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Three poems by Linda Stevenson

31/1/2019

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Anything
 
Anything, I’ll do anything
to keep you at bay.
 
I’ll speak
of general relativity breakdown,
and the way
convict women
stitched
textiles
during transportation,
of how I think an antecedent of mine
might have been one of them
aboard the Rajah in 1841.
 
Let me tell you about
the murmuration of starlings.
Have you seen that  the video
how they whirl and swoop and dive,
individuals becoming one stupendous
patterning
in a press of air and wings.
 
I’ll call you friend, mate, compatriot,
be your host, your guide, your patient,
your gift, your intimate.
I can do all this with my hands tied.
 
Do you notice how I look down, not
into your eyes so much.
Have you seen that...
like I am appearing on that video,
playing on auto,
playing the part,
whatever you need.
 
What would you like today... this me
or that or a muse, a chameleon, a genius,
an old lady... or I can dumb right down.
 
Anything.  I’ll do anything
to keep
you
at bay.

Black Cohosh
 
I didn’t want to get caught up
in the tweaked
holograph,
meaty melo-drama,
the field of clouds
as toxic
as nightshade and black cohosh.
 
I try to detach,
awaiting my rush,
adrenalin surge,
my heart turning over,
my bill of rights,
my domain,
my benevolence.
I must encode new frequencies
and I want to tell you
I am not expendable.
I am not broken.

Diagnosis Atypical
 
Drifting almost out
altogether out
in heaviest dream
the dense
submits a morse
intelligence
a breath
chokes catching
in awakes
the character of fear
being radical before
and after dark
so different
expansiveness
a subtle growth
explosive mass
bloats to the eaves
twittering;
gasps ballooning
to a final (burst)
 
 
(Linda Stevenson is a Melbourne, Australia poet and artist. Her recent poetry has been published in local and international literary magazines and anthologies, including Bluepepper, North of Oxford, The Pink Cover Zine and Plumwood Mountain. A Chapbook “The Tipping Point” Blank Rune Press 2015 is a collection of her ecopoems.)
 
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Life and death and in-between moments- a poem by Sunil Sharma

24/1/2019

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Picture
Life and death and in-between moments
 
When the distance between
living and non living shrinks dramatically
 
consists of
a series of zigzag lines on the bedside
monitor, hope sustains the
world of the living, although flickering
like a candle in the wind;
 
faith gets quickly mobilized by the
praying hearts for a miracle
in a prosaic universe; clammy hearts open up
and seek the divine intervention in the cases,
terminal;
 
swinging between optimism and
pessimism with the ease of acrobats, the family believes
in a win against heavy
odds, wishing for some relief
some more extension;
 
the daily confusion
the continual stress
the hovering uncertainty
all writ large
on the withered faces
of the attendants, huddled
together on the small benches,
outside the wards and the ICUs---a rarefied region,
forbidden, forbidding, formidable---where a fairy-tale
romanticism tries to prevail over factual realism;
 
the entire public space marked by a heavy air
of despondency and pain, walking about gingerly,
eyes vacant, dragging feet, as if
drugged and benumbed by the possibility
of running into a spectral presence, in a nook,
any nano second.
 
At some point, in the narrow corridors that strongly smell
Of antiseptics and sterilized syringes,
some miracles do happen, while
others are expected to unfold soon, despite
grim forecasts
by the god-like figures in white aprons.

(Sunil Sharma is a Mumbai-based writer, editor, academic with 19 books published---some solo, others joint.He edits Setu: http://www.setumag.com/p/setu-home.html )
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Catching Myself- a poem by Kitty Donnelly

17/1/2019

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Catching Myself
 
Let’s start with how it is.
The canal’s too still. You can’t describe the sky
 
because your eyes won’t lift.
By the air’s bitterness you guess
 
it’s clear with a sharpened moon.
Your eyes ache. You have no gentleness towards yourself.
 
You wander the cottage of ghosts and shadows
with a posthumous numbness.
 
The windchimes, hollow and restless,
catch the breeze and are shrill.
 
Neither whole nor young, this sickness
has broken your will.
 
