Ashley Parker Owens… Flowers on the Lake & Twiggy

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Flowers on the Lake by Ashley Parker Owens

 
 

Twiggy by Ashley Parker Owens

 

Ashley Parker Owens is a writer, poet, and artist living in Richmond, Kentucky. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from Eastern Kentucky University, and an MFA in Visual Arts from Rutgers University.

Reach her at
@parkerowens twitter
https://www.zonerama.com/ashleyparkerowens/61449
https://ashleyparkerowens.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/parker.owens1?ref=bookmarks
https://www.virtualgallery.com/galleries/ashley_parker_owens_a43845277/landscapes_s16464
https://www.facebook.com/ashleyparkerowens/?ref=aymt_homepage_pan

Copyright © 2017 by Ashley Parker Owens

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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Rajnish Mishra… Bowl’s Best Friend

 

Bowl’s Best Friend

 
Did you know that glass can store all acids but one?
Hydrofluoric acid eats glass up.
It’s called corrosion in chemistry.
Interesting sound: co-rro-sion,
and interestingly, it reduces weight.
What’s more, this villain of an acid
causes permanent tissue death on contact.
 
Hydrochloric acid is harmless, comparatively.
It’s stored in glass bottles, you see!
It’s a cousin of hydrofluoric, yes but does nothing
sinister: no glass corrosion nor permanent tissue death.
It’s so harmless that it’s produced and stored
in every body of every nation, in all civilizations
where humans have a stomach.
What does it do there?
It kills microbes there and does something to protein:
‘denature’ is the word in zoology.
Interesting sound: de-na-ture,
and interestingly, it’s natural.
 
It’s a good friend, this hydrochloric acid.
It’s a good servant too.
It can’t corrode glass and stomach wall
but does a good job over toilet bowls.
Corrosion gives the surface sheen,
removes the outermost layer in direct contact
with the world and filth with it.
 
To combine chemistry with zoology,
This mild ‘friendly’ thing denatures, corrodes,
combines with epidermal water,
releases heat, a lot of it, and severely burns
the largest organ in human body.
The standard instructions for its splash (accidental)
on skin are: ‘gently wipe it off, flush with water
and cover the area with a cloth moistened with baking soda’.
 
India, Pakistan, Bangladesh,
Uganda, Cambodia, Afghanistan,
Palestine, France, Israel,
Iran, Zanzibar, Indonesia,
Greece, China and UK,
man’s best friend has at least one active and direct use.
 
Revenge is the motive that malignity cites in confessions
and statements later, much later. So proves the self-justified rage,
of the self-righteous man, yes it’s always a man
who throws hydrochloric acid, the friendly, harmless servant of mankind,
and burns layers, fifteen to twenty, of epidermis,
generally of a woman’s face, in all the countries
where its active and direct use is reported.
 
Nobody thought of writing instructions
against its more direct (active, planned and common) use.
 

Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India. He is the editor of PPP Ezine, a poetry ezine. He has a blog on poetry, poetics and aesthetic pleasure: https:/poetrypoeticspleasure.wordpress.com.

 

Copyright © 2017 by Rajnish Mishra

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Jared Pearce… Prognostication

 

Prognostication

On the day you came home
I am hustling one place
To another, sweating on
The air that won’t lift and won’t breathe,
 
And there are three blue jays
In the oak up third, younger,
I think, and quieter, chuffing
Softly and letting me near,
 
Fanning their tails to match
The blistered sky, looking askance
As I perambulate by. I hope
They’ll stay and believe
 
In the love and the need in me.
Yet the blue in them wasn’t heaven’s
Grace, but the blue of your eye,
The blue of deep space,
 
And without a shout, without
A race, they spread the day and hurtled away,
With nothing of cruelty
And nothing of hate.
 

Some of Jared Pearce’s poems have recently been or will soon be shared in Marathon, A Quiet Courage, DIAGRAM, Inlandia, and Poetic Diversity. His first collection is due from Aubade Press in 2018. He lives in Iowa.

 

Copyright © 2017 by Jared Pearce

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Purple Mark… The Gathering

 

The Gathering

In lavish circles whirling, they skittered over the water top
weird women flying, their snarls and tatters streaming,
laughing profanely like bawds.
 
It wasn’t All Hallows Eve or any occasion that those
who weren’t these Witches would know. Yet it was an occasion
for them as their little ones were beginning their way in the Craft.
 
Seven of them stood wide-eyed as the Circle was cast.
They were smudged and invited within the muddy Sacred space
as the Spring rains continued to come down to soak the Earth.
 
The Quarters were called and they each in turn faced
the High Priestess’s Athamé and intoned the words they had
long rehearsed to be perfect on this most important occasion.
 
Despite the rain’s fall they were glad that they were now a part
of the Sacred Sisterhood. The cakes and ale which followed
made them feel that they were indeed growing up
 
and on the way to attaining the wisdom which had passed
from Mother to Daughter for so many generations that
their lines were lost in the mists of memory.
 
As soon as the last cake was eaten and the last of the ale sipped,
the Quarters were thanked and the Circle opened and the Witches
old and new dispersed to the four corners of their town.
 
Rain fell softly on the town cupolas, chuckled from rain-spouts
and spoke in strange subterranean tongues beneath the windows
of the town which had no idea of the importance of the evening.
 

Purple Mark aka Mark Wirth courts way too many Muses: Chocolate-Making, Costuming, Millinery, Photography, Painting, Drawing, Novel-Writing and Poetry. In College, he was the Art Director for the MSU Literary Annual for 2 years and an issue of Scimitar: Illustrations, Layout and some Poetry. In the Seattle area, he worked on Mythos in a like manner and provided additional photography as well as short stories.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Purple Mark