768- Love. All you need is. Makes the world go ‘round. Is a many splendored. Thing. Love Shack. Love Boat. Love Canal. Kevin Love. Thirty Love. Forty-five love. Sixty. Love. Somebody to. Love. Hiroshima My. Love. Love hurts. Love is a battlefield. Love at six thousand degrees. 769- Joy in the morning. Joy to the world. All the boys. And girls. Joy to the fishes In the deep blue. Sea. See. Blue Meridian. Blood Meridian. Jeremiah was a. Prophet. 770- Violent Femmes or Psychedelic Furs. Dead Kennedys or Dead Milkmen It’s all happening at zoo. Charlie Don’t Surf. It smells like. Teen spirit. Victory. 771- Astro turf never needs water. Plush lawns for pink flamingoes. Black jockey statues with ring handles. Tethers for ghost ponies. Kissing cousins to Christmas displays. The reindeer. And the elves. Yard dwarfs and garden gnomes. Paint them with glitter. Glow in the dark colors. Lawn ornaments need attitudes. 772- Easy reading or Life Stories Briefing for a Descent into Hell or Woman of Solitude The Golden Notebook or The Bell Jar Canticle for Liebowitz or Wittgenstein’s Mistress Desert Solitaire or Arctic Dreams Hades in Manganese or An Alchemist with One Eye on Fire Portrait of Dorain Gray or A Guided Tour of Hell (again) 773- Patti Smith. Solo. Portraits of people. Stuff. Walt Whitman’s tomb. Sonic’s Fender. Cross with a mirror. Mapplethorpe’s hands. His slippers. His star mirror, London. His cross. Jesus with a flower. V. Woolf’s cane. Duncan Grant’s paintbrushes. Pitted mirror, East Sussex. The River Ouse. Robert Graves’s straw hat. William Blake’s head. Not a Fordham Baldie. A visionary. Brighton Beach sea gull. Herman Hesse’s typewriter. Bust of Baudelaire. Brancusi’s grave. Ingres’s Christ detail. Rimbaud’s eating utensils. Godard seated, Alexandria. St Sebastian. Details. Arrows. Turin. Shroud. Details. Stuffed bear with a Calling card tray. Tolstoy’s house. No one home. Self Portrait 2003. Unfocused. 776- Ocean Avenue Salvage: A Personal History Of: My mother’s metronome Her mother’s books DeMaupassant Robert Louis Stevenson Richard Harding Davis My mother in law’s tea cups My father in law’s tools My step-mother’s wicker baskets My father’s picture in a heart shaped frame Their Shaker Art It’s a gift to be simple
Poetry from Vernon Frazer
Last Wording
half the polar well
holds the harming serve
until breathers moan
again loaded
culminating adobe details
in the foreground cove
while
the tattered syllable recluse
celebrating from coherence
occupied yogurt armor
between aggressive pouncing
where
cufflinks rotate
cowl interjections
rubbed beyond
new reconstruction torpedos
bamboo cracks
pandemic eccentricities
in seance
*
grammatical stalling
skewers one written
empire
patriarch iced
legend’s fixative seeks nods
distrust empurpled
celebrity hump rebuffs
where a lead terrorist
bends to cold pavement
broadening
perceptible calamities
bustle correspondence deadened a utopia decoy
*
moon’s wake
the orthographic effigy
put refraction thoroughfares
lunging apart
aggressor
progressions
gone
with the global
valence
present condemned
a rope motive
in the echoed slab
reputation boiling
clauses to memoir debauch
endowment removed
History Happening
extreme sanskrit multiplex directive
commotion scattered babel tongues
across the time of papyrus infusion
caverns gave coded empathy shrouds
a place to gather against the wind
or another ark to flood with animals
contained to pair for a bearded one
stoning down mountain imperatives
androgynous caverns heaving a glide
toward the desert suit filed into sand
temptations crystallized their renewal
before the reflection written to fix
the derelict card careening passion
through undirected profusion litters
light crystals prismatic sun spokes
an emerging moon theme in motion
revolving over the nighttime desert
where billowed plans will resolve
with the crux of historic anticipation
carried to any nearby tree will do
the sect projection beyond the day
the exempt declared renewed grit
and peremptory sandstone polish
not the rain of provisional passing
furnished a new micrometer legend
whose replications dated calendars
when their makers proved reluctant
snapshots in the tiller thatch missed
no embryonic passport in the thicket
or watchful rushes bulling paparazzi
to divide the walls that conquer all
tablets that broke their millennium
before the requisite numbers spread
the vast mirage of new mother's milk
spread through forty days of microbes
tempting the igneous with sediment
promised to deliver layered history
to seeking prophets under threat of
renewed octagon vengeance made
before the form could fake ascent
on the choral donations or decor
as added to the licentious playbill
rostered pagan invasion sealant
before fumes could accrue tarnish
receptacles reeling with plasma grief
worn follicle ventures packing meat
of their belief into a worn sleeve’s fray
no doppel to gang a loose parlance
with a part from the other to match
the fetid geometry buckle in manure
angling the portal drop toward hay
where they fielded lain shepherds
deepened their sleep wherever
the sale of their sheep relocated
their hostile ambience a matter
of sacred discord when aroused
the cult of thirteen ran the dozens
against a predictable implosion
felt rummaging vegetable sponsors
when old spoons entice the lurid
a cult device records the subtext
no graphic delayed for the new ride
a molecular detergent foray decries
testicular headings over horsemeat
babble at the slowed compendium
forming a triage from the fictive mix
Dream a Generation Away
rutabaga polish
rides a sanskrit momentum
calypso fury casts the last rendition
*
enamel passion
brings its own veneer
to hidden sightings
vegetation budgets an inner flourish
before melting lavender
pots its ancient shrug
while inaction seeks its tongue
*
an action pursued
the molting factotum legend
of suit incarnation
dispassionate, buried
seven layers of ancient cities
bubble above the shale
*
radical depiction
cherishes a hairy flourish
the vegetable innovative crew
merrily words away
the gray whitening to the rhythm’s light
an edition only dreamed to last
BIO
Vernon Frazer’s most recent poetry collection is Memo from Alamut.
