Theresa Vogrin

Tonight, let’s get drunk on vodka and high on melancholy while our lives are running away from us too fast, let’s look up to the dark sky which has the colour of your soul and the colour of the ink I use to write poetry about how you make me feel, let’s count the...

Nicola Daly

How We Lost Our God It began with the pop of Papa`s gun. Then there was the thud of the front door and Mama was gone. Without warning our house stopped being a home. Every morning after there was a cruel frost. The pond emptied of fish. The wine cellar decreased. The...

Natalie Crick

Through Bitter Eyes   Maple branches etch An ink blue moon. The sky opens it’s banners like lips, Azure tapestries furled back into stratus clouds. Petals lost to wind Will blanket the ground. Dew on rust Will run like dried blood. Sunflower doll heads bob.   Eternal...

Michael Bartholomew-Biggs

Flock (1) You are doomed, you shepherds of Israel! You take care of yourselves, but never tend the sheep.-Ezekiel 34:2 They say we see the flock as wool and profit and ultimately meat. They say we only count them – since they only count – at times of shearing or slit...

Lawrence Upton

Love, making delicious it’s particularly nice natural, and ghoulish   intensity of sun comforting   smooth feeling soothed, ideal   smelling that which evaporates   nose and eyes apply frequently good-looking and sweet conventional and rubbing it...