BE YOUR MATE

I know right now!
your thoughts are fully opaque.
You want to give your life a retake.
Because this world is acting like a snake.
Your mind is under a terrible quake.
And soul is suffering from an untold ache.

Ohh Pretty!
It's time to take a decision for your own sake.
Firstly, take a short social media break.
Rise early and bake a cake.
Go to a park or lake.
Just listen the chirping birds and eat that cake.
Write a poem and don't be fake.
Give yourself some space and accept your mistakes.
Be you and don't follow others like copy paste.

Sit on a fresh grass and put aside your hate.
Pray to GOD and count blessings of your fate.
It's hard but have patience and just wait.

You are doing well, so don't underestimate.
Take a deep breath and enjoy your present state.
Instead of becoming your own slave, be your own good mate. Believe me!
You will feel better after this mini escape.

Non-Quickening 

A crow alerts me 
to the end 
of the ultrasound 
that was even worse than mine 

The crib fills up 
with anything else 
an unnoticed smoke trail 
arcs into your room 

At the undertaker’s house 
with your powerful words 
never heard
receding
you can imagine 
being the only static patient 
that is not a good exit 

Forwarded to the water 
a morning walk through the woods 
the only path for you is
somewhere in a book forgotten




A Crack in the Screenshot

according to the sea 
film replaced lore 

damaged literature 
rub in the darkness 

when the sun feels like a cataract 
the isolated war in my palm dies

hang on to your eyes 
when you're not seen 


Bangananaramma

At a moment stolen 
from the now seeded days 
the Tantric mantra called 
for elopement 

We will be visiting 
the temple of Helacharya
a mandala of ganas 
fought for the first day of summer 
saying her name and name of her youth 

Inscriptions honor 
an inconvenience exorcised 
of a hostile commune of frogs 
deep in the closet 

A monastic performance of blackbird tendrils tracing the landscape unfettered 
as an occult gym teacher snaps 
the high wire of impromptu kite flyovers

The evidence is silent to 
systematize the sacred

First of all, our friend and collaborator Rui Carvalho has announced the opening of our Nature Writing Contest for 2022. This is an invitation to submit poems and short stories related to trees, water, and nature conservation between now and the March 2023 deadline. More information and submission instructions here!

Also, our co-editor Kahlil Crawford and I are announcing a Latin culture-themed issue, which will be October’s first issue. Submissions for this are welcome up through the end of September. Kahlil was inspired by the works of Fernando Sorrentino, who sent in a set of stories, one of which is published in this issue. Lorraine Caputo will write the editorial letter for that issue.

Finally, we encourage you to support assistance and education, including literacy classes, for Afghan people in need through RAWA (The Revolutionary Association of Women in Afghanistan). They are looking for people to translate articles from Persian/Pashto into English and to translate the English and Pashto articles on their site into a variety of other languages.

Chimezie Ihekuna continues his half-year countdown to Christmas with a poem about traditional children’s and family celebrations in his homeland of Nigeria. Christopher Bernard also speaks to the change of seasons, describing the early beginning of fall weather in rich but sweltering farmland.

Mahbub turns towards nature as well, describing a couple who finds the beauty of their love reflected in an intricate coral reef and the timelessness of the ocean. Christina Chin and Matthew Defibaugh collaborate on another piece that’s a different sort of look at a couple on the beach.

Tanvir Islam’s poem celebrates the love between a husband and a wife, while Alimam Bolakale sends us a children’s verse style piece on romantic love. John Culp celebrates peace and love in a clever poem.

Gabriel T. Saah urges us all to embrace spiritual love, while Musa Ibrahim gives gentle calls for nurturance in interpersonal and inter-group relationships. Ike Boateng describes a quite eventful month in the life of his community in Ghana.

Md. Nurujjajman relates a tale of obsessive love turned violent, while Abdulbasit Oluwanishola laments the decay of a friendship due to someone’s being distracted by greed.

Faroq Faisal renders the motifs of a children’s story with talking animals into a meditation on betrayal from those we hope to help. R.P. Verlaine narrates the common barroom tragedies of love lost and promises broken.

