Two Summers Ago by Michael Holme

I wept. Life

began to close in.

Daylight was a veiled bride

and nighttime was Valium.

Sleep was over fifteen

thousand reminders

of my foolish longings.

I’d woke in company

four times.

I gradually thawed. 

Life stubbornly moulds,

dragging its own scruff.

Two summers ago

metamorphosis began.

I mock lovers

and religious sheep.

We’re levelled,

that’s it:

furness plumes sinking,

seeding our arboreal continuance.

Michael Holme is an English poet and musician. When not reading, writing or playing he’s online. Some of his poems can be googled, others are in print in Boston Literary Magazine, Kestrel, Time of Singing and PRR. He studied poetry with Alison Chisholm.

Revelations in the Thrift Store by Richard Schnap

Here is a doll with a painted smile

And eyes as hollow as a ghost’s

Here is a book by an obscure author

That’s been out of print for a decade

Here is a dress from someone’s closet

In fashion for only a season

Here is a chair that once faced a desk

From a company long out of business

And I see a young girl falling in love

Leaving her childhood behind her

And a pile of notebooks left by the curb

Their words disappearing in the rain

And a mirror in a chic department store

Reflecting what the stars now endorse

And an old man passing a vacant lot

Where once stood the story of his life

Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.

Interview w/ Poet Rose Mary Boehm

1.  When did you start writing poetry and why?

Apparently my first ‘poem’ was set to song (by me) when I was three (smile). Being German born and -raised, this happened in the German language, of course. Later, still in German, I wrote much angst and melancholy, mostly in rhyme. But I also did funny. After 15 years of living in London, I felt secure enough in my new language to write prose again. I took me another 10 years to feel I had the right to write poetry in English, because by then my mother tongue needed crutches from lack of use.   Poetry has a way of writing itself. I like that, but, of course, craft has to hone spontaneity.  I am passionate about language and ‘the word’, about ‘painting’ a scene, capturing those between the-line moments, and hopefully—almost like an impressionist painter—daubing my whitepage with words in order to then stand back and see the whole as it comes together.

2.  What is your writing process?

The technical part: I use the computer which allows me to correct easily, to change my mind, to replace one word with the other, see the poem emerge, swap stanzas, rearrange line breaks, to put a poem on the shelf, TO DELETE(!)… the computer has opened a new world for the way I work.

3.  Which poets throughout time have influenced your writing?

Again, coming from another language one brings a can of different worms to the process of creation with words. With every language you learn a different way of thinking, culture, obsessions, predilections, religion, prejudices, habits. Through time? It’s a looong list, among which stand out perhaps Tucholsky, Kästner, Morgenstern, Enzensberger, Plath, Thomas, Eliot and, of course, Blake & co… and here, in order not to fill three pages, I leave out more recent poets I admire tremendously as in Collins, Frost, Stevens, Cummings, Sandburg, etc…  There are also many present-day young and not so young poets who have not as yet achieved the fame they deserve who also rank very highly on my list.

4.  What do you consider your poetic style to be?

I really don’t know how to answer this question, since I don’t belong to a particular poetic group. I ‘do’ lyrical, speculative, political, even funny, whatever takes my fancy; and I tend to imagine that my style adapts to each subject matter. I mainly write free verse, but I have dabbled in form and rhyme, especially when I am ‘playing’.

5.  What topics do you tend to write about?

Anything and everything, but somehow Peru, where I live, gets a regular look in, as well as Germany during WWII when/where I was a child.

6.   What advice would you give to a novice poet? 

Read poetry. The classics, the romantics, the beatniks, whoever is out there now doing different stuff. Like a student of the fine arts, read and emulate, get the feel of what ‘they’ did, how they did it, what were their tools, what’s in their ‘trick’ box to make a poem memorable. Then let go and bravely swim away.  And: poetry is NOT ‘letting it all hang out’.  It’s that as well, but it’s not enough. Having confessed, you need to craft your confession and make a reader wanting to join you on your journey.  Listen to others, seek critique, cut your favourite lines (not always).