This pain will be marked in the tissues:
a notch, a scar, a twist in the grain
 
the body remembers. Now rain’s fierce.
The cat’s howling: wet and pitiful.
 
You promise if you shift
your aching limbs to let him in – feed him, dry him –
 
you will put pen to page.
So here’s a note to be found in a box in years:
 
If only to do, to see, to say –
whatever joy I gathered from today
 
I weathered this night in November  
and if you’re reading this, I found the courage.
 
I caught myself.
 
(Kitty Donnelly is a nurse and a poet. Her poems have been published in Acumen, The American Journal of Poetry, The Fenland Reed, The Dawntreader, Mslexia and has work due out in Sentinel Literary Quarterly and Granta amonst other publications.  kittydonnellypoet.com )

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Two poems- by Joe Lynch

10/1/2019

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The Thought not taken
 
Two thoughts emerged on a darkened place,
And sorry I could not think both,
For one was hidden by indecision,
The other, by lack of faith.
 
And as I stood stalled a while,
Wondering which best to please,
Forebode to bare, to choose I dare,
For this, I’m not at ease,
 
Then rapt the thought of less despair,
While staring up at vacant air,
Seeking out Divine direction,
Still silence protrudes without deflection.
 
The thought slipped and slid around my floor,
Teasing me to chase it more,
Laying low, like a prowling cat,
Shadowed, where he often sat.
 
But even thoughts on a darkened day,
Can glimpse the trodden light,
Brightened with a trim of hope,
A choice we can incite.
 
There are always two thoughts and often more-
Resting by a darkened door,
Some thumping in the dead of night,
Or early morning sunrise bright,
Offering you some seeds to sow,
Planting thoughts for you to grow,
For the thoughts you see or wish to keep,
Are the ones you grow for you to reap.
 
 
I met Despair on a darkened day
 
 
I met Despair; again, on a darkened day,
as I stood, irritating my curious thoughts,
alone, turning feelings, contemplating.
Deep thinking in the shallows,
digging up memories, suffocating.
 
I watched Despair, slinking into my sliding thoughts,
with practised ease,
half invited by circumstance half by opportunity,
and seeing me juggling my thoughts of anguish,
he carefully slinked some more, with ease,
cold, yet ever so welcoming, placing his shadow next to mine,
merging, sub-merging, with cautious courtesy, he waited,
as he waited before.
 
I felt Despair, calmly settling, comfortably resting,
and not wishing to provoke his calmness,
though disconcerted, I asked if I could perhaps,
pose a curious question for his contemplation?
 
Despair, giving a curious glance, though hesitant,
whispered to me an invitation to draw his views,
 
“Share with me your curious thoughts,
for I am curious of your question,
and will answer if I may, with inquisitive resolve.”
With rhetorical resignation, I asked;
 
“I am seeking release from pain and sorrow,
is death the escape from my tomorrow”?
 
I have answered that question, many times, before,
though never been asked, least, in an inquisitive way,
but I shall answer your question as you asked,
Death has many avenues, lined with pain filled sorrows,
it is not an escape, though, it will take away your tomorrow,
and all your tomorrows thereafter, it will not take you, just your breath,
 
For you will walk and laugh in harboured thoughts,
memories, carried heavy by those you loved,
and those who love you still,
you will breathe in the winters wind,
or gentle summers breeze,
you will be seen in the walk of others, like ghostly glimpses,
your last moments will forever haunt,
always carried, lived and relived,
and questions will keep dissolving into numbness,
disintegrating, echoing unanswered,
you will live in the tears of those carrying your pain,
and some may even contemplate their own curious thoughts.
 
Alas, death is a curious escape,
though not to freedom,
to be paid by many.
 
(Joe Lynch is poet hindered and enhanced by being Dyslexic. Joe lives and works in Belfast, N Ireland and started submitting his work summer 2018.)
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There’s No Place Like Home- a poem by Mike L. Nichols

3/1/2019

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There's No Place Like Home

Words buried in earth
as footings to support
those lost to the past.
 
