I Am Saying Goodbye… by Dawnell Harrison

I Am Saying Goodbye

I am saying goodbye

To the hurt that you

Dug into my ribs.

The pain was sharp

And it had settled.

The days bled

Into the unholy nights

As if there was

No beginning and

No end. The stars

Never seemed

To show their faces

As if they turned

Their backs on me –

A lost cause that had

Poured my soul

Out to someone

Undeserving.

I only remember

The screaming,

The endless questions

That dripped from

Your righteous mouth,

The nights full of

A relentless terror.
I won’t let you

See me burn again.

Dawnell Harrison has a BA from the University of Washington and has been published in over sixty journals and magazines. She also has three books of poetry published Voyager, The Maverick Possee, and The Fire Behind My Eyes.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Dawnell Harrison

 
 

 
 

 
 

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Valentina Cano… Dials

 

Dials

A master at telling time.
That’s what I’ve become.
A being who watched arrows
and blinking lights,
fluorescence sprinkled over words.
Your smiles are seasons,
whole months of weather.
Vibrant with ticking,
they shape my days.
You have become a sundial for me.
I depend on shadows
to show me the truth.

 

Valentina Cano is a student of classical singing who spends whatever free time either writing or reading. Her works have appeared in Exercise Bowler, Blinking Cursor, Theory Train, Cartier Street Press, Berg Gasse 19, Precious Metals, A Handful of Dust, The Scarlet Sound, The Adroit Journal, Perceptions Literary Magazine, Welcome to Wherever, The Corner Club Press, Death Rattle, Danse Macabre, Subliminal Interiors, Generations Literary Journal, Super Poetry Highway. You can find her here: carabosseslibrary.blogspot.com

 

Copyright © 2012 by Valentina Cano

 
 
 
 
 

The Mariachi… by Margaret Elysia Garcia

 

The Mariachi

He used to played guitar
with other grandfathers
who had been young men
in dance halls in the 40s

before and after the war.

The doctors had said to keep playing!
It will keep you alive.
The grandfathers played
up and down the cul de sac,
in each and every garage,

before memory failed and arteries clogged.

There were nine of these part-time mariachis
in a row of strings and brass, a retirement band.
Soon there was seven, then five, then three
and now just him playing solo

on this side of the heaven’s divide.

The doctors told him to make new friends
but by that time the dead were living with him,
And the living were just as dead
And the house was filled

with people who were not there.

He rocks back and forth now
in the living room rocking chair
Pedro Infante and Mariachi Vargas CDs
Crooning, blowing, strumming their tunes.

They are there with him, welcoming him.

He has forgotten how to play guitar now.
His eyes close and his hands raise up
from the arm rests,
hit the dead air around him
he fingers chord progressions and he smiles.
He remembers just this.
Asks of whomever is there
I like those songs you are playing
—did I ever know how to play?

 

Copyright © 2012 by Margaret Elysia Garcia
 
 

 
 

 
 

The Fireworks Go Out… by Ben Nardolilli

 

The Fireworks Go Out

Sugar and fat, asphalt and air conditioning,
The American Dream can only be
A phase now because we have poured
It into the form of easy commodities
That other countries can imitate
Or that we will lose our grip and hold on,
We should have let it remain a phrase,
Hard to translate, even into England’s English.

 

Ben Nardolilli currently lives in Arlington, Virginia. His work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, One Ghana One Voice, Caper Literary Journal, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, Super Arrow, Grey Sparrow Journal, Pear Noir, Rabbit Catastrophe Review, and Yes Poetry. His chapbook Common Symptoms of an Enduring Chill Explained, has been published by Folded Word Press. He maintains a blog at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is looking to publish his first
novel.

Copyright © 2012 by Ben Nardolilli

 
 
 
 
 
 

Epact… by Kenneth Kesner

 

Epact

until the mimed distance

distance unaware

winds and poppies too

several storms approaching

in portions call their name

straight in front of you

twilight

shadows deeply rose

with the urging of elsewhere

see

who are leaving for the day

orphans of their youth

along a distance

among the bronze

some came to honour

 

A native of the US, Kenneth Kesner (肯内思) has been working under the auspices of the State Administration of Foreign Experts in the PRC for several years now. When circumstances allow, he travels portions of the Spice and Silk Routes, and is planning to walk westward from the Central Asian and Eurasian regions in two separate treks.

Epact was previously published in Retort Magazine, 2012

Copyright © 2012 by Kenneth Kesner