October 29, 2014

Two Photos by Susie Sweetland Garay








Born and raised in Portland Oregon, Susie first played among the moss and pines, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, the rolling hills of the Ohio Appalachians and now the lovely vineyards of the Willamette Valley. She enjoys writing, growing plants and making art. She has had poetry and photography published in a variety of journals, on line and in print, and her first full length poetry collection, Approximate Tuesday, was published in 2013.  She is a founding editor of The Blue Hour Literary Magazine and Press.  More of her work can be found at susansweetlandgaray.wordpress.com.  

October 27, 2014

Grace by Danny Earl Simmons

I lay your head in graveyard grass
beneath where stone-gray mountains grow.
Grace, feel the insects wriggle past

the way our hands and bodies mesh.
And as our blood begins to flow
I lay you down in graveyard grass

to breathe-in sweet decay’s morass
of blackened earth and what’s below.
Grace, feel the insects wriggle past

our muffled sighs until, at last,
a shaded scythe seems apropos.
I thrust inside the graveyard grass

for both the first time and the last,
then kiss you twice before I go.
Grace, feel the insects wriggle past

the way you slowly lose your grasp
and smile now because you know
I’ll rest your head in graveyard grass.







Danny Earl Simmons is an Oregonian, a friend of the Linn-Benton Community College Poetry Club, and an active member of Albany Civic Theater. His poems have appeared in a variety of journals such as The Pedestal Magazine, Naugatuck River Review, Off the Coast, IthacaLit, and Fifth Wednesday Journal.

October 24, 2014

Nobody Really Loves Anybody by Colin James

A stone path with a high dirt periphery.
Signs of attempted escape,
footholds dug into weathered walls.
The sea should be quite close.
I had intended to pack our lunch in wax paper,
then fold the creases back into something smooth,
but I loitered too long near your vestibule.
The wastefulness is just reaching me now. 






Colin James has a chapbook of poems, Dreams of the Really Annoyingout from  writingknightspress@gmail.com.      

October 22, 2014

Two Poems by Byron Beynon



THE NIGHT CAFÉ
after the painting by Vincent Van Gogh

The after midnight atmosphere
with immobile customers
ruined by drink,
the nightmare of blood-
red walls, the white
clothes of the landlord
standing near
a green billiard table
with the growing shadow
threatening away time
on the floor-boards;
the terror which makes
the night more beautiful
burning under
the demon-yellow lamps.




LABYRINTH

The frustration of his past
is the message
I tune into.
Trying to decipher
the crossed lines
I think of a seam
miles west of here
where he breathed
inside a maze of legends;
sweetened roses,
invisible perfume
emanating from death
flowers filling his cushion of air.
A hacked face
unravelled his strength,
a puckered rendezvous
already conceived
in poison and dust.






Byron Beynon's work has appeared in several publications including Poppy Road Review, London Magazine, Poetry Ireland, The Spoon River Poetry Review, The Blue Hour and Kentucky Review. Collections include The Sundial (Flutter Press), Human Shores (Lapwing Publications, Belfast) and The Echoing Coastline (Agenda Editions).

October 20, 2014

Clock Maker by Michael Lee Johnson

Solo, I am clock maker
born September 22nd,
a Virgo/Libra mix insane,
look at my moving parts, apart yet together,
holes in air, artistic perfection,
mechanical misfits everywhere,
life is a brass lever, a wordsmith, an artist at his craft.
Clock maker, poet tease, and squeeze tweezers.
I am a life looking through microscope,
screen shots, snapshot tools,
mainsprings, swing pendulum, endless hours,
then again, ears open tick then a tock.
Over humor and the last brass bend,
when I hear a hair move its breath,
I know I am the clock waiter,
the clock maker listens-
a tick, then a tock.







Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era:  now known as the Illinois poet, from Itasca, IL.  Today he is a poet, freelance writer, photographer who experiments with poetography (blending poetry with photography), and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois, who has been published in more than 875 small press magazines in 27 countries, he edits 9 poetry sites.  Michael is the author of The Lost American:  "From Exile to Freedom", several chapbooks of poetry, including "From Which Place the Morning Rises" and "Challenge of Night and Day", and "Chicago Poems".  He also has over 71 poetry videos on YouTube.

October 17, 2014

Eventually by Michael Keshigian

Staring from the moon
in a dream
I saw people of Earth
meander aimlessly
 
from minute cavities,
following burrows 
to dutiful destination
and back again.
 
Some moved faster
others carried more
and few were prostrate to fantasy.
Yet above each hill 
 
hovered ghosts of intentions
not resting, but preparing 
markers with singular openings 
where well meaning will be placed.







Michael Keshigian’s ninth poetry book, Dark Edges was recently released this September, 2014 by Flutter Press.  He has been widely published in numerous national and international journals and appeared as feature writer in over a dozen publications with 5 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. (michaelkeshigian.com)

October 16, 2014

Lost in Bedroom Twenty Nine by Eira Needham

Not knocking, I clunk open
the door, into a room
supposedly vacant.

She sits on a chair
by the window,
rhythmically
rocking and purring.
Sun glosses her dun mane
as it sprawls
around furrowed features.

Sorry, I breathe.
Her life entangled in bygones,
the old woman's gaze
never wanders from
the plumped-pillow face
of her baby, cradled
in a white sheet.





Eira Needham is a retired teacher, living in Birmingham UK. Her poetry is eclectic and has been published in print and online. Recent publications are in The Tower Journal, Cyclamens & Swords and Green Silk Journal. She has also been Featured Writer in West Ward Quarterly.