I wince at the flat sound and
almost feel his slap myself. 
Abandoning is what I do
feel, huddled alone. After.
 
The others involved refuse
to remember, so the incident
escapes a little more
with every turn around
the sun and if its reality fades
away then what can be
made of the pain
that remains?
 
The stanza’s
jagged edge a
serration to
re-open memory,
testify
in the abscence
of credible
witnesses.

(Mike L. Nichols is a graduate of Idaho State University and a recipient of the Ford Swetnam Poetry Prize. He lives and writes in Eastern Idaho. Look for his poetry in Scryptic Magazine, Ink&Nebula, Rat’s Ass Review, Plainsongs Magazine, and elsewhere. Find more at mikenicholsauthor.com) 
 

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    The Beautiful Space-
    ​A  Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry.


    1. This is your literary journal to publish your unpublished poems and artwork related to themes of the mind, the body, the soul, mental health, health, healing, illness and the brain.   
    ​
    2. We may occasionally accept work not related to above themes as long as it is of good quality and relevant to our project.

    ​3. We aim to publish work of one author every week depending upon the rate of submissions and quality of work.
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    ​4. We publish work of both established and new writers.

    5. All submissions will be subject to peer review before accepting for publication. We will contact you ( within 8-12 weeks) only if we decide to publish your work.
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    Submit Poems, Artwork, and Blogs
    1. You can submit your poems ( max 50 lines, up to three poems at a time, all in one document), & Artwork.

    2. We are happy to publish anonymous work as well as stories if you choose to as long as we hold your details in our records.

    3. All submissions should be your own unpublished original work.

    4. All submissions will be reviewed before accepting for the publication. Decision of our reviewing team will be final.

    5. Please send all your work as one Microsoft word document file, align to left of the page and font 12 Times New Roman with your details to the following email​.

    ​6. Please also include one sentence personal bio you would like to be published with your work