Poetry from Eva Petropolou Lianou
Children in West Bank... Children of Gaza One war and one day The children in Gaza They say the word "War" First And after they say Mom Childrens in Gaza They are all tattoo their names in their arms Because a day is too short And maybe until the end of night They will become Angels There is a whole world in the West Bank A kindergarten that bad dragons attack for a long time ago Nobody helps Nobody support Nobody cares The blood is cooling everywhere in Gaza In the school In the streets Where the childrens supposed to play and laugh Bombs have destroy the houses Children in Gaza are born heroes from their mother's belly Children in Gaza They fight since they are born Do not dare close your eyes In this unfair reality Don't close your eyes in this genocide Stand up for the children of Gaza Happy birthday Ahmed Happy birthday Mohamed How old are you? I am a year of war and one day And you? I am 2 years of war and 3 days Let's celebrate this special day, My brother and sister Tomorrow the war will divide us Childrens with no eyes No legs No ears No smile No faces Childrens of Gaza Innocent childrens in sacred earth That they sacrifice To Evil Prayers for childrens of Gaza Prayers to stop this madness Prayers to stop this genocide Stop the blood of innocent children
Art from Mark Young
Poetry from Kristy Raines
I Never Saw this Coming When I looked into your eyes, I saw myself in you, like a mirror I shake my head because my feelings are hard to explain I never want to live in a world where you aren't beside me We are like puzzle pieces that only fit together... heart and soul We stumbled upon each other when our roads crossed You with a broken heart and me trying to find where I belonged We connected so easily and I can't imagine life without you My soul is now attached to yours, and I no longer miss mine Your heart is now big enough to hold both of us with one beat I have become like the shadow you see as you walk in the sun I hope when you look in my eyes, you will now see yourself. But I must confess, I never saw this coming... Your Sweetest Dream I pretend to not see you look my way I sigh because the love you have for me is so deep. You take my breath away when you come towards me My love for you only grows and I can't imagine myself ever being without you... "Always take me with you" I long for you to always drown my life with your love There is nothing you can give me that is worth more than that I never fear what is in our future, whether joy or sorrow. As long as we do it together is all that matters to me... "Never leave" I pray you will always love me as your Sweetest Dream... "Hold me closer" ❤ Where Silence Ends We stand close together with silence between us Conversation goes from sweet notes to serious looks No more do you give into the sadness within you because tonight you are in the heat of my arms As I look at you, I can't help but sigh loudly because I know tonight belongs to just us I can hear nothing but the whispers of our breaths Silence is the music that captures this moment A tear starts to form in the corner of my eye as a serious smile comes closer to meet my lips Come, and take a dip in this silent river where silence ends and sweet music begins... Glowing Moon of Passion O' Moon of Passion... How I long to take in your warm glow as you fill me with a beam of passion and spill over onto me your stars of sweetness. Oh how my senses shudder as I bask in the presence of your orgasmic light. Kristy Raines is an internationally known poet and prose writer born in Oakland, California, USA. Kristy is retired and married with two children and three granddaughters. Kristy has four books getting ready to publish. One anthology with a prominent Poet from India, which will launch sometime in 2024 called, "I Cross my Heart from East to West", two fantasy books of her own called, "Rings, Things and Butterfly Wings" and "Princess and The Lion", an anthology of poems in English, "Little Rose Poetry" and her Autobiography called "My Very Anomalous Life". Kristy has received many literary awards for her unique style of writing. Kristy enjoys fundraising for her friends who live in the refugee camps of Cox's Bazar and her volunteer work to raise awareness for the Rohingya people.
Poetry from Zuhra Ruzmetova
Мy country
The sun shines in the blue sky
Casting light shines magic
Wakes up early in the morning
Giving love to mother earth.
My independent land is my motherland
Blooming, living forever
Let us play and sing in your bosom
Remember every breath you take.
Ruzmetova Zuhra Vyacheslavovna November 30, 2006 I was born in the city Urgench, Khorezm region. There are 6 of us in the family my father my mother my brother my twin and me. I am currently a student of the 11th grade of school no 14 in Urgench city. I appeared on the international website "synchronized chaos" and I am the coordinator of the this international site. My poems have been recognized in more 10 countries. Every week I am guest on Khorezm TV channel. I am the holder of badge "For the international Services"🏅by the bi wing poets writers Association. I am the winner of competitions of more than 100 national and international organizations. I have a B2 certificate of knowledge of the Turkish🇹🇷 language. I have many future dream goals.
Poetry from Stephen Jarrell Williams
Cold Train to Texas Cold train to Texas shaved my beard off Cut my hair short appearing younger with scars I don't believe in guns just bazookas No sandals just boots no cigs just pipes I'm a one woman man she's crying back home Train whistling beginning the sick trip Everyone worried about war some greased up to slide Moon watching above witch on her broom Drones following her and us note taking who is worse Train paying no attention engineer stoked in vibrations Wild eyed mouth open Picking up speed over the bridge of no return. Still of Midnight Stores closed yet the parking lot full people sitting in their cars sleeping sitting up huddled under blankets doors locked homeless doing without and living within hope and turmoil and the death of tears. Sleeping Sun We beg you to awake We need your warmth Your light showing the way. Going Home Going home probably not there anymore Can't stop hoping It will be as it was Years ago different world Everything lost now Collecting tears memory wrapped Loved ones cherished list With deep sorrow we seldom called.