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Close of Play

3/28/2025

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Picture
by Bernard Pearson

In the  cradle
Of our last night,
When all things hang
In the balance of time
Will we see, really see?
The world that dies with us,
or the one that has waited
So patiently, for our return.

* * *

BERNARD PEARSON: His work appears in over one hundred and thirty publications worldwide, including; Aesthetica Magazine, The Edinburgh Review, and Crossways. In 2017 a selection of his poetry, In Free Fall, was published by Leaf by Leaf Press.

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Micropoetry: Mugs, Moments, and Musings

3/14/2025

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Picture

another birthday,
the open road still calls
but not as loud

             *


my good friend Bill
drinks wine from a coffee mug,
that says it all

​by Charles Rossiter
​
             # # #
​
spirits of the dead
return for one day
i set my chinaware 

            *

mismatched in height & weight
we both take 3 sugars
in our coffee

​by Kyle Hemmings

About The Poets:

Charles Rossiter has served as associate editor of Modern Haiku under Bob Spiess. With Jeff  Winke he co-edited the Third Coast Haiku Anthology, one of the earliest U.S. haiku anthologies. He lives and writes in Bennington, VT.

Kyle Hemmings has work published in Is/let, Bones, 2021 Best Flash Fictions, and elsewhere. He likes 50s sci-movies and 60s garage bands. His favorite groups of all time are love and Spirit. He loves his bicycle that he names Alice. ​

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Sleep

2/28/2025

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Picture
by Scott Ortolano

I remember
the first time we slept together,
slumbering in a room covered with poetry and song.
 
We held one another desperately
in a world that refused to stand still.

* * *

Scott Ortolano is an English Professor at Florida SouthWestern State College. You can usually find him reading, running, hiking, or frantically grading. More of his work is available at www.SOrtolano.com

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Messenger

2/21/2025

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Picture
by David Thompson

No news for several days:
I went to the florist anyway.
An armful of flowers
means love in any language:
new buds, odours, colours,
fresh beauty shared.

But if today was different?
Outside the shop, sun hit the blooms.
As I paused, a butterfly
slipped through a gap in time,
danced a last poem,
and settled softly
on a white cyclamen
to tell me I was too late.

When I got home,
a message said
you'd left my world that morning.

* * *

David Thompson was a translator, interpreter, editor and publisher with the UN and WHO in New York, Bangkok and Geneva. He has since published two poetry collections: Days of Dark and Light (2021) and Where The Love Is (2023).

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Mannequin

2/7/2025

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Picture
by Morgan Chalfant

It hurts to see you still have no ability.
You can’t make decisions for yourself.
Individuality was torn out of reach,
hidden on someone else’s shelf.
 
You’re a doll, a marionette on strings,
a mannequin posed in place.
If you had the choice of what to look like,
you’d let someone else choose your face.
 
What do you call your personality,
when the ‘person’ you are isn’t you?
If I asked you what to bury you in,
you’d answer, “He told me I want blue.”

* * *

​Morgan Chalfant is a novelist, poet, and an instructor of writing at Fort Hays State University. He is a native of Hill City, Kansas. He received his bachelor's degree in writing and his master's degree in literature from Fort Hays State University. He is the author of the horror/thriller novella, Focused Insanity, and the urban fantasy novel, Ghosts of Glory.


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Screaming

1/24/2025

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Picture
by Lynn White

Do you scream in tune
in muted monochromes
flat and featureless,
or are your screams
discordant

stark

black and white.
No grey.
No doubt.

A kaleidoscope
of keys and tones
of terrifying sounds

which scream out to me.

* * *

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality.
​Blogspot: Lynn White Poetry
Facebook: Lynn White Poetry

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Two Ravens

1/17/2025

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Picture
by Bonnie Demerjian

His glinty eye,
alert for the shiny,
avid for the curious.
He’s a connoisseur of beauty
and feels no guilt.

I too am a collector— 
subjects for poems,
bright objects of delight
brought home to my nest, my desk
to sort and muse upon.

* * *

Bonnie Demerjian writes from her home in the Tongass National Forest, a place that continually nourishes her writing. Her poetry has appeared in Tidal Echoes, Alaska Women Speak, Blue Heron Review and October Hill Magazine, among others.

