up to conduct an experiment and end
up measuring rainbows,
eulogizing
 
white mice, eating lunch by myself.
 
(ii.)
June Bug
 
One of the letters
of the alphabet has golden wings.
 
I think about ping-pong.
I think about falling.
 
One of the radio stations
has letters that almost spell
a word.
 
I think about calling
in to request
 
“My Blue Heaven.”
 
Whippoorwills and babies
fly around the room.
 
(iii.)
Radium
 
We played in the abandoned clock
factory.
 
We chased each other the way squirrels
chase Russian spies.
 
We smoked Granddad’s pipe
and tried on Mother’s dresses.
 
It was the best
of times and the wurst.
 
We ate liver spread on white bread
with yellow mustard
 
and bested the spies
who worsted the moose.
 
Gardens bloomed
on bedroom walls at night
 
when the rest of the world
stopped glowing.
 
 

 
 
Glen Armstrong holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and teaches writing at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan. He edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters and has three current books of poems: Invisible Histories, The New Vaudeville, and Midsummer. His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit, and Cream City Review.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)

From Some Cavity. A Poem by Ben Nardolilli

 

Ambitious cat, she walks along the edge of the couch,
Between me and the window that displays the real wild side
Of the woods that hang together beyond the glass
 
She pauses only to stretch, never noticing me with a look,
No begging either, for more food or my touch,
I do not need her attention, what matters is I get to see her
 
All movement in the room is inside her, except the leaves
Outside when the wind blows through them,
When the breeze is still, everything else I see stays in place
 
Bless this cat, then, for providing a little gift of evidence
Of the world’s current and change, without her paws
I would lose track of time, or worse, that time itself can exist
 
 

 
Ben Nardolilli currently lives in New York City. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, The Northampton Review, Local Train Magazine, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is trying to publish his novels.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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)