Christopher Kenneth Hanson - 1 Poem

"X Monster"

With this bag over my head,
I would understand your state of fright.
I need it to walk the streets safely though.
And just like you, I have always feared my form.
In dreams, I would hope to speak softly to a dear lady friend.
In dreams, I would look at her with my desired form and face.
And that she would understand now that my heart was decent,
A satisfaction of romantic bliss could not equal this twinkle in my eye.
I would wait a thousand life times for a chance to be loved by her.
I would travel and be tested a thousand more to earn her adoration.
And that such a lovely woman would ever call my name,
I would weep by her side and thank her for blessed kindness. 

BIO:  Christopher Kenneth Hanson is an innovative poet from New Jersey. You may find Christopher's art and poetry via the internet by searching additionally for ckhanson81.

Chris Butler - 1 Poem

Love Won’t Come

Love won’t come
from just anyone.

Love won’t come
if unspoken of.

Love won’t come
by another vanhove.

Love won’t come
like rising suns.

Love won’t come
from up above.

Love won’t come
With turtledoves.

Love won’t come
in red rose groves.

Love won’t come
by touching gloves.

Love won’t come
under a thumb.

Love won’t come
with forced shoves.

Love won’t come
When cumbersome.

Love won’t come
except for some.

BIO: Chris Butler is a twentysomething nobody shouting from the Quiet Corner of Connecticut. He most recently published poems of pain in ppigpenn, BoySlut and Dead Snakes.

Robert Demaree - 1 Poem

BUSINESS TRAVELER

Blue sky, vapor trails:
He tilts back his seat, stirs his drink
And reviews the day.
He thinks of sales made, and not:
Had his suit been crisply pressed?

Turbulence ahead:
He closes up his laptop,
Snaps his seat belt shut.
Had his shoes been brightly shined?
He orders another drink.

Our final approach…
How does his balance sheet look?
Will the firm survive?
Please return the tray table…
We’ll be at the gate shortly.

BIO: Robert Demaree is the author of four collections of poems, including Fathers and Teachers (2007) and Mileposts (2009), both published by Beech River Books. The winner of the 2007 Conway, N.H., Library Poetry Award, he is a retired school administrator with ties to North Carolina, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire. He has had over 600 poems published or accepted by 130 periodicals in the U.S., Canada, Australia and the U.K., including Cold Mountain Review, Miller’s Pond, Louisville Review and in four anthologies. For further information see http://www.demareepoetry.blogspot.com

Emily Ramser - 1 Poem

Smoker at the Coffee Shop

Yellow splotches
of paint lay between
his index and his
middle fingers. 

Nicotine memories
from hands that 
should have told
the past in fiction.

BIO: Emily Ramser is a high school writer who prefers to hang out with college students and drop outs. She finds them more entertaining and inspiring. She's been published a handful of times, but she prefers to post her work simply wherever it can be seen, even on old business cards on notice boards in the back of coffee shops.

Denny E. Marshall - 1 Poem

Comfortable

From the top of the hill
Walk down into the valley
The trees are mighty
Gentle to the breeze
The road is pleasant
And the grass green
See her standing
On the path in dress
Stroll and talk
Stopping at a bench
The comfort spreads
Belongs to napping
In holding arms
Felt like real sleep
Dreams of walking
The morning brings

Bio: Denny E. Marshall has had art & poetry recently published and rejected.

A.J. Huffman - 3 Poems

With Bare

feet crossed on dashboard,
resting.  My rhinestoned sunglasses
reflect the momentum, short-term
memories in the making.  Map flung to back
floor in rebellion and preference
for uncharted interaction.  Back-road mistakes
melting into mystical minefields, blasts
of beauty, untouched by anything but camera’s
flash.  Soundtrack of laughter and effortless
banter barrels through glass
half-rolled down, plays for the wind.

The Road to Yoga Road

is curved at impossible
angles.  Avenues dangle on one
leg, teeter, manage not
to fall into failure’s abyss.
Balancing the drive
for perfection with natural
peace of meditative silence, the form
shrinks, converges on sole point,
aligns itself with inner
strength.

Ice Cream Unplugged

Frozen tower of twisted
milk dissolves into photo-
negative lava flow.  Sticky
hands, elbows flick, drip,
short flight.  Away.

Biography: A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida.  She has previously published six collections of poetry all available on Amazon.com.  She has also published her work in numerous national and international literary journals.  Most recently, she has accepted the position as editor for four online poetry journals for Kind of a Hurricane Press ( www.kindofahurricanepress.com ). 

Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work at http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000191382454 and https://twitter.com/#!/poetess222.

Taufiq Abdul Khalid - 1 Poem

N Ode 2 Hu

I am lowborn, who will raise me?
I am highborn, who will bring me down?
I am rude, who will teach me manners?
I am vain and proud, who is oft-bearing with me?

