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Poetry 5 Spring 2018


The Last Thunder of the Season

      by  William Doreski


Sliding under a parked truck

to escape a sodden outburst

I surprise you and your lover,

whose face crumbles like a cake.


The air sizzles with blue shocks.

The rain, a cold November rain,

clatters in a sheaf of alloys.

You wanted to evade the dark


that permeates the small talk

that plagues coffee shops and restaurants

and even soils the museums

full of smudged, old-fashioned art.


Now you look a little shopworn

with your lover coiled around you

and the truck engine dripping oil

on the most precious parts of you.


What if with a horrible grunt

that diesel engine should start

and you have to roll out naked

before the huge tires rotate?


Your lover shrugs into his trousers

with enviable agility.

You pull your pieces together

with somewhat grimmer difficulty,


muttering about coincidence

honed and pointed like a harpoon.

The rain will stop soon enough,

but if lightning strikes near enough


we three could fry in colors

the spectrum hasn’t acknowledged

for many thousands of years.

Your lover isn’t used to my talk                      


and looks insulted and abashed.

You, though, with your favors

briefly exposed, haven’t blushed.

You know me too well to worry


that I’d write up this incident

and emblazon it in public runes

as if hoping to shame you.

The rain wrestles itself blind,


a distant line of trees tosses,

and the last thunder of the season

corrugates across the horizon

like a carnivore with a cough.


Bio: William Doreski's  work has appeared in a fair number of journals, and he has taught creative writing for some years. He  now lives in the woods and watches the snow fall. 



Into The Power

by   Robert  L. Martin


Into the power, that relentless pulse

That rides with the wind and noble gust,


Out from the mouth of the Almighty One

With fists of velvet and saintly drum,


Beyond the forests and over the trees

 Where worlds divide by mystic seas,


Where music abodes with her helping hands

And avails herself to all demands,


As earthly thoughts call for celestial highs

A journey into the power beyond the skies,


The playground of the Gods of the highest order

That live in saintly homes beyond the border,


Where the music wanders from musicians’ minds

As thoughts set out on their upward climbs,


And finds beauty all dressed up in her finest wear

As she casts her knowledge into the melodic air,


Moving the piano fingers with the power of sound

And leaving the bewildered, bewildered all around,


I honor the Music Gods and what they did for me.

Led me into the power, then brought me back home.



Bio: Robert L. Martin's works have appeared in "Mature Years," "Alive Now," "Wilderness House Literary Journal," "Poets' Espresso," "Greensilk Journal," among others. He won two "Faith and Hope" awards, published two chapbooks,and appeared in six anthology books. His main writing influence is Kahlil Gibran. His main hobby is going to the movies.



  by Neil Leadbeater


To the rear of Wordsworth Avenue

boys pounding through broomrape

“spikelets oblong or slightly wedge-shaped…

rough towards the tip.”


Whatever it is they are running on

the urge to be first at the finishing line

is uppermost in their minds –

it always has been and it always will be

because things like this never change-


the need to succeed is sown.


Neil Leadbeater is an author, editor, essayist, poet and critic living in Edinburgh, Scotland. His short stories, articles and poems have been published widely in anthologies and journals both at home and abroad. His books include Hoarding Conkers at Hailes Abbey (Littoral Press, 2010), Librettos for the Black Madonna (White Adder Press, 2011); The Worcester Fragments (Original Plus, 2013); The Loveliest Vein of Our Lives (Poetry Space, 2014) and Finding the River Horse (Littoral Press, 2017). He is a regular reviewer for several journals including Galatea Resurrects (A Poetry Engagement) (USA) and Write Out Loud (UK).  His work has been translated into Dutch, Romanian, Spanish and Swedish.