Sunday, 29 January 2012

Shannon Eddy


Gradually

Or among the flush
The trickle cultivates

Until no habit
Is left uninterested

Wince. Realign.
Unknown headwaters

Creek crawling, branches
Off in capillaries

As saplings often do.
Choose-

Act (or) react?
No man is furniture

Momentum only arrives
As dams ebb, on stilts,

As dried earth’s jowl
Rills riverbeds upwards

Out of once
Stagnant streams.




Shannon Eddy graduated from the University of Rhode Island with a BA in English in 2009. Before and since graduation he has worked with the Ocean State Summer Writer’s Conference. His poems can be found online and in print at Chaparral, The Splinter Generation, and The Naugatuck River Review as well as others.

Saturday, 28 January 2012

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal



Let's Go Away

Let's go away
like birds singing
and rest for a bit
on a giant tree
and sing some more.

The afternoon sky
seems peaceful.
There is no
afternoon like this one.
Let's fly high.

Fly with me
to another town.
Fly with me again
in a circle
above the garden
by the pepper tree.

Fly away with me.
I feel so lonely.
Without you
my singing voice
is blue. Let's go
into the afternoon
singing together.



Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA. His poetry book, Peering into the Sun, was published by Poet's Democracy. His poetry chapbook, Songs for Oblivion, will be published by Alternating Current Press.


Friday, 27 January 2012

A.g. Synclair



Alternating Perspectives of Unreality

I

It is, as she said, static. Perception, 
like magic, cannot be engineered.

II

We are sometimes ravens, or scarecrows
I cut a metaphor and it bleeds on both.



A.g. Synclair is the editor and publisher of The Montucky Review, a journal of poetry & prose. He doesn't have an MFA in anything but still manages to publish regularly. He lives, writes, and collaborates in southwestern Montana with his significant other, the artist and poet Heather Brager.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Felino A. Soriano



morning this fragmented salutation


abridged

the hand of your repose
visceral, raises a saluting manifest
toward
experiential understanding, amid
cultural rejoice within awakening’s
multilingual aggregations

revealed

ascend
the body becomes vertical accentuation,
mobilizing ambulation
performing silent steps of a dancer’s
earliest exclamation—
portend behind curtain’s opaque clarity
the retreat becomes history of horizons and
desolate retrieval of the mind’s
elongated and interrelated
grasping

noon

all motion now adjusted,
the bend of each moment’s
ascertained concern
relives echo of effort’s rejoice:
the rest of morning’s silence
confirms adjusted emblems as
sacred dualities of darkened cycles,
isolated certainties



Felino A. Soriano is a case manager and advocate for adults with developmental and physical disabilities. Recent poetry collections include Intentions of Aligned Demarcations (Desperanto, 2011), Pathos etched, recalled: (white sky books, 2011), and Divaricated, Spatial Aggregates (limit cycle press, 2011). He edits and publishes the online journal, Counterexample Poetics. For information regarding his published works, editorships, and interviews, please visit: www.felinoasoriano.info.

Friday, 20 January 2012

Kenny Fame


Protective Moon

Blink
of an eye you appear

lost
in the clutch of night. Half

dazed
a distorted frown

hovers above. Moon
you remind me of the local

police. All
I have to do is picture

you
breaking through that

wall painted midnight
& clouded in complete silence.



Kenny Fame the poet also known as K*Fame, is a writer that was born and raised in Paterson, New Jersey, which is also the hometown of one of his favorite poets Allen Ginsberg; he currently resides in Harlem NY. He is a CUNY/English Major in NYC.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

John Swain


At the Ceiling

Moon of lights
on the dark walk
in the tall grass.
A girl in furs
with black flowers
in blonde hair.
I secured balance
in tree movement,
stars dripping.
The dogs bay
in rage at silence
and a trespass
into the fearing.
I struck with fist
at the ceiling
of this red dirt.



John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky, USA. Thunderclap Press published his most recent chapbook, Fragments of Calendars.