Jaylan Salah’s review of John Crowley’s film Brooklyn explores a love story through the lens of the Irish immigrant protagonist’s search for home and belonging.

Shaurya Pathania’s poems show people desperate to assert themselves one way or another, calling out to the lonely road or to empty sets of clothes.

Sanjeev Sethi’s new poetry collection Wrappings in Bespoke, reviewed by Cristina Deptula, deals with aging and fitting into our world through intellectual thought. Preacher Allgood also addresses the physicality of aging through a poem about traveling with an old car and an old body.

Ian Copestick highlights a sad irony of life with chronic illness, the imprecision of our current mental health treatments and the awkwardness of life within a body. J.J. Campbell’s poems relate the wisdom and cynicism that come with age.

Akinmade Zeal’s vignette presents a father who still believes in the importance of traditional ways of raising one’s social position and a son who’s more world-weary.

Sayani Mukherjee finds joy in her incarnate experience, writing of the sensual joys of eating a juicy peach.

Michael Pollentine speaks of the stages of death, both personal and ecological. Jack Galmitz’ pieces praise commitment to social/ecological ideals while examining the element of showmanship present even in sincere heroism.

Mesfakus Salahin celebrates Bangladesh’s independence and its historical founder, and thus his own national and personal identity. Marjona Jurakulova outlines the contributions of Islamic Uzbek scientists and philosophers to world history and encourages her home country to continue fostering research and knowledge.

Jeff Crouch and Diana Magallon’s mixed media piece renders the disintegration caused by war into a grayscale surrealist film. Meanwhile, Ubali Ibrahim Hashimu hopes for the ultimate victory of peace over political and racial conflict.

Michael Ceraolo’s short sketches of stage plays speak to broad social and economic justice ideas, while Fernando Sorrentino’s drama presents “justice of the lambs” inflicted by the wronged weak banding together against the strong and cruel.

Christ Keivom evokes memory and the detritus of past lives and loves. Abubakar Auwal grieves at the loss of a dear mother and seeks to turn back time. Jim Meirose presents a stagelike drama that portrays a certain character through a loose drama about the “funeral business.”

WV Sutra remembers a singular character who cared about words and ideas and music, who marched to his own drummer.

Federico Wardal celebrates invention and genius through an article on the rediscovery of an old and anonymous play written as a tribute to Shakespeare’s ingenuity.

Dr. James Tipton, English professor at the College of Marin, also explores creativity by reviewing poet and novelist Mary Mackey’s book about her poetry, Creativity: Where Poems Begin. She offers a sober, realistic look at poetic inspiration, not from impairment, suffering, or chaos, but from thought and observation.

Christina Chin’s second poetic collaboration, with Uchechukwu Onyedikam, touches on ancient history and spirituality. J.D. Nelson contributes some more wordy experiments while Mark Young continues to work with dramatic line and color.

10


birth 

after birth



— Christina Chin



veiled in the curse

eve the queen of Eden

a dark symbolic thirst



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



9


her tornadic aura...

impossible to resist

tumbling into nothing



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



three boys

and two dogs



— Christina Chin




8


beneath devil's moon

a paradise for outcasts

to hear birds whisper



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



in a quiet room

midnight séance


— Christina Chin


7


tunnel vision

hope will arise to dawn —

sapphire blue sky



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



following 

an implosion


— Christina Chin


6


cultural dance

spin to the rhythm

of the djembe




— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



the traditional 

ritual begins



— Christina Chin



5


appeasing 

the incensed goddess 



— Christina Chin



she bends towards the divine

the arc of Ọ̀ṣun

rite of passage




— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



4


perceiving

landslides and floods



— Christina Chin



the pigeons have flown away

soaring in the rising sun

nature's freeway



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



3


a winner 

on the rostrum… 



— Christina Chin



light of her eyes

swirling around his macho body

with thrust in her heart



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



2


a record shortest day

as earth spins faster



— Christina Chin



laying trust on the universe

i bid farewell

to the passing trials




— Uchechukwu Onyedikam




1



where's she but a dream?

the beauty as well

a fabled city



— Uchechukwu Onyedikam



emerges and falls

in the river tigris



— Christina Chin

Wrappings in Bespoke, by Sanjeev Sethi, stirs up a heady brew of thoughts and elegant language. 

