Poems
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Ghost boy
By David StavangerI knew this boy
a boy who never knew me
reflected in the cracked stained glass
of a city train full of morning corpses -
Half
By Clint GreaganIt's not enough to wash once after
a night of tedium, the good time
to make a break is gone, the chilled -
Old Poet to Young Poet
By David Stavangeryou are immature and I am highly evolved
you should read more Judith Wright and stop writing about yourself
"I" and "we" should not be used as poems are illuminations not spotlights
young poet smokes for photos / old poet smokes -
The Poets Of The 18th Century
By Brian HawkinsI had nothing to do so I went down
and asked the cows if they knew
of any cows who could talk, and they said
there was this cow near Gulargambone -
The problem with transportation
By Kelly-Lee HickeyI always kiss you at the train station
Where our lives intersect.
You always go the other way. -
Gravity
By Brendan Mackiemiddle of my stomach, still asleep, caffeine not working, no breakfast sorta feeling,
staring down a well, sc-sc-screaming down hearing only echoes bounce up while
wishes, coins and tears dr-drip down without a sound.
It's like: sudden calculation of all the variables and the constants in your -
Border Poems
By Stuart Cooke1.
People at the Bus Shelter; Raining
Trapped under the bus shelter, -
Couch
By Juliana DoupeJust brought
a 3 seater couch circa
1976, from the Don's Party school of interior deco,
upholstered in virulent orange and -
En Saga För örat
By Emilia JohanssonJag ligger och lyssnar på ett regn som inte slutar
Vad gråter himlen för idag?
Det domnar i mina öron
Det är inga droppar, allt blir bara en massa -
Mothers
By Juliana Doupedo to fill in the quiet,
where do I come from?
Mothers, like me,
in gestures and heart shaped faces and thinking -
Night
By Lainie Cameronno-one seems to embrace you
your slick reserve and enigmatic shadows
blanketing love and lovers words, their
lips and hands and flower-stemmed fingers -
Rope Burn
By Ryan ScottAgain Captain Again!
Again Captain Again!
Sea foam, screaming, salt bubbles, salt washed -
Schizophrenic dreaming
By Kate LockeShe sweeps through
the darkness, gliding like a black ghost, emerging here and there, only as
a shadow. Delicate hands, tiny waist. She is miniature, though tall and slender.
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Mantle
By Bradley JelfsRemember when the two
white candles burnt out
and the red candle on
the right frames our bodies -
These were the Westerns I wish I had wrote
By Ben DoranDear Diarist,
too soon full moon..not
tonight.
I am writing to you in secret, under the threat of death, in absentia, corpus delirium, help me cherubim stop dash seraphim, things with fins and cartoon-ish lords of sin (breathe) lance me for I am struggling to breathe and aching to cleave skin from bone. Tonight I feel alone. And so, to dialogue, let… -
The Me War
By Emilia JohanssonI want to be a soldier in my own struggling war
I wish to defeat the strong navy which is stationed in my heart
Every heartbeat sends out an army
Army "I don't know" and Army "fear and sorrow" -
Sagacious Ramblings
By Gerard ElsonWhen the world was flat and Columbus sailed
I had baggy-pants rags and the man who they'd nailed
To the rotating bed rolled down the catwalk
And took blood from the goose out of 'Jack and the Beanstalk' -
Nana died while I was tripping
By Kelly-Lee HickeyShe died alone in a wheelchair.
She was smoking herself to death.
In a world of few choices
She took one. -
5:03 (All Stops To Dapto)
By David StavangerThe girl waves at the walking
beer can
leering from the stained window of a nowhere train.
Her skirt, hemmed high above the clouds the -
My Generation
By Brendan MackieI see my generation like a flock of flustered mutton,
following questionless the parade of white wool and black hoofs in front of
them, the crowd behind,
taking step step step each hoof falling on well walked earth.