7.  What advice would you offer to someone who is frustrated because his/her work is constantly being rejected by journals he/she submits to?

Join a workshop. Ask those whose work you respect and trust for an honest opinion regarding your writing. If these persons confirm that you’re on the right path, submit, submit, submit and never mind the rejections. You’ll break the vicious circle eventually. But do yourself a favour: read the magazine/journal to which you’re submitting before doing so in order to suss out what they want. Don’t send a lyrical poem about spring to a magazine specializing in hard-hitting political commentary. 

8.  What is your ultimate goal as a poet?  Are there any specific awards or prizes you strive for?

It is nice to see one’s work recognized—of course it is. However, first of all I write for myself, then I would like my work to be read to share the experience. But one thing is writing and being read (and the satisfaction of being published), another it ‘striving’ for recognition. I am sure it would be welcome were it ever to happen, but totally unnecessary for my satisfaction and delight in a successful (as far as I am concerned) poem.  

  

Two Photos by Colin Passman

These photos were taken near Colin's home in Pennsylvania.


Colin Passman is a Digital Media major at East Stroudsburg University where he studies photography, video, and graphic design.  His photographs have been featured in the Calliope literary magazine and The Pocono Record.  In addition to photography, he has written and produced silent films and documentaries which can be viewed on his YouTube channel.  Mr. Passman is a native of Jamison, Pennsylvania.

Two Poems by Taylor Graham

Casting Shadows

            High school girl missing….

 

Not far from town, that peaceful forest road

edged by black oak, pine, and cedar;

my dogs casting for scents on a fresh breeze;

scanning deer-prints in the dust of early June;

as if there were no other characters

in the cast of that quiet scene, mountains

mined long ago for their gold; left to heal

themselves. And yet, unease

            as if I sensed, on the ridge above,

her shadow behind a log, bones

not yet covered with leaf- and needle-fall.

Earthworms leaving castings in soil.

The spell that ghosts cast.

 

 

Witnesses

 

On everyday mornings, marvels. Magic,

 

to survive the so-close crash at our very gate –

no one we knew, but still we keep a photo

of the wreck. Each witness carries a long wake

 

as the jaws of life shear away everything

we counted on. Security of a steel box, safe cage

of ribs to hold heart and breath. Gems

of windshield glass on the shoulder, shaken

 

like salt into the raw of dreams. Years after

disaster, people still dress for work, and pray

for peace, another day. And mourning doves rise

from the witness field. This magic, to be alive.

Taylor Graham is a volunteer search-and-rescue dog handler in El Dorado County. Her poems have appeared in The Iowa Review, The New York Quarterly, Poetry International, and Southern Humanities Review. Her latest book is What the Wind Says (Lummox Press, 2013), about living, training and searching with her canine partners.

Two Poems by Michael Lee Johnson

Missing of the Birds 

Keep my journal short.

Just review January through March.

Life is a dig deep snow on my sorrow.

Bare bones of naked sparrows,

beneath my balcony, lie lifeless.

The few survivors huddle in bushes.

Gone, gone is kitchen bowl that holds the seeds.

Sparrows cannot get inside my refrigerator door

nor shop late at Wal-Mart during winter hours−

get away with it.

I drink dated milk.  I host rehearsals of childhood.

Sip Mogen David Concord Wine with Diet 7Up.

Down sweet molasses and pancake butter.

I give in to condominium Polish demands.

My neighbor's parties, loud blast language.

I am weak in the Jesus feeding of the poor.

I now merge day with night and sleep

avoid my shame and guilt.

I try clean, my thoughts of shell spotted snow.

I see fragments, no more feeding of the birds.

Heaven is My Horse Fly

A common horse fly

travels in my world,

in my bathroom,

it is summer time

lands on my toilet seat

dines at Nikki's

kitty litter box refuels.