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Baggage

1/10/2025

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Picture
by Morgan Chalfant

Everyone has baggage
Mine’s a backpack
Nothing snooty
Two straps and heavy
Nothing fancy
Filled with the norm:
A disappointed old man
Lost keys to the past
Friends I wish still were
And a little secret pocket of aspirations

* * *

Morgan Chalfant is a novelist, poet, and an instructor of writing at Fort Hays State University. He is a native of Hill City, Kansas. He received his bachelor's degree in writing and his master's degree in literature from Fort Hays State University. He is the author of the horror/thriller novella, Focused Insanity, and the urban fantasy novel, Ghosts of Glory.

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These

12/16/2024

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by Corey Mesler

On this day
when I need
to unlock
something
beautiful
the sky roars
like the
final horn
and here I am
alone again
with only these
careless keys.

* * *

COREY MESLER has been published in numerous anthologies and journals including Poetry, Gargoyle, Lunch Ticket, Five Points, New Stories from the South. He has published over 45 books.  With his wife he owns Burke’s Book Store (est. 1875) in Memphis. 

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i hate living ghosts

12/4/2024

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by Linda M. Crate

​when best friends
transition to
ghosts,
this aching heart
feels as if it will
ache forever;
i wish i could let her go
but she was my childhood— 
i still see the auburn and gold
of her hair in the summer sun
when i look at the childhood in my past,
how am i supposed to simply forget her
as she has me?
i hate living ghosts,
at least you know where to visit the dead. 

* * *

Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer whose works you can find at her social media links: 
​
Facebook 
Instagram
Twitter

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Dress

11/20/2024

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by Joshene Bersales

She finds an old dress
in her closet
by accident.

Black
cheap cotton
a hole in one pocket
(she was proud of those pockets)
and two missing buttons.

“It’s all wrinkled up
like me,”
she says with a laugh.

He steps into her space.

"Still beautiful— 
that dress 
and you."

She doesn’t feel beautiful
most days.

But in that moment
with that wrinkled ol’ dress
in her arms
and she in his

she feels
the fairest
of them all.

* * *

Joshene Bersales is a writer, editor, and translator from the Philippines. She self-published her first digital short story collection, Box the Stars and other stories, in 2021. Connect with her via https://linktr.ee/joshenebersales.

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a trio of haiku

11/15/2024

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by Daniel Rogers

autumn wind
the busker's guitar
out of tune


sunset
the fruit bowl
full of oranges

​
starry night
flicking through
an old diary
​
* * *

Born and raised in Lancashire, England, Daniel moved to Poland in 2015, where he now teaches English as a foreign language. When not divulging the finer points of English grammar, he likes to write.

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Renaissance

11/11/2024

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by Philippa Ramsden

As autumn settles, 
poppies continue to appear 
and bloom, albeit 
under a veil of raindrops.

* * *

Following a career in international development, Philippa Ramsden returned to Scotland somewhat adrift and has now settled in East Lothian. Her writing draws from life and work in Nepal, Mongolia, India, Sri Lanka, Myanmar and Rwanda and her Scottish surroundings.

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changing like autumn

11/4/2024

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by Linda M. Crate

let me change like autumn,
transform into my prettiest colors;
let everything dead fade
away into the sky;
bathe me in a golden sunset
that could heal every
broken thing in my soul. 

* * *

Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer whose works you can find at her social media links: 
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter

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We Don't Live with the Others

10/30/2024

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by Lisa Lahey

We don’t act like them, the xenophobes
and kinemortophobes,
each of us with a peculiar
look and a lamentable odour.
We’d love to run among the blue green grass
on frozen glass mountains,
with the cannibals
and their turquoise camels.
There is the one who sheds her skin 
every birthday so she can grow
while the skin melts into the ground.
There is another whose eyes
are moonlit lasers that x-ray every bone
and dream in a demon’s head.
You fear us all, that’s why we stay hidden.
It isn’t fair, shetani,
but what is?

* * *

Lisa Lahey's short stories and poetry have been published in 34th Parallel Magazine, Five on the Fifth, Bindweed Anthology, Spadina Literary Review, Vita Poetica, Ariel Chart Review, VerbalArt Journal, and Altered Reality.

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