I am in love, who is in love with me?
I am yearning, who is yearning for me?
I am ablaze, who will quench the fire?
I am drowning, who will drain the ocean?
I am dying, who shall bury me?

I am a bird, but who gave me wings?
I am the sky, but who painted me blue?
I am a face, but who taught me to smile?
I am a prose, but who is the poet?
I am a lantern, but who is the light?

Who is asking? Who is answering?
What am I? Who am I?
Like a shadow on the wall?
Like a ripple in the ocean?

I am coming home, but who am I returning to?
Was I ever away?

Biography: Taufiq bin Abdul Khalid is a solicitor working in a small law office in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He has a son named Mikhail (aged 7) who dreams of becoming a venture capitalist. In his younger days, a girl once described Taufiq as someone who can take three hours to describe an orange. Now much older, he spends less time contemplating fruits and more time observing this strange and beautiful world, and the amazing personalities that inhabit it. He blogs obsessively in the Sinners’ Almanac and is a master ping-pong player. Or so he claims.

Smita Anand Sriwastav - 1 Poem

Lullabies of Night Breeze...

fluid syllables echoing
in the oblivion
of night sequined in
insomniac stars
on a nocturnal vigil,
are strung on strings of
silken moonbeams to form
a lullaby that allures sleep
from alleys of Morpheus,

to lull silhouetted trees
of eternal rustles
into tranquil slumber,
and waves of brine in turmoil,
splashing against the shores
in throes of serene siesta.

the lips of the night breeze
croon in sensual notes,
soft lullabies to the drowsy earth,
the lakes of rippling strains
are put to sleep by these songs,
the amber moon perched
over pedestal of clouds,
is induced to siesta beneath,
the duvets spun by tempest.

Biography: Smita Anand Sriwastav  is an M.B.B.S. doctor with a passion for poetry and literature. She has always expressed  her innermost thoughts and sentiments through the medium of poetry. A feeling of inner tranquility and bliss captures her soul whenever she pens her verse. Nature has been the most inspiring force for her. She has published two books and has published poems in journals like the Rusty Nail, Pyrokinection, Jellyfish Whispers, eFiction India, Literary Juice, Daily Love , Life As An, Behind Closed Doors and Contemporary Literary Review India and one of her poems was published in a book called ‘Inspired by Tagore’ published by Sampad and British Council. She has written poetry all her life and aims to do so forever.

Ben Nardolilli - 1 Poem

The Evening Mysteries

I feel down by the carport,
Then you come, and feel too,
Before all the inhabitants
Agree to make me brighter,

Though you may be
With them, memories
Of others take my place
Away from me,

I have your buildings,
And have taken
Love of colors, purple
As well as orange, away,

Reminders for myself come
In muttering mantras
That echo by the car door,
I am so strong, beneath all craft.

Biography: Ben Nardolilli's work has appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine, Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, fwriction, THEMA, Pear Noir, The Minetta Review, and Yes Poetry. He has a chapbook Common Symptoms of an Enduring Chill Explained, from Folded Word Press. He blogs at mirrorsponge.blogspot.com and is looking to publish his first novel.

Michael H. Brownstein - 3 Poems

On Cooking

She is a patient cook
and her father writes an overcoat,
white shirted bleached and stained,
blood marks and scarred lines,
underarmed nests of burnt hair.

The small pot of oatmeal sings,
a fringe of brown sugar and cinnamon,
a curse of raisins and bits of apple pie,
a refrain stuck in gear, my brother and I
cut from the same yard of grass,

and my father slips into a short man
thick with heavy gray weight,
context, cocoa and nonconformity,
every substance a different thought,
every cooked oatmeal scent her perfume.

Why We Do What We Do

The common theme is out of luck
as in a fishing hole without any fish
or a beautiful woman who locks
herself away to hide her ugliness.
Dust and acid killed the fish.
Lack of touch left the woman dead.

Ambitions

All my life

the low stung tree on the hilltop,
the river birch near the stream,
one mulberry tree in a field.

White branches no longer able to hold a weight in leaf,
the birch dips its roots into water,
the mulberry plans its invasion.

The path lacks shade,
the path lacks humor,
honor a seed hibernating into soil until its time of need.

Biography: Michael H. Brownstein has been widely published throughout the small and literary presses. His work has appeared in The Café Review, American Letters and Commentary, Skidrow Penthouse, Xavier Review, Hotel Amerika, Free Lunch, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Pacific Review, Poetrysuperhighway.com and others. In addition, he has nine poetry chapbooks including The Shooting Gallery (Samidat Press, 1987), Poems from the Body Bag (Ommation Press, 1988), A Period of Trees (Snark Press, 2004), What Stone Is (Fractal Edge Press, 2005), I Was a Teacher Once (Ten Page Press, 2011) and Firestorm: A Rendering of Torah (Camel Saloon Press, 2012). He is the editor of First Poems from Viet Nam (2011).