Twenty three times

round trip

buzzes my skull skin my head

he calls them short runs.

Steady pilot, good mileage,

frequent flier credits.

I swat his war journey,

splat, downed, then an abrupt end.

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 750 small press magazines in 26 countries, he edits 7 poetry sites.  Michael is the author of The Lost American:  From Exile to Freedom (136 pages book), several chapbooks of poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises and Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems.  He also has over 69 poetry videos on YouTube.

The Lacemaker by Byron Beynon

The Lacemaker

after the painting by Jan Vermeer (1632-1675)

You sense his eyes

scrutinizing her as she works

in a busy space of her own.

The fingers and eyes

are a team,

edges of colours

about to be transformed.

Her presiding head

tilted over

threads and needles

like a praying-mantis.

The skill of creation,

hushed in time,

waiting for

the birth of patience

that will arrive

into a transfixed world.

Byron Beynon lives in Wales. His work has appeared in several publications including The Warwick Review, London Magazine, Poetry Wales and Cyphers. Recent collections include The Sundial (Flutter Press) and The Echoing Coastline (Agenda Editions).

Annual Print Edition, 2013

Poppy Road Review's Annual Print Edition, 2013, is now available on Amazon and Createspace.  This beautiful 116-page book features all poets published in 2013, to include Mary Jo Balistreri, Byron Beynon, Joan L. Cannon, Sara Biggs Chaney, Kyle Hemmings, M.J. Iuppa, Michael Keshigian, Steve Klepetar, Donal Mahoney, Arlene L. Mandell, Joan McNerney, Al Ortolani, James Owens, Scott Owens, L.C. Ricardo, Richard Schnap, Samantha Seto, Jeanine Stevens, John Swain, Martin Willitts Jr., and many others. 

The poppy cover photo was generously provided by James Owens and his poppy images may be located in the "Art" link at the bottom of the page.

I'm working on the 2011 and 2012 print editions but it is a very slow process, so stay tuned for the release of those books in the future.  I hope that you'll consider acquiring a copy or two for your personal collection; it would also make a thoughtful gift to give a friend or family member who enjoys poetry.  I absolutely cherish my copy.

Two Poems by Rose Mary Boehm

I once had a garden

I

Spring the blues,

burst from black, hard and white

push open the crust.

Ice is bigger than water.

That is the kind of enchantment

which comes with March.

Snowdrops cut through remaining crystal blankets,

bamboo shoots push through grey flesh,

man’s impatience will force paperwhite.

  

II

While the earth is still drowsy, chattering daffodils

annoy the pious iris reticulate;

forscythia and scilla bloom

beneath the soft branches of pussy willow.

Break open the word.

Tulips stand to attention before

they give in to gravity and bend their

heavy heads in acquiescence.

Rhododendron show off in red and white,

pink azaleas look down, abashed.

For more see muscari, redbud, dogwood,

magnolia, trillium, and primrose.

Witch hazel flies by moonlit night,

croci knit multicoloured dream coats

while helleboreae modestly wait

for the upbeat. Camelia plays

hard to get but offers itself

as boutonnière; and I get drunk

on lilly of the valley and peonies

under the nearby lilac tree.

A remembered Spring is boundless.

Never more than now

I read a poem about silent growing. Not like the grass

making a racket or the holly scratching and whispering

behind thick roots about magic as though memory makes up

for loss. It walked through me then and left behind stillness

and wonder, grassland and willow, soft brown muzzles and ruminations,

the chatterings of droplets on moss, the rustling water rat

and coolness. Coolness. Then the cloud rolled in from the sea

and broke over the mountain.

German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (TANGENTS), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in many major poetry reviews. 

