Thursday, November 14, 2013

A Poem by Jack T. Marlowe

low down at high tide
your tran-
hard to get
when life
an angry
sea of bills
and bad
news, the
tears of
dull razor
and dirty
and now
the toilet
and my
stink of
the ocean
the angelfish
stoic, as
i languish
alone in the
sing for me
as the 
of every-
Jack T. Marlowe is a gentleman rogue from Dallas, TX.  A writer of poetry and fiction and a veteran of the open mic, his work has appeared in Handful of Dust, Rusty Truck, Bone Orchard Poetry, Napalm and Novocain, Zombie Logic, Tendril and many other zines (both online and in print). Jack is also the mad editor of Gutter Eloquence Magazine (  


Tuesday, November 12, 2013

A Poem by Neil Ellman


after the statue by Constantin Brancusi, 1930

In the far-fetchedness of my life
as if a fish
I swim in violet-colored seas
and green the canyons
with my breath.
  Nothing has substance here
nor birds have wings
the rivers flow from mouth to source
and I return to the place
where I was spawned
  someday to crawl from river to land
upon on my knees through time
and mud-dark shores
to that place of prophecy
where a fish becomes a man
and man remains a fish
and I must swim upstream until I die.

Nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, Neil Ellman writes from New Jersey.  More than 850 of his poems, many of which are ekphrastic and written in response to works of modern and contemporary art, appear in print and online journals, anthologies and chapbooks throughout the world.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

A Poem by Dawnell Harrison


The star-flanked sky
shoulders a cloudless night.
Violet waves of fog pour
in like sheets of rain
igniting the streets
with a colorful tenderness.

Dawnell Harrison has been published in over 100 magazines and journals including The Endicott Review, The Journal, Fowl Feathered Review, Jellyfish Whispers, The Bitchin' Kitsch, Vox Poetica, The Tower Journal, Queen's Quarterly, and many others.  Also, she has had 4 books of poetry published through reputable publishers titled Voyager, The maverick posse, The love death, and The fire behind my eyes.  Furthermore, she possess a BA from The University of Washington.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Two Poems by Theresa A. Cancro


between blue sky, blade grass
spaces, I sense a shift up and down
my anchored essence, the fall

of autumn night draws me,
prunes easy strides in sandals
even as it streams red, gold,

amber, they drizzle on the sides 
of grifting breezes, excoriate notions,
left over pyres of love in the backseat.

Autumn Wandering

loneliness in autumn
is flecked with copper rust;
dropped from above,
it's reached middle age on cobblestone paths
and balding dew-grass
seen from the side of hoarfrost.

late morning birds languish
on fence posts, black body flocks
precipitate, clot the lawn;
no meditation strums among
curse tongues, jab beaks --
only thoughts of abandoned love.

the brittle wind wings apace,
strifes my brow, whistles gravel songs
while it seeks deep spaces
among broken clay pots,
wants to hesitate at sequined pools,
but arches its back toward the sun.

Theresa A. Cancro (Wilmington, Delaware, USA) writes poetry and fiction.  Some of her poetry has been published on online sites, including Three Line Poetry, Dead Snakes and A Handful of Stones. Her haiku has been accepted for publication in the December 2013 issue of A Hundred Gourds.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Three Poems by William G. Daview, Jr.

Some leaves fall
so dreamily,
they beg for witness
as if, look,
a diversion,
something magical
if only for a moment,
the time it takes
to land on the ground
and be damned
with the others.
After October
The trees are naked infantrymen
stripped of dignity
horded in a gulag,
no medical care
for the squirrels nests
that have metastasized 
into tumors.
The leaves spiral
like so many Noah's Arks,
unseaworthy brown tartans
sinking themselves into
a vast, green sea.
William G. Davies Jr. recently had his poem published in The Cortland Review and poems accepted by The Wilderness House Review and Blue Lyra Review.  He shares life with his wife, Theresa, and as much poetry as he can read especially John Updike and Donald Hall. 

Monday, November 4, 2013

A Poem by Rick Hartwell

Pond Laughing
Sun-blaze reflects in the pond its own heaven,
gold surrounded with light tints of blue,
sunburst is caught in rippled cross-eddies,
spiraled from three separate cores, a
seeming cacophony of lines intersecting.
Dappling and dimpling the glaze of the pond,
water bugs form the detritus of nature,
rocking and riding the waves of the wind,
surface skaters are randomly sown adrift,
seeming a testament to some quiet design.
Deep and foreboding, a natural frame,
surrounding trees brood over the pond,
failing to vanquish the light that’s within,
centered life is caught in reflected sun.
Mirrored questions posed to dark cortex,
seemingly paradoxical, perhaps a secret koan:
What is the sound of one pond laughing?
Is it possible to stare in its mirror to see,
            yet not see,
life’s perfect reflection simultaneously?
Rick Hartwell is a retired middle school (remember the hormonally-challenged?) English teacher living in Moreno Valley, California. He believes in the succinct, that the small becomes large; and, like the Transcendentalists and William Blake, that the instant contains eternity. Given his “druthers,” if he’s not writing, Rick would rather be still tailing plywood in a mill in Oregon. He can be reached at