The very first piece, "Snatch of Schooldays" relates memories of riding the bus to school as a young child. Our protagonist "snakes his way ... contiguous to the leadfoot" to find entertaining classmates as he boards. Written in elevated grown-up language, this piece sets a tone for the collection. The bus is a repurposed military vehicle not originally made to transport children, yet the protagonist finds his way aboard. 

In a similar way, other protagonists in this book find their way into and through spaces that seem not made for them, where they must figure out how to fit. The most notable of these is older age, a stage of life that challenges the poetic speakers on different levels. Several pieces, including "Junior" and "Practitioner" explore the self-perception of aging people and the tension between the joy of accumulated intellectual insight and concern over weakening physical bodies and waning energy. 

Thought, reading, writing, and academic study also loom large in Wrappings in Bespoke. Pieces such as "Movement" and "Selfdom" reflect this, and other pieces ("Avoirdupois" and "Navigation") speak of people connecting to each other (or not) in personal relationships through the language of study and research. Some pieces bring an almost mystical tone to the celebration of the intellect, such as "Leave-Taking," which references horology while discussing the fine social art of the good-bye. 

While rarefied in tone, Wrappings is not without humor. "In Twos" mentions corporate employees joking with each other about hearing their bosses "let it rip." Some of the older age pieces present the physicality of aging in direct and amusing ways. 

While some pieces will require careful re-readings, Sanjeev Sethi's newest collection is not unreadable and will be enjoyable for many people. 

Sanjeev Sethi’s Wrappings in Bespoke is available here from Hedgehog Press.

BLIND MOTHER

I'm one of the children of that mother
With biggest and milky breasts in town
Who lives to feed the adjoining cherubs
But too blind to notice the malnutrition
Which's been drawn in crystal on her kids;
I've been down in the mouth all day long;
I told my mother and did she tell me;
Put in the ground thy ears o' son
And water them with stream of thy eyes!



SAINT

Beloved
On my journey
To thy world
I embark

Beloved
If I reach
There I'll dwell
Till sun dies

Beloved
I am saint;
I am sent
To clean your sin


NIGERIA

Behold,
Here, Nigeria is my home;
Where my parents, family and friends
Are born and raised by different hands
Do we have other place to call home?

Halt, o' brethren
Don't let others in our hearts
Plant the seed of hatred;
Lado, Ejike, Olu we're but family
Let's alone stand to face our face;

Hang on,
The land, where we sang while farming
Is now with our hands turned it abattoir;
Where we slaughter our own brothers
Who live to provide for us the foods

Listen,
Why o' brethren and when again
Shall we regain our senses?
Tell our brothers to put down their guns
So peace would be freed and go everywhere


WEARY WANDERER 


Home my abandoned heart, O' Dija

Let love be its eternal servitude

In your sacred kingdom



Clasp me in your arms, O' Dija

For my limbs grew cold

Strap my aching body to your back



Hold onto my hands, O' Dija

I'm an eclipsed moon

In your starry sky I reshine



I'm a weary wanderer, O' Dija

Take me to your pool

Let's swim and have ourselves anew

Riya and Tamal were very good friends. They both liked each other. Thus at one time they got involved in a relationship. They went to college together. Both of them were very brilliant students, the most brilliant students in their college. The results they achieved in the exam no other student could ever reach. They used to travel after finishing college. They used to visit different places every day. 

Sometimes they used to visit the children's park, sometimes meet on the bridge, sometimes get together at historical places. They thus became close to each other. They start getting to know each other. Riya was from a very wealthy family, but Tamal was not from that good a family. Tamal's family was only a middle class family. Over time they told each other a lot more about each other. 

One day Tamal said to Riya, "Riya, you will never leave me." Riya replied, "I love you so much Tamal. If need be you and I will die together." But it was only in their imagination, it was never going to come true. 

Their closeness could not be tolerated by their friend Kabir. He also liked Riya, but Riya did not like him. Riya was proposed to by Kabir one day, but Riya did not accept. 