Interview w/ Poet Michael Keshigian

1.  When did you start writing poetry and why?

You could say that I transitioned into poetry from music.  I've been a performing musician and educator for most of my life with undergraduate and post graduate degrees in performance and musicology.  The close relationship of both disciplines attracted my  attention to the written word, especially poetry, where musical characteristics are most prevalent.  It seemed natural therefore, to utilize rhythmic and melodic concepts within the concise and articulate format of poetry. That's been going on now for about 20 years, providing another gratifying creative outlet.

2.  What is your writing process?

The writing process begins with an appreciation for those poets and writers who have contributed to the growth of the genre.  I tend to do much reading, which I believe fosters a solid foundation for the creative process.  Beyond that, I tend to write about events with which I am familiar, personal experiences and interactions with interesting people.  That being said, I rarely carry a full blown idea with me to the keyboard, but rather plant a seed on the screen and work on it until it blossoms into something that is satisfying.  Although it is cliche, the words seemingly have a tendency to write themselves.

3.  Which poets throughout time have influenced your writing?It is difficult to name one or two poets as leading influences.  Usually I move from one poet to another and discover that poet's idiosyncrasy and the uniqueness he/she brings to the discipline.  With that appreciation come a synthesis of styles and influences that allows me to trickle out my own expression.

4.  What do you consider your poetic style to be?  Most of my writing is free verse though my earliest attempts were in more traditional forms.  I've also dabbled with haiku and other fixed line forms.

5.  What topics do you tend to write about?Almost anything can trigger an internal urge to write a poem, any single, momentary experience to a monumental event that has touched the lives of many.

6.  What advice would you give to a novice poet?

The process begins with becoming aware of oneself; tendencies, idiosyncrasies that are salient characteristics that offer you your perspective of life and the world.  Take that perspective and foster its growth on the written page.  But it is not all about inspiration.  Read and learn from those who have developed the technique to become successful.  Synthesize your imagination with familiarity and the technical ability to deliver your message.

7.  What advice would you offer to someone who is frustrated because his/her work is constantly being rejected by journals he/she submits to?
Identify the problem.  It might be as simple as finding the proper venue for your efforts.  If constructive criticism is offered, re-evaluate your delivery without sacrificing your intent.  There is an editor out there who will like your subject matter if you know of what you write and your technique sells the product.  Above all, be persistent.  Most times, it really does boil down to a matter of taste.

8.  What is your ultimate goal as a poet?  Are there any specific awards or prizes you strive for?

Just to keep on writing with the hope that those who read my efforts take a piece of my insight with them. An ah ha moment, if you will.  Awards and prizes can be satisfying by-products, but the ultimate goal is to get your message out and your perspective acknowledged, which essentially translates into continued publication.

Diagnosis by Richard Schnap

There was an animal inside him

That kept changing shape

That wore different faces




A ravenous rat

With a ceaseless hunger

Burrowing through garbage




A cold-blooded snake

Coiled around itself

Drinking its own venom




A maddened dog

Crouched in the shadows

Howling at ghosts




And an earthbound bird

With a broken wing

Dreaming of the sky

Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.

Legacy by Michael Keshigian

Town of his birth, he is rushing back

to the house of his infant years,

escaping throngs of cars

and frenzied employees

that clutter city sidewalks,

searching with his headlights bright

for the narrow country roads

that lead to the place

of his grandfather’s voluntary exile.

To the chagrin of co-workers

and business bosses,

he is consumed, a knight,

galloping backward in time

toward the black and white world

of family history to save the home

and the barely valuable heirlooms

of his predecessors, significant only

in longevity and the decades of old fingerprints

that might have survived,

family portraits, antique bedrooms,

the grand piano he never learned how to play.

Tonight, within the seclusion

of secrets and memories,

he will clean and pamper them,

listen to all their stories,

and accept them again as house guests,

at least for another lifetime.

Michael Keshigian, author of eight poetry books, has been widely published in numerous national and international journals. He is a 5-time Pushcart Prize and 2-time Best Of The Net nominee. (michaelkeshigian.com)