Featured Poems

bitter apology

by on February 12, 2016 :: 0 comments

sick of sorrow and forgiveness

sick of winter

grey sky, grey hills, the bodies of
animals left by the sides of
saltstained roads

the days all shaped like funnels

a need for oil, for transmission
fluid, for antifreeze

let the gears grind

let the houses burn

no more heroes, okay?

no more angry gods

and i sat there thinking i
should say something, but
there was nothing to say

had known her twenty years
earlier, when she was
beautiful, when i was still human

what happens is never clear

all hearts are clocks
running backwards

all moments are lost

why wouldn’t you laugh at
the pain this causes?

– John Sweet

editors note:

Not even a chuckle, when you’re chokin’ on crow. – mh clay

The Moon is Still Awake

by on February 11, 2016 :: 0 comments

The young girl walking by me along the cold hard levee
Crying, crying, crying into the night, as she passes.

“The knives are in the cupboard.”

She whispers.

– Jonathan Hayes

editors note:

And the moon has the key. – mh clay

Graveyard Swag (v. i.)

by on February 10, 2016 :: 0 comments

Trying to say something smart when there’s nothing to add to the conversation.
Trying to practice equanimity, to remember this illusion, our own creation.
Beginning to hate, questions and doubts, beginning to love, more questions, more doubts.
Beginning again, again, again, twist and shout, echo, echo, faint, ever fainter, fade out.
Swagger wearing a scary mask, that hides a lack of self-confidence.
Swagger inspired to the task, that loves to flaunt it when you notice.
There is no need for you, for true, when I see my flag in the wind unfurl.
There is no me, there is no you, no place for art in this righteous world.
Power that pounds on your door, complicit, no sense of irony.
Power that gives itself away, that hates its place in history.
Violence, a pendulum that swings faster, in an ever quickening cycle.
Violence that cuts through flesh, through blood, words slicing, a revival.
Love that looks its enemy in the eye with an open heart and a smile.
Love from the sweet bye and bye, ready for the kill, or to hold you a while.

– Randall Garrett

editors note:

What a thrill for a love that kills. – mh clay


by on February 9, 2016 :: 0 comments

my hands are freezing out in the november sun
here marks the end of something i wasnt so sure would’ve lasted to begin with
i was just trying to live in the moment and give each day a purpose
but i always believed the days had purpose and i always believed in god
i always had too much hope in my heart
or in my head
but they’re both deceiving and nobody will ever convince me otherwise
the stars in the sky shone so brightly last night
and while i sat on my window sill
i could smell lilacs
and i watched one single star fall out of the sky
and i was so mesmerised by its beauty that i couldnt even make a wish
it was like that with your eyes

– Gilbert Franco

editors note:

When wishing is just not enough; stars and eyes shine forever. – mh clay

Afterwords and Beyond

by on February 8, 2016 :: 0 comments

This is the soundtrack for the life and times of
Lefty Bell. 57 years
the dust still hasn’t settled.
My inner selves seated at my honors table
praised for their resiliency,
Couldn’t/wouldn’t break
Walk w/ dignity through these streets so mean
So mad
Soul De La soul Fela Kuti
wild out music revolution
On the make/semi retired
Loving me immovable
Put the panty drop song on
Sway on the tip
Sway on my thigh
Sway my body
Sip my lemon tea lime
Subversive head
Circa LaWanda Page listening to Wolfgang
pierce the marrow of my heart
Luna sweet like my AfroCuban soul
Big leg hot water sweet potato
honey sticks Smokin hot
laughing at the shadows
big 6
twenty twins
Snapping snapping
I dance the pain out
I dance the pain out

editors note:

Every after has an ever. Dance to your music… – mh clay


by on February 7, 2016 :: 0 comments

I step through the centre of my mind’s eye
And into the near future of this life
I don’t know where I am and for that, well
Just grateful to have escaped

Glad to be somewhere else
Whilst I experience even more
A whole life of inconsistency
That always seems pleasing to me

This life is meant to be lived
So take it now and do what you will
Because this is the one chance you’ll get
At this craziness called living

editors note:

We all live it; take it or not. – mh clay

Sonnet on Time

by on February 6, 2016 :: 0 comments

Is time a spiral stairway that we climb
Whose unendingness we seek to borrow
To the last wrought syllable of our rhyme
Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow —
The fusion of the future with the past
In dizzying dimensions ever new
Which hurl us headlong in a void so vast
That what we view as false appears as true?
We must peer through bars forever blocking
Upon the threshold of our promised land —
At the gates of eternity knocking —
Outside we stand — albeit hand in hand.

Through the rush of time we’re ceaselessly swirled.
How heartless is the transience of this world!

editors note:

Hand in hand we stand against the great Tick Tock. (Another one from Harley on her page; a birthday present – check it out.) – mh clay