Blog Archives

Three poems by Damion Hamilton

29/5/2020

When You Lose

It’s as if you know
You’re going to lose
As if you’re just going
Through motions
And feel as if the machines
Know that you wanna win
That you’ll take another bet
Because you’re sad depressed
Or bored
And you’ll just stay there and take the beating and watch
It feels like they know
Everyone knows while flashing all the lights.

Digital Addiction

All the stuff I know better
But I’m digitally addicted
What came right now
Was never before
I’m on this damn phone
And can’t pull myself away from it
I’m so curious about everything
Every damned thing
And you can’t know everything
I think.
Like all your thoughts from thirty years ago
they came from different place.
unlike ones you have now, based upon your
Experience

it down

and be quiet and get to know myself
in silence,
it’s hard to do that
i’ve sat on park benches and tried to understand others, by observing them,
movements, strides, clothing, shapes, skin color and all
but not myself, that’s a lot easier to do, and still impossible
but…
but
to know myself, that takes time and silence
and I’m addicted to alllll this stuff,
sights, sound and noise coming at me
and work… those 40 hours…that paycheck
if I was brave I would quit it alllll
and go towards the isolation road
but I don’t
the world has me in her clutches
and rides me as she pleases
and I forget it all, like a lap dance

(Damion Hamilton is from St. Louis MO. His poems have appeared in Chiron Review, Poesy Magazine, Zygote In My Coffee, Red Fez, The Camel Saloon and many others. He writes poetry, stories and novels. He has written several books.)

When lightning touches the ground- a poem by Michelle Chacon

22/5/2020

When lightning touches the ground

Through heavy rain, drenched, I search
I look within, for the strength, but I have none
Its dark, grey, the mist thickens
where am I?

Which way? I turn, spinning around I hear unearthly sounds
beckoning me. I dare not go, I try to continue, I’m lost
the rain lashing against me, I can barely see.

Sounds follow me, torturing me, I try to escape
cold, alone and weak
trembling, the evil getting closer
I panic, I shake

I can't escape the noise, fear grips me,
the wind carrying me along in my footsteps
as if trying to rescue

I try to think, how to escape what is lurking behind me
I try to keep moving, the atmosphere thickening, so turbulent and fierce
I crawl forwards, almost choking, the sounds right behind me, I feel defeated.
Someone help me.

A gust of wind, like a prayer pushes me to go, run, just get out,
I open my eyes and decide, not today, not this time, I will fight.
The roll of thunder deafens, I stop running and turn around.
I stare back into the past, everything is quiet
the moment stretches through time, I stand still, suddenly unafraid

The rain washing over me, I gaze upward,
then lightning hits the ground! And that’s it,
My mind is clear,
the fear is gone,
there is quiet and clarity,
there is a freeness and simplicity.

I decide! I refuse to be taken down!
I turn my back on the past, on the sounds that follow me,
on the memories that held me prisoner,

(Michelle has been writing for many years, and has had her poetry published in several magazines. She is inspired by nature, the earth, people, experiences and her own struggles with mental health and chronic illness)

Finally having confidence- a poem by Anna Johnson

15/5/2020

Finally having confidence

Sometimes I can be mentally ill
I am not always that sorry
Complex PTSD holds me in its tight cage
Sometimes I do things that to others might appear strange
I have endured both cruelty and stigma
I have been called a psycho, a sideshow freak and much worse
Deliberate, premeditated torture I have endured
Making me feel incomplete and cursed
But now a change within my view of myself has altered
For I rather love my brain despite this being so
It being incredible in its scope to produce
Creativity, empathy, intelligence and truth
I harbour now an alternate view
Some have tried in vain to destroy my mind, to eradicate
Any semblance of self worth
My whole self I now fully appreciate
Which is ironic in their cruel teaching of hate
Which is the lesson that i have learnt
They sought to tarnish, for me to get burnt
I am not complacent or saying i do not want to heal or completely alter
But I can accept what is now in the present and hereafter.

(Anna Johnson has always been fascinated by words, having a love for Literature; which she has studied to Degree level. She has worked in numerous Libraries and is currently studying with the Writers Bureau, Anna has two Chronic Illnesses and C-PTSD and finds writing therapeutic, especially when about those topics)

Two poems by E. Martin Pedersen

8/5/2020

The Curve

so all that’s left is the curve
of the wind up the swing
the horn section
the girl her first day on the ice
her red ear
the surgeon’s needle at rest
the bone after the lamb chop
after all that gnawing
in school, in jail, in cars, in bed
don’t recognize that sound
it ain’t rats for darn sure
the gnawing on bones
that'll never be straight
nothing is straight
the curse
the score
big bangs measured by petty clerks

I want more.

Doubt and Guilt

Two friends,
Doubt and Guilt,
went out in the sunshine
to play a little catch
a little pepper
hey, batter

If I had none like some people have no headaches,
or even if it were surgically removed by well-intentioned
medics who hadn’t thought very far ahead,
I have none that the result would be the same:
to freely tease, wallop, bed & board, run
roughshod over like Banshees the wives
of all my friends, say, werewolf
in the outer-limits of 170 x 210 cm
a raft on the Mississippi of my libido, my God-given instinct
shooting up into space, to light the gray sky of France in November
easily ten to twenty if not more and
then and then the rot would set in
I'd be finished, consumed by sin
because there is no future
without my two friends.

(E. Martin Pedersen, originally from San Francisco, has lived for over 35 years in eastern Sicily where he teaches English at the local university. His poetry has appeared most recently in Ginosko Literary Journal, Abstract Magazine, Neologism Poetry Journal, Poesis, Thirteen Myna Birds. Martin is an alum of the Squaw Valley Community of Writers. He blogs at: emartinpedersenwriter.blogspot.it)

Two poems by Sarah Losner

1/5/2020

Decision to Heal

There’s a pain that comes
With knowing that the past
That you’ve stuffed in a box
Under your bed
Has turned into a monster
That screams faintly in the dark
When you’re hiding under the covers
But one day you may decide
To open the box
And release the contents in the lake
While you watch the pain
Float away

Empty

Part of her feels empty.
Empty, like the space
between you and her.
You sit on a wicker chair
looking her up and down,
to try and find the lost girl
in front of you that
you can’t see. She grows
every second, but she
isn’t there. You still can’t
find her. A magic trick
before your
eyes.

(Sarah Losner is an aspiring writer from Long Island, NY. She suffers from an eating disorder and depression and is passionate about breaking down stigma around mental illness. When she is not writing poems or short stories, Sarah works as an accountant at a nonprofit in New York City.)

Three poems by Damion Hamilton

When lightning touches the ground- a poem by Michelle Chacon

Finally having confidence- a poem by Anna Johnson

Two poems by E. Martin Pedersen

Two poems by Sarah Losner

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

Archives

Categories

Three poems by Damion Hamilton

When lightning touches the ground- a poem by Michelle Chacon

Finally having confidence- a poem by Anna Johnson

Two poems by E. Martin Pedersen

Two poems by Sarah Losner

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

Archives

Categories

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