Poetry from Vijay Nair
A platonic journey of my holy lips!
My lips starts its platonic journey
At midnight from the curved
Ears of my lady love
The best way to reach her virgin heart
To make furrow that Eden
For a splendid spring
The brunette beauty have uncharacter
But, will have faith you no
If have character no
Your aristocracy lose
Venom worse than leads burial
Beholder both the holder
Whoopee lips enduring at once
Adam’s fall and sinner at all
O, remember not the sins
And offences of my lips
Forced to eat forbidden fruit
A sinner originated not first
She no longer a deaf
Move a muscle not
Hear my whispering lips,
A whinchat it makes a wiseacre
By singing sweet flatter
A flea in her ear not
Wins by note makes my lips
Not hold her heart of stone
At long but, her mourn not moan…..
Break that whip at last but least
She no longer a blind
Pay my lips a glimpse of glory
No, spirit of my wobbling lips
Halt at her lotus eyes
At all a surge on her flimsy petals
That wakes her upon Immortal bliss
Whippy lips raddles on brow
Where sprout a wave squander a lot
Not redeemed that tort of damnation
Withal my minx neath
An entice into that scammer,
My rhetoric lips ventured
Rambling lips ruminates all trifles
Of its cataclysm over my uncovered
Ruth a ruthless who’s,
Mirth mastered into a nascent splendour?!
Pliable lips abode on tip of the nose
Not naughty my nymph
Venerates to swap its sublime
Driven high, for stars lie hidden in her soul
Dream deep precedes the goal
My lips for every dream
Thunder is good thunder is impressive
But, it is lightning does the work
On her sultry plum, a pernicious cavity
My lips imbibed her own by
A battle of unconditional love
That hale a mental dynamite
Damp lips ribald its sooth
On my Jezebel’s rosary beads
Of a seat of emotions
Feeds my lips a plenty
Play the mice, a cat away
Waiting in the wings
Whimsical Lips not breather
Until it makes voyage unto
Her butterfly nut, which makes
My lips a dance attendance
On her Dutch auction
That navel gets involved with
Brazen lips my caged in,
Flesh a triangle that burrow
Scintillates high spot sanctified by
Holy lips my her driven into salvation
A gnostic ken elevated to
A swain as spiritual sign
Where ended its spiritual journey as a sign
© -Vijay P Nair – 2014
Elizabeth Hughes’ Book Periscope
JD DeHart reviews Evelyn Blohm’s poetry collection Central Park Rhapsody and Oasis
Poetry from Rick Hartwell
False Spring
False spring’s soft rain subsides to
snow flurries and icy winds
annihilate too-early growth; buds
blush and drop without blooms.
Raucous tempest buffets pairs of birds,
challenging them to seek safe
nesting sites for mating as sapphire
skies turn first opal then ebony.
* * *
Approaching death the higher castes
in feudal Japan entered religious
orders seeking to die as monks or nuns
expiated of sins from former lives.
Winter cleanses only what is no longer
fecund; that which would otherwise
fester, ferment, accumulate detritus.
Death exists as the herald of birth.
Poetry from Allison Grayhurst
Poetry from Alyssa Trivett
Tuesday Afternoon
Cheese-grated my two-bit soles
on strainer sewers.
A man, nighthawk coat,
cigarette for a beak,
stopped in front of me
to ignite his habit.
‘Designated Smoking Area’ sign chain-gain hangs,
on a rusted work area fence.
I play I Spy, since it isn’t my habit.
So I’m scrawling within those rusted
divided fence lines.
As trains squeak by again.






