Do you spit out words as you
might a bite of bruised apple?
Say: Today my dog died?
Do you tell how you watched
the light fade from her
soulful eyes, nothing left
but bones and soft fur?
Should you mention you cried out,
wanting to kill the messenger?
How this longing hurts, sometimes
believing she will amble back home,
tail thumping, cold nose pressed
against your lonely hand …
Dianne writes poetry and picture books for kids. Her next book, Hey Little Beachcomber, will be out in April, 2019. She is a frequent contributor to Highlights magazine.
By Mark F. Lindsey
The things that I once saw
are not clear anymore.
My reality is constantly changing
Organization is a must but so is
Anarchy. Cacophony best describes us.
I guess what I’m saying is don’t
plan on anything or your future will
LONG LIVE THE REPUBLIC OF THE MIND!
For in it alone can we be ourselves
And in being ourselves we create society – even
Mark F. Lindsey is a veteran of the Persian Gulf War currently residing in the Pacific Northwest. His work has appeared in The Inner Voice literary magazine.
By Rebecca L. Holland
Want to see a magic trick?
Watch me disappear
How’d she do that?
Here’s the secret:
All it takes are dark glasses
All it takes is an illness
All it takes is a white cane
To erase five years of experience
To strip you of a master’s degree
To make people avert their eyes
Want to see another magic trick?
Watch me reappear
I thought I was a woman
But when I hide behind this slender cane
No one can see me
And I thought I was the one who couldn’t see.
You didn’t know I was magic.
Rebecca is a visually impaired writer and disability awareness advocate from Pennsylvania. Her chapbook, Through My Good Eye: A Memoir in Verse, was published in 2018. She is a staff writer for CAPTIVATING!
By Kendall Jaderberg
I noticed my dog look up.
why was this act so unnatural?
There wasn’t a squirrel in the trees.
Why had he been so intrigued?
He plays from a box of actions,
motivations of which not earth shattering.
But a glimpse to the sky, leaves me questioning-
Why? This says too much about me.
I envied his joyous observation,
the self-made scientist in this family.
Where he spotted this opportunity,
I failed my curiosity.
This set in motion unexpected passion,
not knowing where my notes would lead.
I tested and believed I’d emptied,
a theory disproved by this story’s ending.
Kendall Jaderberg is an Analytical Chemist for a flavor company, where donuts abound. She enjoys bitter Chicago winters with her corgi mix and crafting poetry in her head while running on the treadmill. She has only tripped once and blames the donuts, not the poems.
By Andrew J. Shields
Nothing on the tidal flats but gulls
and oystercatchers, until pipers and plovers
swoop to land at water’s edge.
Nothing on the dyke but you
and the grazing sheep, until two kids
ride by on rusty bicycles.
Nothing in the sky but sun
and blue, until clouds and rain
come with the rising tide.
Nothing in your hands but
your umbrella, pulled
by the rising wind.
Andrew Shields lives in Basel, Switzerland. His collection of poems, Thomas Hardy Listens to Louis Armstrong, was published by Eyewear in June 2015.
By James Formosa
I remember everything.
I remember everything even though I don’t want to.
I remember everything even when it hurts.
I remember everything especially when I make others hurt.
I remember how I hurt them.
I remember how many times.
I remember how much I don’t care about that.
I remember the worst part.
I remember that I wasn’t always like this.
I remember that everything used to matter.
I remember that you used to matter to me.
I remember that I used to matter to you.
I remember that I used to know how to be whole.
Now, I’ve forgotten.
James is an Officer in the Canadian Armed Forces currently working on his first novel.
By Diana Diamond
Nothing is ever casual about sex
Casual sex is coward’s sex
An empty charade
No one really ‘takes off’ anything
The “hit-and-run” culture
Has created a generation of cowards
Afraid to look into themselves
Afraid to relate
Because everything is oh-so-painful
Everything is offensive
But how can you ask others for intimacy
When you can’t even be intimate with yourself?
“No strings attached” is a huge lie
Created by opportunist men
Who convinced women that selling their soul
is true freedom
Don’t you believe it
There will always be a rope
On the ethereal plane
From my navel to yours
Dana Al Rashid is a writer and poet from Kuwait. She has a weekly column in Al Jarida newspaper (Arabic), as well as occasionally writing in Kuwait Times newspaper in English. She has published a poetry book titled Reflecting Moon.