Poetry

Poetry
Daniel Wade
Wealth of my wayfaring and mud-smeared, The halberd slashes off necks at the root For mounting over hearths; blood rinses my beard . Of the day’s trudge. Breathing hard, I slog about This field, corpse-carpeted, air smudged in silence, Lifting keepsakes from pockets, flames put out . Of my sword’s...

Poetry
Harley Claes
She wore metal draped upon her visage with a bullet born personality and a pocket full of religion. We worshipped her sin and posted dutifully as saints. As we were given by god our daily pay, for our loyalty. We paraded ourselves...

Poetry
John Grochalski
In the heart Of a Saturday afternoon He comes Down the avenue No modern day Don Quixote or Walt Whitman Battered leather coat Gray greasy hair to his shoulders A beard down to his chest Ass hanging out of his stained brown pants Hands shaking holding a fast food burger Stopping in spots To...

Poetry
Mark McConville
Cocaine nightmares and hopelessness bind together, To create a broken mind And I’ve been sinking deeper into the abyss that I call depression I can’t withstand the inner unhappiness and tendencies I’m hooked on misery, serving up cocktails of pills to myself, To try and drown out...

Poetry
John D. Robinson
‘You were collapsed in the heap of shit that you are, I found you when I came home from work at the bottom of the stairs: our neighbours had tried to rouse you and didn’t know whether to call an ambulance, you’re beginning to become a fucking mess and it’s hurting...

Poetry
Kevin Higgins
After John Cooper Clarke . The fucking dame is fucking furious and not fucking having it fucking up is fucking down fucking in is fucking out fucking master is fucking slave fucking Palestine is fucking never fucking Goliath is fucking David fucking catapult is fucking atom bomb the fucking wall was fucking...

Poetry
Lourdes Vega
With breath hung heavy and love like a shooting gallery, I say, I lost myself in anonymity. The sweet spot of sickly instinct, impoverished by all lovers’ lament. All else before stunk of cat piss and dog shit. Some putrid lovers quarrel without any meaning. Hate...

Poetry
William S. Tribell
All the way from the Renaissance and that lasting ripple And of course the ancients—learning, discerning deceits Those sinister sorts of questioned character—Marlowean intrigue The real stories, life and death, history and mine—the eye I was born scorned and a strong hypothesis,...

Poetry
Elisabeth Horan
Broken pine Behind the painting The world we inherit Married we made it A lot better Something together It was not capable before Long roads alone So dangerous if not Deadly. All demons Know midnight knows Curves; slatted twilight Steering I sat on your lap Feet feel pedals, as friends— Motel eyes blinking Vacancy in here It sure...