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    2020- A Poem By Javed Alam
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    Artwork By Sherri Porrit
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    Bumper Sticker- A Poem By Matt Borczon
    Catching Myself- A Poem By Kitty Donnelly
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    Couldn't Be Written Or Worn- A Poem By Uzomah Ugwu
    Cry For Help
    Curved Waters- A Poem By Dr Maureen Shyamala Rajamoney
    Dancing On Waves- A Poem By Karim Harvey
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    Heal The World In Love-an Essay By Linda M Crate
    Heartache
    HERMAN MELVILLE DECIDES ON THE COLOR OF HIS WHALE- A Poem By Richard Holinger
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    How To NOT Manage Mental Illness-a Poem By Javed Alam
    Interrupted- A Poem By Sarah Henry
    It Had That Swing- A Poem By Ed Ahern
    It’s A Beautiful Drive On Highway 14- A Poem By Danny P. Barbare
    Julie- A Poem By Paul Warren
    Kaleidoscope Brain- A Poem By Rebecca Carley
    Leaving Me With A Years’ Worth Of Writing- A Poem By David Elvis Gale
    Letting Go (so You Can Just Fall Asleep)- A Poem By Melanie Browne
    Life
    Life And Death And In-between Moments- A Poem By Sunil Sharma
    Life Was A Phoenix- A Poem By David Grigorian
    Loss- A Poem By Louis Kasatkin
    Lost And Found- A Poem By Siri Espy
    Luisa Maria- A Poem By Caroline Am Bergris
    Maintenance- A Poem By James Penha
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    Mournful Tune- A Poem By Sy Roth
    My Bell Jar- A Poem By Marc Darnell
    My Heart Leaps Up- A Poem By Rajnish Mishra
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    Night
    Once Upon A Time
    On The Way-a Poem By Chani Zwibel
    Opinions Are Like- A Poem By John Patrick Robbins
    Our Family Closet- A Poem By Joan McNerney
    Painting Of A Farm
    Panic Attack Protocol- A Poem By David Icenogle
    Parkinson's- A Poem By Louis Kasatkin
    Patience
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    Praised Be The God Of Cats:-a Poem By Rosie Woods
    Psych Ward- A Poem By Regina Elliott
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    Second Round Of Chemo- A Poem By Bruce Spang
    She Walked Out On Me Two Weeks Ago
    Shoegazers's Dreams Of Snow:Clad Sanity-a Poem By Sudeep Adhikari
    Silent Chaos- A Poem By Megha Sood
    Social Isolation – What’s The Alternative?- An Essay By Sultana Raza
    Social Isolation – What’s The Alternative?- An Essay By Sultana Raza
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    Stagnant Puddles- A Poem By Tohm Bakelas
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    Sustained- A Poem By Ford Dagenham
    The Bouncy Ball Man’s Bi-polar Journey- A Poem By Linda Imbler
    The Bread Shop- A Poem By Vivien Yap
    The Celestial Stardust- A Poem By Thomas Patrick Hywel Williams
    The Craft- A Poem By Keith Landrum
    The Fire Of Reunion-a Poem By Abu Zayd
    The Forgotten Life Of Velma Evans- A Poem By Linda Imbler
    ​The Fragrant Face Of The Rainbow- A Poem By Hongri Yuan
    ​The Fragrant Face Of The Rainbow- A Poem By Hongri Yuan
    The Inlay Work On The Left Side Of The Brain- A Poem By Winston Plowes
    The Masquerade- A Prose Poem By Abu Zayd
    The New Room- A Poem By Gwil James Thomas
    There Is Bliss- A Poem By Jeremy Gadd
    There’s No Place Like Home- A Poem By Mike L. Nichols
    There’s No Place Like Home- A Poem By Mike L. Nichols
    The Small Dance- A Poem By Paul Brucker
    The Struggle Beyond Life
    The Wall-a Poem By Levi Mericle
    The Wild Blueberries- A Poem By Caroline James
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    Thinking Outside [BOXES]- A Poem By Allan Lake
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    Three Poems By Ahmad Al-Khatat
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    Three Poems By Edward Lee
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    Three Poems - By John D Robinson
    Three Poems By KD Williams
    Three Poems-by Kitty Donnelly
    Three Poems By Linda Stevenson
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    Three Poems By Maryam El-Shall
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    Three Poems By RM Yager
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    Three Poems - By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
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    Three Poems By Yuan Hongri (Translated By Manu Mangattu)
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    Two Poem- By Ahmad Al-Khatat
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    Two Poems - By Gale Acuff
    Two Poems By Gerard Sarnat
    Two Poems By Hongri Yuan -Translated By Yuanbing Zhang
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    Two Poems- By Howard Brown
    Two Poems By Jacqueline Jules
    Two Poems- By Jeevan Bhagwat
    Two Poems By Jeri Thompson
    Two Poems- By Joe Lynch
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    Two Poems By Kirsty A. Niven
    Two Poems-by Kristy Keller
    Two Poems By Laura Slack
    Two Poems By Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad
    Two Poems- By Rajnish Mishra
    Two Poems By Ryan Quinn Flanagan
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    Two Poems By Sarah Losner
    Two Poems- By Scott Thomas Outlar
    Two Poems By Serafina Valenzuela
    Two Poems- By Sheikha A.
    Two Poems By Steve Carter
    Two Poems By Subhaga Crystal Bacon
    Two Poems -by Sunil Sharma
    Two Poems By TAK Erzinger
    Two Poems- By TAK Erzinger
    Two Poems By Tapeshwar Prasad
    Two Poems By Thomas Zimmerman
    Two Poems By Timothy Resau
    Two Poems By Tom JF Wood
    Two Poems By Vivian Wagner
    Two Poems By Wendy Gabriel
    Two Poems By Wolfie
    Urban Oasis- A Poem By Geri Owens
    Visiting Time
    Waking To Darkness-a Poem By Michael H. Brownstein
    What's In A Name? By Kiranjeet Chaturvedi
    When Lightning Touches The Ground- A Poem By Michelle Chacon
    Where I'm From- A Poem By Carolyn Licht
    Yet Another Encore- A Poem By Ronald Finn
    Your Eyes A Beauty To Behold! - A Poem By Samuel Abonyo

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