Tag: Poetry

by Jawn Van Jacobs If my father is an angelthen I am Nephilim –standing skyscrapers higherthan all other of God’s children –I can stomp out men like grasshoppers –pluck ammunition like splinters –survival is more a symptom whenyou’ve never had a protector. Are these my father’s traitsinherited through the same fate?He, too, had a father…

by Ava Grace I keep sticking my finger In the socket to feel something and i keep my hand on the stove to feelsomethingBut I keep coming back to you to feel thisI’ve been sitting out in the sun for too long and I can feel my insides turn to mush I can feel this…

by Amy B. Miller The shell wasn’t soggy.The cream didn’t split. It didn’tfall to the floor, orget eaten by someone rude. It triggered a memory: I make cream puffs.Sometimes. Mostly when showing off oron special occasions. I tend to overfillthe shells with excessive amountsof cream. Generous, is how I think of it. One bite and…

by Grace Jaycox I’m so tired I feel as though I may cry.You wonder if the worship service will ever end. At least the music is decent.I always had a fondness for this band.You are talked to for a little while,But really she’s talking to your sister.Everyone talks to her.I’m not jealous.You don’t have the…

by Aubrey Accomando You once told me that my body was yours,that it was proudly owned by you.Did that mean all of my insecurities were yours, too?All the tears shed looking in the mirror?The squeezing of my stomach—begging to look like someone else?The times my head throbbed from not eating?The unwelcomed hands that touched my…

by Alyssa Troy i shuffle through relicsfrom the wreckage ofmy adolescent archivesand resurrect an albumone month’s allowance paid forthat hosts images of modelsbearing no resemblance to mypudgy, pear shaped bodyi wish cutting up the pagescould have killed their allure i followed every dietthe magazines possessedto see my face reflectedon its laminated skinsto no avail i…

by Alexis Gostelow I am made of the clock tickingAt one and two, right after lunchWhen I left class,Walked through concrete hallwaysTo sit alone, surrounded by cementbrick walls and metal benchesAfraid someone would see I was whereI shouldn’t beDawdling in the cold,Watching time change shadows About the Author: Alexis Gostelow is a professional in the…

by James Engelhardt Dungeons and Dragons, Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson Tactical Studies Rules, Inc., 1974 About the AuthorJames Engelhardt’s poems have appeared in the North American Review, Sheila-Na-Gig, ACM: Another Chicago Magazine, Terrain.org, Painted Bride Quarterly, Fourth River, and many others. His ecopoetry manifesto is “The Language Habitat,” and his book, Bone Willows, is…

by Justin Evans One of the last robins of the yearleft yesterday, cutting across myperipheral as I turned into my streetat sunrise, driving east for an appointmentsome hours away―both tryingfor an early start. I made it there andback in time for supper, but I worry nowover that bird, wonder if it found safetyin the waning…

by John Grey Lusty, lustrous summer afternoon,the pond air still,the egret is even stilleras it feigns a humble stalk with feetwhile its keen eye surveysthe waters below. Beak like an arrowand the stealth of a spy –it’s a bird whose formis everything its functioncould ask for. I watch from the other shoreas it finally takes…