Poetry from Dana Kinsey


Instructions For Living Like Tofu

be like whoever’s nearby
softening in a saute pan 
coagulating soy milk
dying to be buffaloed

jerked    spiced    riced
burrito bowled    baked
into chocolate cream pie

ubiquitousness is nothing

terrible since marinades
drown your pores with tang
plump you like tiny teriyaki
pillows of misshapen mush

cherished only by sleepers

like you who surrender
give up resisting the chef
with his spinning knives

reeling overhead whistling
a Sinatra song as he carves
you into uniform squares
till “My Way’s” last big note 


 
Birthday Candle Remix                                      

~for Jillian


I carried you
into the world
my flame lily
Bore your candle
deep in my dim
delivered you tender 
fire bouquet in bleak
November dusk 

That gift was all I had

You carried me
into the world
my flame lily
Spiced my fading
like a saffron suncatcher  
curled about my empty
trellis climbing in bright
November dusk 

That gift was all you had

We carry us
in this world
my flame lily
We carpet cold winds
scarlet the gray velvet
bloom as we must  
resplendent in bold
November dusk   

Our nothings left light everything



My Classroom Needs a Baggage Claim  

You scurry to check-in
stack luggage 
between us 
tall leathery walls,
cumbersome trunks,
questions bulging 
out the sides. 

We strap down our pasts with bungees 
so nothing delicate unfolds.  

We hand over our devices,
but what can airport x-rays see?
		
Do 		you 		know 		me? 


Because I don’t    

know you yet. 

Give me your heaviest
bag, the one that cost 
extra, wrenched your back
as you bore it 
through dark tunnels
to reach the gate. 
 
There’s just us now, 
dying to go faraway 
places together 
find space to rest

our heads in flight.



Portrait of My Son as Kanye’s Vision

he lets Marvin, Ray, & Otis
spin gold under his stylus

alchemy’s his power &
samples rise like prayers

artist wearing canvas
lyrics sing our scene

so many lionize him
mama’s still his queen

Poetry from Ilyosova Fatimakhon

Book

The best thing is the book, 
You can't read. 
Word of the sun,
Teach us manners. 

When pleasure reads,
When you learn and read. 
When knitting or knitting, 
Get the book in your hands.

Good friend to you, 
Grow up with it.
You don't stumble in life,
You won't fall with it!

Different content tales,  
 You will be blind.
Don't forget it is a sun, 
Get a neighbor book!

✍ Ilyosova Fatimakhon

Poetry from Gabriel T. Saah

The Tragedy Of Jessica

Looking at the western region of the continent of Africa,
The satellite of patriotism lands on Mother Jessica.
A lady stained with the blood of Patriots,
Wallowing in the pool of distress,
Fighting to impress.

A neglected mother by those she fed,
Even Pastor Testimony and uncle Fred are her progeny,
They claim to be the best in this mess,
But forgetting the distress of a great Mother.

They remember her only when their birthday party is around the corner,
Common on, for God sake stop being a Demon,
There are days other than elections,
When you can help her out of her consternation.

The time is nearing again when they shall come to cause her more pains,
Like the aridness of the Sahara desert,
Her distress is hot to burn even her own feet.




Short Bio about the Author

Gabriel T. Saah is the son of a Liberian farmer who hails from Kolahun, Lofa County. His mother is a kpelle woman from Bong county, a Liberian.
He is a student at the University of Liberia reading Biomedical Science. His passion for writing is an inspiration to him. He is the founder of the Bong Writes Education Movement an organization that pursues to promote literacy in Liberia.
He goes by the pen name, Marvelous Inker.

Poetry from Ilyosova Fatimakhan

My motherland

Mother, Motherland!
Father, Motherland!
My protective castle,
Spilled umbilical cord blood. 
Beautiful Uzbekistan!

Sunshine, my dear, 
My fruit, beautiful garden.
My life and my breath, 
Hot nonsense my motherland!

My flower, spring,
You are the sky. 
You are the  green,
You are my paradise on earth.
Freedom Uzbekistan!!!

✍Ilyosova Fatimakhan

Poetry from John Edward Culp


   To lessen is
 the lesson 

   feeling is enough 

My preference is
 Yours as I stand aside 
   and have an enjoyable 
     moment of my own 

 I have a feeling 
   As seeds of
      Hope take Root 
To find me 
   Ready to Appreciate 

      To lessen is
    the lesson 

Poetry from Ilyosova Zukhraxon

My mother ❤️

The pain of the world,
You swallowed, too, my mother .
The caregiver also did a great job,
Without a bone, Mom.

Well you go ,
Let's face it. 
The world without you is dark,
Light and sun you, mom.

How upset I was to you,
I'm sorry, if you can.
Life with you,
You have all the - all the power!

You call me my flower,
You are a basil, a lollipop.
If two worlds are not found,
Without my paradise you, my mother

✍ Ilyosova Zukhraxon

Poetry from Tohm Bakelas

steel city

flowers bloom in steel city 
where the allegheny and 
the monongahela rivers
meet to form the ohio 

we walk through 
ghost neighborhoods 
turned into public parks 
where police watch 
my friends and i under 
the approaching noon sun 

no longer a smoking city, 
the mills are razed but
the cancers still linger


 
ukanhavyrfuckincitibak 

the flames from 
the cuyahoga 
still burn more 
than half a 
century 
later

and the ghosts 
cleveland claimed
are still dying
after all 
these 
years—

known names
with snowy faces,
their shadows grow
fainter in the april sun 




 
12 hours to lawrence, ks

4:11am and cold snow 
sprinkles on cleveland,

we drive into the night
where life sleeps and
the highway is empty 

billboards preach religion 
and rest-stop lights
scratch the skyline 

we wait for the sun to rise 
to see the future 


 
we survived i-70

846 miles from 
cleveland to lawrence 
to read at a dive bar that 
cancelled the show without 
telling anyone… met with empty
eyes and confused stares that 
purchase everyone a round 
from the lone man sitting 
at the bar because he 
doesn’t wanna see
any shit go down…
thanks man, i
guess.