Morning of September 12, 2023

the offspring's weight in rice the crops of sin

~Richard Magahiz

they like to dance  crypto tracking nodes glow amber

~Richard Magahiz

drunk by the feeder hummingblurred

~John Pappas

this space intentionally left blank verse

~John Pappas

armageddon

the mewl within her

peanut butter breath

~Jean-Paul Moyer

~ for Simone

my whiskers brushing both sides of the argument

~Patrick Sweeney

morning light

the heron becomes

an apostle

~John Pappas

tick

the mountains crumble

tick

you come back to me

~Richard Magahiz

slack tide

somewhere between

yes and no

~John Pappas

waiting out the rain

on a borrowed front porch –

the storm as company

~Jennifer Gurney

post-war existentialist shuffling to the broken rail in a ruined church

~Patrick Sweeney

the dynamic uncertainty of the butterfly's journey

~Patrick Sweeney

shopping for pillows with the left side of her head

~Patrick Sweeney

Evening of September 9, 2023

ruins speak the language of stones

we are all giant boulders

beside the eternal river of silence

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in Zin Daily)

String theory

The light from distant stars;

Could be merely

Light reflection from

The bottom of a leaf?

~David Eberhardt

Boxing before and after midnight

Basketball in the morning

Football match in the afternoon

War tomorrow on schedule

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

(Originally published in INTERALIA MAGAZINE)

carcinogens

roost near the dusk like pigeons

 

on strange wings

strange bodies rise

~Noah Berlatsky

sixth birthday

bikers' child receives

his first leather jacket

~John J. Dunphy

scratching my words fleas

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

ominous clouds behind

     evening trees at sunset

ghosts in the branches

~Steve Van Allen

Poem after music by Albéniz - “Cordoba”

As the guitar can be

Made to sound like

A voice?

Purple flowers hover the streets

In Seville…

Jacaranda

~David Eberhardt

folding

lunar tides

origami

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Two-word poem

Rampant lizards.

~David Eberhardt

Evening of September 8, 2023

 Tickle


I feel the tickle

of stars in cells

I never knew

I was comprised of.

~Kate Langan

daily bus ride

the tobacco stained smile

of the bus driver

~Mona Bedi

No Mercy

Her fun

dam-entals

were laid down

in the for

mative years

of her youth

and honed

in the bat

tles of life.

~Kate Langan

where no one comes looking wildflowers

~Mona Bedi

shining the knife before placing on the table    divorce papers

~Arvinder Kaur

in the middle of it all stream of consciousness

~Arvinder Kaur

insomnia the world I have made inside me 

~Mona Bedi

blue moon always plus one

~JL Huffman

…and he says he loves another version of me

~Mona Bedi

Deceased

A year ago, she ceased

taking the elixir of air

into pink lungs

and died, finally

succumbing to the tempting

invitation of her diseased heart,

proffered over the two

indifferent years preceding,

and became deceased.

~Kate Langan

Bones

I am so full of noise inside

I rattle when I walk.

~Kate Langan

selfies

accidental pictures

of my feet

~Linda L Ludwig

holding the shape of his bunion grandpa's moccasins

~Arvinder Kaur

Shoo

Anger all evening

eating up the space

between the brain cells!

Get you gone

~Kate Langan