Archive for September, 2020

Does ‘amor vincit omnia’? by Roopam Mishra

Posted in Roopam Mishra with tags on September 28, 2020 by Scot

Slowly,
Gradually,
I got so used to your presence around,
That despite the darkness,
And the gloom,
And your constant disavowal
Of making me a priority,
I chose to bask in the dark,
Dance to the night,
Blow out the candles,
And blindfold my eyes.
Were you magic?
Magical?
Magician?
I don’t know.
I chose to jump,
Unconcerned whether my knees bruised,
Or my jaw broke,
Or my bones cracked.
I jumped.
They told me,
There’s glory in love,
In loving selflessly,
In loving as much as you could,
With all your being,
Your heart,
Your soul.
I believed.
So, I plunged headlong,
Diving deeper,
And deeper, into you.
Something called reason,
Tried showing the lamp once.
I shut it out.
I could see truth from your lies,
I turned a deaf ear often.
Now, when I am at the rock bottom
Of a limitless sea named you,
I wonder if the sweet-nothings actually have meanings,
Or are born purely out of fantasy.
I question if “amor vincit omnia”*,
Because they always tell you
Between the leaves of a Mills and Boons,
And, love songs, and fairy-tales,
That love conquers all.
Because despite all, you seem so distant
Despite the embrace,
You seem far, far away.
You’d question me,
Why I linger when I see this haze?
I’d tell you,
May be I’ve become too complacent in this spot,
Too weak to function without you,
Or, too adamant to not choose otherwise.
But trust you me,
I’m a warrior. I never fail.
Eventually, I’d learn to walk alone,
And you will see,
Probably in awe,
That I had wings all along,
Which let me soar to the apex,
Yet I chose to crawl all the while,
Just so I could stay a little longer with you.
____________

Ms. Roopam Mishra lives in Lucknow, India. She is a Research Scholar at the Department of English, and Modern European Languages, University of Lucknow. Her area of interest, and enquiry is theatre, performing arts, and aesthetics in the new millennium. She writes in Hindi, and in English since thirteen years of age. Her works have appeared in Café Dissensus, Borderless Journal, and Rhetorica Quarterly.

HAUNTING WITH ELEGANCE by Marc Olmsted

Posted in Marc Olmsted with tags on September 28, 2020 by Scot

“Heart bone”
Nyingru
Strength of heart is needed
Supreme Justice
Goodbye Ruth Bader Ginsburg
samurai heart
observes rain
ronin
man without rank
human bone
solitary
lone
sword of intelligence
COVID
mask
ninja
flying metal star
“haunted dominion”
haunt with elegance
o heart of bone

9/19/20
listening to Elizabeth Mattis Namgyel webinar

____________

How to Host a Good Party by Greg Clary

Posted in Greg Clary with tags on September 23, 2020 by Scot

No canned beer, bottles only.
Wine is red, whiskey is Irish.
No food until the end.
More people than chairs.
No devices, no pictures.
Dancing is good, conga lines are not.
Always invite a controversial woman.

____________

Greg Clary is a retired college professor who grew up in Turkey Creek, West Virginia and now resides in northwestern Pennsylvania. He likes being around people who can ease into a conversation without taking it over, dark hollers, and 3 fingers of Jameson over 1 cube of ice.

JESSE JAMES WAS A COWARD by Timothy Tarkelly

Posted in Timothy Tarkelly with tags on September 23, 2020 by Scot

JESSE JAMES WAS A COWARD

Jesse James was a coward,
a half-assed trigger pulled from a Kansas City paper,
where rich folks long since cornered
the market on low rent heroes and
a sore loser complex
as deep as the Missouri, as wide as Missouri
as miserable as the grey-coated, blood stained
losers who came back to sharecrop their way
through life, drink their Kentucky hang-ups,
leave the local swill for the federals.
He carved Dixie on his lips and bit every time
he heard someone whistle the Star-Spangled Banner.
Train robbing, shooting bankers just for looking like
America. A place he lived, cursed for welcoming him back home,
whose ground he filled with shallow graves and
a shallow definition of liberty. One of those
feeble-minded outlaws
who never could realize they’re not special.
They too must give thanks for what they have
rather than burn us for what they don’t.

____________

Timothy Tarkelly’s work has appeared in The Daily Drunk, As It Ought To Be Magazine, Back Patio Press, and many other magazines, journals, etc. He has two poetry collections published by Spartan Press: Luckhound (2020) and Gently in Manner, Strongly in Deed: Poems on Eisenhower (2019). When he’s not writing, he teaches in Southeast Kansas.

Unwholesome by Jessica Gleason

Posted in Jessica Gleason with tags on September 16, 2020 by Scot

I may have

Googled
your name.

A penchant for
beards and
sharp

though
hormone-addled
brains

tests

my playful
though-steadfast
resolve leaving me
weak,
proverbially.

But mostly,

I fight against
A need
to shove you, hard
against a wall,
quixotically.

The Grim Reaper Is My Best Friend ……………by Jake St. John

Posted in Jake St. John with tags on September 16, 2020 by Scot

The grim reaper
is my best friend
he walks
with me
everyday

sometimes
down the sidewalk
and into work
sometimes
into the woods
alone
we’ll go

we sit
and talk
philosophy
and books
his favorite
author
is a prick
and mine
is a fraud

I don’t
stop for lunch
but he’ll pause
and eat
a ham sandwich

he is
kind enough
to pour me
a drink
at any time
of day

and
in the morning
we drink
black coffee
together
while laughing
at the news

Kenosha by Ben Rasnic

Posted in Ben Rasnic with tags on September 16, 2020 by Scot

A 17 year-old white
gunman crossed the Wisconsin
state line, packing
an AK-15 type .223
& sporting white privilege
opened fire on three protesters
because he disagreed
with their constitutional rights,
their politics
& which lives
actually mattered,
then
with assault rifle
slung over his shoulder
and hands in the air
calmly strolled past Police
who stood by
and did
absolutely
nothing.