Kabir followed them for days. Wherever they went, whatever they did, Kabir was taking pictures of them on his mobile phone. He also tried to find out what Riya and Tamal were talking about on their messenger apps. He decided to hack Tamal's Messenger ID. 

On the other hand, Tamal and Riya were unaware of this.  They went around as usual and Kabir followed them everyday. Kabir came to a decision one day that he would send their daily pictures to Tamal's messenger. Kabir sent the pictures to Tamal's messenger. When Tamal was looking at the pictures, Riya was with him. Riya said, "Tamal you take our pictures every day. You're doing this, right?" 

Tamal then said, "No, why should I take pictures? Kabir just sent me the pictures." Riya sees that indeed Kabir has sent all these pictures. Next day, after going to class, Riya said to Kabir, "Why are you taking our daily pictures, Kabir? I said I don't like you. Why are you not leaving me alone?" 

Then Kabir said to Riya, "Don't you know this Riya? Tamal asked me to take your picture. He used to pay me every day for that." Riya sat with her hands on her head. She didn't understand anything. 

Kabir said, "Why do you like Tamal? He's using you. He doesn't like you from his heart. He made your pictures go viral, because he will ruin your honor, he took the picture with me." Hearing this, Riya got angry and left there and did not go around with Tamal that day. 

Meanwhile, Tamal knew nothing about this. The next day, Tamal came to the college and said to Riya, "Hey Riya, why didn't you come with me today? You come with me every day. And even yesterday you didn't go for a walk with me. What happened to you?" 

Then Riya said to him, "You are not ashamed to tell me these things. You are a great big bastard. You played around with me!" 
"What are you talking about Riya?" said Tamal. 
Riya said, "I'm right. You don't like me, right? You should have said it earlier. I wouldn't go around with you anymore. You played love with me. In the name of love, you wrapped me in your magic. What do you want?" Money want money!" 

Tamal was shocked to hear Riya's words. He said to Riya, "Why are you talking so much, Riya?" 

Riya said, "I'm right, you paid Kabir to take these pictures, right?" 

Meanwhile, Kabir was trying to hack Tamal's ID. Kabir hacked Tamal's ID with the help of a hacker. Meanwhile, Tamal and Riya continued to talk. His friends started saying to them, "What are you seeing here, Riya, what are you doing, Tamal?" Then Tamal realized that these were Kabir's actions. 

But Riya was shocked to see the screenshot of the chat on Messenger! She gave Tamal a firm slap on the cheek. To Tamal she said, "Finally Kabir is right. You have finally ruined my honor." 

Tamal was shocked and said, "No, Riya I didn't do this." 

But Riya didn't believe Tamal. Tamal went home from there. Meanwhile, Riya broke down. She was being scolded by her relatives, her friends were shaming her, she couldn't bear it all. 

A few days later, Kabir proposed to Riya. Riya was surprised and said, "I already told you that I don't like you. And you and your friend did such a bad thing to me. How do you think I will like you?" 

Then Kabir said to Riya, "You have to make a choice. When I can hack Tamal's ID for you, ignite your heart against Tamal, then I can make you fall in love." 

Riya said, "What, you hacked Tamal's ID and made my pictures went viral?" 

Riya returned home crying without standing there for a minute because he did not apologize. Then she called Tamal and said she would talk to him. 

Riya apologized to Tamal in the afternoon. She said, "Tamal, it was my mistake. I misunderstood you. I thought you shamed me, I'm sorry Tamal."

Tamal remained silent. After some time he said, "I can forgive you on one condition. I must love you as before, then." 

Riya said with a smile, "Of course, Tamal. I will love you as before." Then they both joined hands and stopped as before. 

Meanwhile, Kabir could not accept this at all. When Tamal and Riya were returning home, Kabir with his friends stood in their way and said, "You love Riya a lot don't you. When Riya is not mine, she can't be anyone's!" and shot Riya. 

Riya fell on the ground. Tamal was then shocked. Tamal picked up Riya and said he will take her to the hospital. But Kabir and his friends did not let him go. They surrounded the road. They were smiling shamelessly. 

By then Riya had accepted death, before saying just one word, "I love you Tamal. Be well."