March Selections!!!
Here are the poems that have been selected for the month of March!!! Congratulations to all!
“Oh”
Stripped. Dropping the same
shivers
over and over again. Ice
sliding cross human
skull
til numb is pain.
Sam Hoskins
“don’t just do something sit there”
thinking
is arbitrary
mental chatter–
trivia–
bolting up
clattering wombs
systematic
umbilical strangling exactness
lacking
the life of
lax
Sam Hoskins
“Condemned”
Riding, forever riding
on the walls,
the place twists its head
as the scribbled fray of strips
crisscross the stairwell sideways,
sinking color into cement pores
where rain has stayed and
decayed their way into the cocked heads
of the open yellowed windows leaning out
in suicidal fixation over the city streets,
staring down at their broken bodies.
Writing, forever writing
in the halls, of places wild and forgotten,
the light leaves skid marks
as it chases rats and rages about,
sticks its crooked fingers beneath the doors,
sniffing around the flattened mold
for the plug’s ground zero,
for the soft winded world’s incantations
Looking, forever looking
beneath and around the knobs all lined
in a row across the wall,
leading into the insulation slew,
the pipes, the paint, then the other room
once, and then again
groping the prospect of morning,
as every figure cast onto the wall fades
into a separate and isolated
corner of the mind.
Alex Joins
“Running Loneliness”
I’m running loneliness
along the curves of your rocky spine
on a rolling track wedged behind
the wrinkles of forgotten knotted skin
where your head nuzzles warmly
into the cutlery of vertebrae
hanging off below:
a cliff constructed by a sling of hanging wire
slumped so heavenly serpentine
never failing to defy
victorian pose.
As fingers fade
into the cropped lines of a fair complexion,
into the depths of an auburn studded pool
I’m running loneliness up and down
the mountains of your chin
down the gorges, up the wind-swept trench
further on, to the apparition’s brew
acting only as the glue entwined
in the moats all surrounding your furrows
that somewhere meet
and connect your limbs
to the rest of the world.
Alex Joins
“Womb”
I could sleep forever
inside the open door’s frozen veneer,
swung tight out into the old times of season,
caught in the rocky clutch
of the place
where our heels have trodden down
the wooden steps,
where small rabbits
curl into half-moon pies,
where small children
fantasize of their birth,
caught in the grip
of a glowing red
reminisce.
Alex Joins
“Midnight”
Barely conscious
Waking dream flutter
Wisps of smoke, caught
By the fog
Frozen, fighting
To escape the blanket
Of exhaustion, chilled
By persistent apathy
Blinds closed
Darkness finally victorious
Not drifting, but captured
By restless sleep
Anastasia Towe
