Morning of May 25, 2024


 

 

enemy soldiers stationed on an island

sailed a motorboat to a local bar

at the end of the world

~Fhen M




battle fatigue a spoonful of jam or two in the smallest cup

~Alan Summers




somewhere in the southern mountain

a Hollywood actor used a binocular

to measure the speed of a fake enemy ship

~Fhen M




warring neighbours

the oak and banyan meet

over the wall

~Ranu Jain




child warriors Molotov mocktails

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




summit—

the diplomat adds rum

to her coffee

~Sharon Ferrante




The Argonaut Octopus Detaches his Loaded Arm


Socially distanced sex makes babies too.

Masks optional.

~Cheryl Snell




how did it feel

dear moon

the rocket on your skin?

~Ranu Jain




weeding

in the herb garden —

it’s not rocket

~Mark Gilbert




Curtain Call



Summer concert in the round. 

Mad applause.

Reviews noted that

no mosquitoes survived.

~Cheryl Snell




skeletons rose from a forgotten graveyard

no fresh flowers were offered to the dead

~Fhen M




The 30th Month


the waiting room crosses over


its magazines updated

its puzzles solved


an inner hurricane

by the sunset


black new moon

all our names pass

through shadows

~Alan Summers




what does it matter antimatter anyway

~Mark Gilbert




They this They that They are Whoever you want Them to be

~Mark Gilbert




We Leave a Screening of Real Genius When Someone Yells Fire


...and we’re running

past extinguishers and alarms,

watching the theater explode with popcorn,

kernels rising into the damaged sky 

like so much applause.

~Cheryl Snell



Afternoon of May 22, 2024


 

 

 

 

 

 

The Commitmentphobe

~Kelly Moyer


 





 summer squall

a sudden flurry

of fast food napkins

~John Pappas




Manunggul jar ferries a soul

to the land of the dead

~Fhen M.




forgotten veteran of a

forgotten war buried in a

forgotten cemetery

~John J. Dunphy




closing time

barfly exits through

the restroom door

~John J. Dunphy




he escapes by sea

she adjusts

her monogram

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




pauper's burial

his eulogy delivered

by cicadas

~John J. Dunphy




dinner at the mall

savoring leftovers

from trash cans

~Surya Nes




white clover

the field fills with

the om of bees

~John Pappas




picnic for two

now three…

the robber fly

~Elliot Diamond




evening chill

on the welcome sign

faded paint

~John Pappas




I think I could be happy

if only I had no ambitions.

But here too I have failed.

~Noah Berlatsky




the fiercest of battles

may the best dragon win

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




he pledges his

allegiance to the spice rack—

deviled eggs

~David Cox




a self-inflicted hidden agenda

~Patrick Sweeney




wait, what am I trying to say?

~Fhen M.




people who think they know a short cut

~Patrick Sweeney




funeral hymn the dust on model planes

~John Pappas




she has me on a 30-second delay

~Patrick Sweeney




once upon a twice

~Roberta Beach Jacobson




it's really all just an excuse for woolgathering

~Patrick Sweeney












The Construct

~Kelly Moyer

 

 



Morning of May 20, 2024

 


high-rise balcony—

a potted plant leans

towards the edge of escape

~Nalini Shetty




The Alternate Universe Routine


William S. Burroughs

does stand-up

Lenny Bruce

writes novels

WSB doesn't kill his wife

Lenny never gets arrested

~dan smith




Revenge of madness

Little gophers of construction in the palm of hopes


Guns screamed

The end of all roads

We swam out to drown

The only prospect is waiting

~Mykyta Ryzhykh


(Originally published in
Tipton poetry Journal )




One or two glowworms


The squinted looks

Throughout the day.

Where should I flee?

Comes the evening.

I hide behind the undergrowth.

There are one or two extinct glowworms.

I get shelter and save my identity.

~Partha Sarkar




counting flower petals thinking about Ophelia trying to stay sane

~Joana Figueiredo




crushing my eyelids together my refusal to cry

~Joana Figueiredo




mad woman

casting ashes to the wind

grieving myself

~Joana Figueiredo




You don't come home

You don't come to the neighbors

You don't come to me

You don't come to your senses

You can't take out the trash

You don't clean your ears

Looks like I died

Inside your head

~Mykyta Ryzhykh


(Originally published in
Tipton poetry Journal )




dead black beetle

inside Angel’s Trumpet--

a blissful death

~Tejendra Sherchan




dragging my legs home

all my flickering lights

about to go out

~Joana Figueiredo




all the way to Mars

Fido dreamed of the wind

on his face

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




one more asteroid

nudged across Earth's orbit

dirty pool

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




So Here We Are


under the bright moon

tearing apart this sheep

our partners

and bare-skinned children

toss in their beds

dream of monsters

with human faces

and long sharp teeth

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




The Ghost of Phil Ochs Floats Over Lincoln Park Like Tear Gas

four days in August 2024

fifty-six years on

~dan smith




At last dies every day the innocent


At last died the innocent.

