Linda M. Crate… I Want to Break You

 

i want to break you

i want to break you into all the hearts
you shattered, and slam your
spaceship into saturn
make you dizzy on her rings;
and then when you think it can’t get any worse
have jupiter’s eye swallow you whole—
you have little regard for anyone’s emotions
except your own,
and you utter lies of insincerity and play
mind games that are dizzying and cruel and so
i want to rid the world of your presence
no one deserves to be broken into all the stained
glass pieces that you shattered my heart
into—
you fancied yourself a wolf,
but wolves are loyal;
you’re just a dishonest fox that hasn’t grown into his
fur yet,
and i hope a hunter skins you for your hide
because as beautiful as it is your soul and heart are blacker
than obsidian or coal;
if you thought you were going to crash my ship
submerge my body until i drowned so you could steal my dreams
think again—
like a phoenix i rose from my ashes
maybe one day heaven will let me burn you.

 

Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. Recently her two chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press – June 2013) and Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon – January 2014) were published. Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015.

Copyright © 2016 by Linda M. Crate

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lana Bella… A Hair’s Breath

 

A Hair’s Breath

My elbow caressed the fine down on your arm
as we stood.
Perching atop the quiet hill.
You didn’t say a word.
And, the silence was its own confession.
Its distance stretched across the clearing
where the evening light sloped
on the jagged rocks below.
The paralysis of a thousand nerves
froze me in stiffness.
I waited.
Hoping to feel the sharp stab of your dagger
to spur wake the cold click of my senses.
I felt you turned then.
More surely than if I’d been watching you.
Just a hair’s breadth towards me.
A deluge of pendulum swings in the concerted air.
And then, very quietly, you breathed me in.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t turn around.
If I had,
perhaps I would have seen the betrayed whisper
that already edged in nostalgia.
But, I was thinking of all the ways
a moment like this could be felt
as it traveled through a dormant sleep.
While the pausing time between breathing
will feed into the machinery of snapshots of
our memory.

 

Lana Bella has a diverse work of poetry and flash fiction published and forthcoming with Anak Sastra, Atlas Poetica, Bareback Magazine, Bewildering Stories, Beyond Imagination, Buck-Off Magazine, Calliope Magazine, Cecile’s Writers’ Magazine, Dead Snakes Poetry, Deltona Howl, Earl of Plaid Lit, Eunoia Review, Eye On Life Magazine, Family Travel Haiku, First Literary Review-East, Five Willows Literary Review, Foliate Oak Literary, Garbanzo Literary Journal, Global Poetry, Ken*Again, Kind Of A Hurricane Press, Literary Orphans, Marco Polo Arts Literary, Mothers Always Write, Nature Writing, New Plains Review, Poetry Pacific, Snapping Twigs, Spank The Carp, The Camel Saloon, The Bangalore Review, The Bleeding Lion, The Commonline Journal, The Criterion Journal, The Higgs Weldon, The Screech Owl, The Voices Project, Thought Notebook Undertow Tanka Review, Wordpool Press, Beyond The Sea Anthology, War Anthology: We Go On, Wilderness House Literary Review, Featured Artist with Quail Bell Magazine. She lives bi-continents, in the US and the coastal town of Nha Trang, Vietnam, where she is a wife of a novelist, and a mom of two frolicsome imps.

Copyright © 2016 by Lana Bella

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak… Sunrise at the Seaside

 

Sunrise at the Seaside

wrapped by the night
swathed in a shawl of memories
filled with love
I froze on an empty beach

with feet mired in the soft sand

staring into the abyss of the sea I can see how
a soft golden-orange sphere
emerges slowly, and majestically rises
spreads its arms above the horizon

cold night slowly dissolved in deep blue depths

golden rays bring warmth and hope
surfing on the backs of the waves
tenderly stroking the coastal rocks
tearing through pine branches
pouring on the dunes
tickling crumbs of amber and shells

scattering on the beach

enriched by the another dawn
ready for sparring with a new day
I prepare my heart for another lonely night

 

Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak was born in 1958 and comes from Opole (Poland). In search of work she migrated to the UK. She lives in Merstham near London. Verses author, translated by herself into English, published in the U.S. Canada, Australia and the UK. Were read in an Australian Radio. She was a poet issue” in March 2013 “in the quarterly” New Mirage Journal “(USA). Her work has been presented in Writing The Polish Diaspora (USA). In July 2013 a book of selected poems in English, was released under the auspices of the International English Association (IPPA), based in London (UK). This new book is a collection of love poems. It is touching, and lyrical. This collection is special because it establishes that Helena Bozena Mazur-Nowak is skilled in writing and translating her poetry into English. Her work is simple and accessible, but lyrical and well crafted. The poet has many close contacts with poets all over the world, and has been invited to participate in exciting international poetic endeavors. She is glad that her poetry is appreciated and also understandable to readers without “Polish roots.” In May, in Canada 2014 was published her latest book ”Blue Longing”.

Copyright © 2015 by Bozena Helena Mazur-Nowak

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jason Constantine Ford… My Baby and Me

 

My Baby and Me

Looking back at a picture recently taken,

Convinces me that my eyes are not mistaken.

As I am holding my youngest baby in my arms,

I contrast the warmth of her touch to an image of her charms.

The distance between the mobile phone I am holding

And my eyes is a gush of air with sweetness unfolding.

As the both of us are gazing at a moment in time,

My baby’s love raises my emotions to feelings sublime.

Her presence is a spark of strength reaching well beyond

This moment in time as we achieve a special bond.

She is touching my face with the grip of tenderness sweet

As a merging of the past and the present is complete.

With moments ticking, I take another picture with my phone,
Assuring my baby that she shall never be alone.

 

Copyright © 2015 by Jason Constantine Ford

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spirit Ariela Olivier… Broken

 

Broken

I act, I speak,
I live, I breathe

I do not let others “perform” me.

I can’t be contained
I won’t be named
I have BROKEN the wall of

fortune and fame.

Me against me, is me against you.
Hello? How many walls

must I break through?

I fight for my life by flowing

within the winds of respite.

God is here, God is hear..

but WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE my dear?

I close my eyes, I close my heart

born perfect in a world– then TORE apart

BROKEN OFF…piece by peace

Living in a world of make-believe

Where indeed? A road it seems
going every which way

to a heart, a fist, a trigger, a spick, a nigger

UP, I cannot hear these words, my ear…

I’ve been robbed, raped, and killed.

PERHAPS this is not my field

There are other roads indeed.
I LISTEN AND CHRISTEN my heart and my sleeve.
“Innocent as a dove, perfect in love”

“Wise as a snake.” The latter I’m afraid is what I mistake.

IT’S ALL HERE, IT’S ALL HERE!!!

Lived and told LEARNED–
found or STOLE,
YOUR living pieces for the life you hold.

 

Spirit Ariela Olivier is a poet and filmmaker from Los Angeles, California. She has been writing poetry since she was old enough to hold a crayon. She writes poems without a wall to bounce them off. Her work is an invitation for you to peruse the secrets of her soul. She currently resides in sunny Los Angeles. This is her first work to be published.

Copyright © 2015 by Spirit Ariela Olivier