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Issue 3

POETS

ANTEBI, DEBBI
CLARKE, LAUREN
CUNNINGHAM, DON
DAVIDSON, TRACY
DREHMER, ALEATHIA
ELLMAN, NEIL
ENGEL, JOE
FERDON, JOEL
GOOD, HOWIE
HARRIS, HEATHER
HARTWELL, RICHARD
HOEFLER, MATTHIAS
IUPPA, M.J.
KEWIN, SIMON
LABERGE, PETER
LARKE, MAUDE
MCBRIDE, LAUREN
MOORE, M. ELAINE
NARDOLILLI, BENJAMIN
NGO, DEBORAH
PETRAS, ROBERT
RATCLIFFE, MICHAEL
SCHMIDT, WENDY
SHAPIRO, DANIEL M.
ST. PIERRE, PAT
TUSTIN, JOHN
VAN RHOADS, SHEA
WARD, ANTHONY
WEBB, DON

Daniel M. Shapiro



I feel like coral.
I may look beautiful, but
touch me and you bleed.




Daniel M. Shapiro



Open your stardust
till dawn greets your suffering
with a lone pale yell.




Deborah Ngo



Labyrinth of thoughts...
A heart of glass and
Crystal tears of sorrow




Anthony Ward



I run from myself
Aware that when Iím most tired
I will still be there




Anthony Ward



Iím deafened by sound
Hearing only the silence
Of the noise inside




Joel Ferdon



I still wear your shirt,
Old man. 1977 faded
Plaid. Your last remnant.




Joel Ferdon



Every time I look upon
My page of pink petals,
Memory creeps on blue Zhen shores.




Joel Ferdon



My books are the lovers
When the flesh is absent,
And the night is still young.




Neil Ellman



After the tide falls back
there are broken shells and weathered glass
footprints not our own.




Lauren McBride



dams and deforestation
land and people parched Ė
progress?




Peter LaBerge



lighthouse, marigold fingers
behind it clasp the paint and
drag it into the lathery sea




Tracy Davidson



a broken blue eggshell
the only sign of new life
among the gravestones




Tracy Davidson



a cloudless moonlit night
the stars brilliantly displayed
on the red carpet




Tracy Davidson



from the black heart of the forest
a kingfisher soars skyward
wings sable against the sun




Robert Petras



Moonlit beach
Palm trees swaying
Two dancers, one shadow.




Robert Petras



Computer turned off
A deer frolics outside
Image downloaded.




Wendy Schmidt



Trapped in our boxes,
Closed and apart from others,
Choose to be opened.




Debbi Antebi



Friday blues--
lonely weekend
among happy couples




M.J. Iuppa



Continual rhythm
Dip and pull, dip and pull
Invisible oars




M.J. Iuppa



Wisps of spider silks
Unravel, and floating down,
Sink beneath shadows




M. Elaine Moore



He's dreamt so long of flying free.
The cage door swings open...
Sweet freedom calls his name at last.




M. Elaine Moore



Dune grass sways,
the ocean sings her song.
I am home.




Don Cunningham



blue skies dripping half-life
children malformed
eons lost




Debbi Antebi



with a crippling fear of rejection
the pencil holds its breath--
waiting.




M. Elaine Moore



His fingertips alight her skin,
decades disappear.
Love and lust reunite




Benjamin Nardolilli



Mother, Father, Child come to the old stones
The guide tells them all they need to know,
Fantasies of buried treasure and bones.




Benjamin Nardolilli



Boat is too small, mainland too large,
The bearded men can only dream
Of iron horses and aluminum birds




Michael Ratcliffe



So long had it been
Since I held a spring blossomó
I had forgotten.




Lauren Clarke



I think I dance to a different beat
Awkward and defiant
I got no rhythm, but I got soul.




Debbi Antebi



after the fight,
she left silently with soft footsteps,
like the sound of oars against open water




Howie Good



Buds pop,
a nation of suicide bombers
in dynamite vests.




Aleathia Drehmer



There is loveliness, Iím overtaken with itó
ambushed, surprised
and falling like a petticoat




Heather Harris



Today is not breaching the water's surface
but knowing that the mud beneath my feet
holds eggs, of fishes and tadpoles.




Pat St. Pierre



Birth arrives in spring
Colorful countryside blossoms
Gravestone marks the loss.




Pat St. Pierre



Bees buzzing around
Children play in the garden
Stone statues stand still.




Pat St. Pierre



Black air swirls like a funnel
High mountains reach for the sky
Memories are lost.




John Tustin



Smoke pours from your heart
Your body an inferno
I am oxygen




John Tustin



Walking over stones
Blocked by mountains and rivers
Where am I going?




Simon Kewin



the rose glow of dawn
shows in shaded pencil lines
a whole world redrawn




Joe Engel



We handle our souls
like clumsy busboys
with fine china.




Maude Larke



Written on the back of a madrigal to spring,
Monteverdi bleeding into flash,
two halfways combine their camouflage.




Howie Good



Last night I dreamed they built
a giant bonfire. The books Iíd written
in my head refused to burn.




Shea Van Rhoads



Maybe God
may be what happens
when we listen.




Shea Van Rhoads



A snag in the sweater's story:
one long yard knit the rest together
came loose and left her bare.




Deborah Ngo



The ebb and the flow,
Waves rising to the shore...
Wetness inevitable




Richard Hartwell



spiraling downward
twisting in the summer breeze
eucalyptus leaves




Richard Hartwell



grassbound Zamboni
swirls of patterns in the lawn
thousands of dead blades




Matthias Hoefler



her pink hand
outstretched
clam shell




Don Webb



The last Aleph written
The last zahir spoken of
blind eyes close.




Don Webb



Cattle of the sun
mooing on the Liffey's bank
Shamus comes raiding.