It had been suffering for a long time

Perhaps from helplessness

Or one of its souls might be broken by Time.

However I put it on the grass by the dustbin

And despite being sad, I wait for another tonight


With my companion - the sad note of saxophone.

~Partha Sarka




empty nest

in a bead tree—

egg moon above

~Tejendra Sherchan




milk moon

her tender gaze I drink

almond beverages now

~Madeleine Kavanagh




wi-fi signals

connecting everyone

yet not connecting

~Nalini Shetty




this poem

will not be written

by anyone because the author

will go to the supermarket for vodka

and never come back

~Mykyta Ryzhykh


(Originally published in
Tipton poetry Journal )




crowded subway—

our eyes meet and then retreat

alone together

~Nalini Shetty




A bird doesn't know it's a bird.

A stone doesn't know it's a stone.

Like them, I know who I am.

~Noah Berlatsky




watercress

every time I open the fridge

there you are

~Madeleine Kavanagh

Morning of May 18, 2024

 








~Jerome Berglund




the alloy steel hips

pitched well forward

the groomsmen

checked for

perpendicularity

~Richard Magahiz




my mistress' eyes

are nothing like

fuel pellets

~Richard Magahiz




in tissue temples  pasteboard altars

~Richard Magahiz




there could have been

only the one sun

but no

~Richard Magahiz




glass, vodka-clear,

slicing gold with a

bamboo edge

~Richard Magahiz




Dark purple, deep purple, adolescent angst

Dark purple, deep purple, menopausal freedom

Say what comes into your head, no filter, no mask

Don't think twice, follow your heart, no need to ask


Dramatic colour of ritual and rite

Dramatic colour stolen in the night

No pastel tones, no wishy-washy clones

In your face, purple is no disgrace

~Olinda Ninolakis




old age

like adolescence

home by nine

~Chris Collins




Hope stealers

They pluck the sun

right out of the sky

~Angela Evans




Poetry trigger

Middle of the night

nausea

~Angela Evans




Barbie love

Women rule

in a dream house

~Angela Evans




urban birdsong

harmonizing with

traffic

~Jennifer Gurney




horns twisted by some strong half-god

carabao lies on the grassland

~Fhen M.




when, invaders, are, near,

they may run

~Fhen M.




when proper channels

have been diverted...

connect four

~Jerome Berglund




solar flares

tinfoil

on the tube

~Jerome Berglund




blues harp

different kinds

of flight risk

~Jerome Berglund

 



Afternoon of May 16, 2024

 

The Overlord

~Kelly Moyer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

spring storm

the dialogue interrupted

by a short circuit

~Nicoletta Ignatti




flea


it danced it here now there again

and sprang its music deep upon me

i speak i speak i speak i speak

sucking out a sip of me for it to live

a fat disgust a hot sink drowning

a crushing between fingernails

i this god dispense

in answer to its helpless daring

while i this flea am honoured here

in answer to my need

and worse and worse expect it

~Harry Owen




Springtime spiders, cute and small,

skitter up the hallway wall,

kitchen counter, kitchen chair,

weft their webs within your hair.

~Terry Trowbridge




red traffic light

sitting behind the motorist

a zip-tied barbie

~Tuyet Van Do




dry gin the empty quarter in my mind map

~John Hawkhead

 

 


in the desert (when I stop thinking of it) an oasis

~Arvinder Kaur

 

 


carbon credit to absolutely no one

~John Hawkhead




clothes shopping —

the men in dire need

of a woman

~Maurizio Brancaleoni




I see a silent film star

working in a shop

She tends the till, wraps the gifts.


She looks up slightly to the left

never straight at me.

Her skin is celluloid

The day is black and white

~Sarah Davies




GPS tells me

I am on the fastest route

to perdition

~James Penha




deserted island


i'm not

a man so maybe

i'm an island,

hopefully a deserted one;

i don't want people

walking all over me.

~linda m. crate




no wonder the lily

blooms just for a day

this world of men

~Arvinder Kaur



BE WARNED


if you’re

sitting by yourself

in a coffee shop

and reading

something by

Thomas Pynchon

I cannot be

responsible

for my

undivided

attention

~John Grey

 



Closure

~Michael Lee Johnson