Poetry from Alan Inman

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Why Try
 
They ask, judge, text,
spread the news even
if there is no news to
spread, they gather together
and make their comments
Creating and painting
their own unwise universe.
Omega
 
Scribble the last letter
on earth, etch it in the ground,
wait for the gates
of stars and planets to open,
a rain of judgment, or just
a sound of eternal party.
Last Night on Earth
 
I have decided I do not want
my last night on earth
to be spent on a bed, alone,
listening to the promised
soon coming of another.

Poetry from Patrick Ward

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The Lonely Apparition

Once upon a time. 

There lived a man who wanted to find someone to love. 

He kept waiting, and anticipating . 

It never happened. 

 The man eventually died of a broken heart. 

A year later, a strange occurrence took place:

A young man and woman approached the scene where the man had died. 

All of a sudden, it got deathly quiet. 

Then a male figure formed in a pale, white, ghostly mist. 

The ghost appeared to be someone that the woman had rejected from somewhere back in time. 

So, with a sorrowful moan, and the face of rejection, he stared at the woman. 

Suddenly,

he vanished. 

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Poetry from Michael Robinson

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Wrong side of the Tracks

I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks,

But not today.

I grew up believing that I would not make a difference,

But not today.

My elementary school mentor said: “All you bad motherfuckers are going to jail,”

But not today.

I grew up in a world of violence, incest, rapes, and deaths,

But not today.

And as the people watch the world burn, I throw water on the fire,

Because today the world belongs to me.

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Poetry from Nate Maye

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Doll
 
She’s a doll
until you decorate
her, a lovely
fashion until
you notice how
she fails to make
eye contact,
drags her feet,
fails to communicate,
rips you apart
behind your back.
Blink
 
Blink you miss
it, blink you miss me,
this poem I wrote for
you, if you blink
or click, gets lost
in the endless stream
of cubes and rounds,
pushed to the bottom
of the stream.
Custodian
 
He lingers in the hall
and I dream about
him turning suddenly
a new creature,
mythic and strange.
But he still won’t clean
like he’s supposed to,
often napping
in the corner, even
with his horse legs
or beast eyes.
Nate Maye is a rising poet.  Nate watches too much television and studies literature.  He is from Texas.

Poetry from JD DeHart

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Noble
 
With his bow tie
and his bowler,
his etiquette videos
With his distinguished
accent and polished
vowels
It’s easier to dismiss
the claws.
The Classic
 
It’s battered and worn
and sits on the shelf
like a mountain
that can taunt you,
Remember how you
carried me around
for years on end, I was
your constant companion
until the day came
When you realized
you would never read
me through.
Hassle
 
It’s a beautiful hassle
this constant tapping
sound of devotion
I should love its lapping
gate and its tiny bells
I should worship and cherish
its presence
If I could just push past
the early boundary
of my own annoyance.

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Poetry from Astra Papachristodoulou

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IDLE IDOLS

This camera has an eye that cannot see
the act of toxic scrolling that can be
an agony of the mind that’s driven me
miles from “amour de soi” that’s all I need
to find my peace and spread prosperity
to those who I see and see me as rarity

These lenses can keep flashing filthy BANKNOT£S
for people who hide behind their idle followers
of photographs they’ve taken to promote
their “soulmates” with whom they’re asymptotes
projecting life as seen by the Kardashians
with selfies in a shell that’s rather porcelain

Insta-society needs velvet antidote
to filter trash and help one to self-love

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