Concoction | Edgar Law
Old Madame Mystery
makes another concoction
bubbling brew
not unlike a pale ale.
The last bottle turned
a herd of sailors into
swine.
What will this one do
once we’ve gulped it?
a poem
Times | Ananya S. Guha
I enter world of Gods
Caucasian, Roman they stare
the world of myths swirl
I plumb the depths into seas
torpedoed by time, ancient artillery and chariots crossing. Nowhere
are demons. The suntanned world of Roman and Greek Gods, plunging
into history
and books I read as a child.
A world agog with excitement of times.
—–
Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong, a small hill town in North East
India. He did his Masters in English and doctoral on the novels of
William Golding. He has been writing and publishing his poetry for
over thirty years. His works have appeared in Art Arena, Other Voices, Muse India, Kritya, Up The Stair Case, Odd Ball Magazine, 1947 Journal, Dead Snakes, UFO Gigolo, Scarlet Review, TigerShark, Post Colonial Text, Poetry, Life And Times, The Commonline Journal, Gloom Cupboard among a host of others. He writes book reviews, articles on education, distance education and vocational education. He is currently a Regional Director in India’s Indira Gandhi National Open University.
Will You Knock Down My Walls? | Tamsen Grace
I love my walls,
I usually build them
without doors,
it makes them harder to get into.
Why didn’t Alice fit through the door,
was she too big or the door too little?
The reality is,
if I do as you ask and knock down the walls,
the roof will fall on my head and kill me.
And if you have gotten through the shrunken door,
You, might die with me.
More at http://tamsengrace.com.
Enough Enough | Russ Cope
When is enough
enough
When do we grow tired
of the wall-building
of boundaries to push each
other away
When we begin to listen
and learn again
Embracing our own
inner power to reason.
Read Twice | Riley Coffey
I love the words
that work on a page
but I rarely read them
twice
I have rain-drenched
lovely memories
of many classics
So the second time
I begin my read
is the highest compliment
I can manage.
Unmentionables | Edgar Law
Rugged, ragged,
thread bare, shocking,
We all have these
Unmentionables hidden
in our lives.
Everyone just tries
to pretend they are made
of pure unblemished silk.
Falling out of Bed | JD DeHart
There is no good way
to fall out of bed except
to not fall at all. The first
time was when I stayed over
and woke up in a tumble
of sheets, writhing in a cocoon
on the floor, tearful and unsure
of where I was. I remember
figures in the dark, crying
softly like me.
Now I tumble out each morning,
met with the same old me.
Not falling is not an option.
Devoid of Dreams | Ananya S. Guha
In India the heat is a stutter
and out there they are hacking stones to build a quarry of dreams.
Glisten, let bodies glisten, let the sun rupture these bodies, they
have no clothes,
let the stone cutters listen to the voices who pay them for eating,
drinking and dying in their sleep devoid of dreams.
Good Guy | Maggie Beck
A title that covers
a number of sins.
Never mind if he cheats
and eats people alive.
Good family, good guy.
He’s a hitter, a quitter,
a beater.
But never mind.
Good guy.