Poem – Discourse (By David Russell)

Discourse He was the foam on the backwash of conversation, Repelled by the safety-pier; Seeming to crave a knife to answer The upward wave-choppings, He felt as if there were an invisible plastic partition Segmenting the round, globular flatness Of all within his view – A tank, cramping and inflexible To cramp that perfect essence.   Blocks and straight lines […]

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Poem – Underwater Ballet (By David Russell)

Underwater Ballet In the wistful – drowning; All dreamers hold their breath; Floating balloon Rests full in blister world before the land.   Slippery between skin and scales, Drawn throbbing from the gilled; Great tuna from crustaceans postulated, Anemones new-boned; Parallel concert writhe Curls double joints.   Flippers of androgyny Erected supple   Thighs hoisted angular Lungs ultra-blown;   Last […]

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Poem – Liberation (By Amy Hrynchuk)

  Liberation “We heard a loud voice repeating the same words in English and in German…”1 May 25 1940, the first transport of thousands were marched through those gates. Gates that opened to what a select few called the Final Solution. But to those on the inside, the Final Solution had yet to come. Their Liberation Their Freedom Numbers painfully […]

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Poem – Carnival (By David Russell)

Carnival That peacock opulence, Swarming on strutting grime; That massed ecstasy, squeezing itself, Short-breathed, near suffocation; That sound-abandonment, seeming to plunge To deafness’s peace; Yet keeping those maimed faculties alive, Ever denying their last fulfilment.   Maybe it’s only I and it, I, starting in the middle And it, commensurate with my idea Of my own size?   Maybe I […]

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Poem – Alchemist (By David Russell)

Alchemist Sing, earth-captured starlight Purest light to touch the earth Purest light to flow through day and night To flood our sense-zone; Sing through my blinking tubes and phials, All potions, never poured; Yet all suffused in afterthought. My litmus-jewels, made one by burning faces, turning suns, That charred the fixed eye, the rooted touch. Bodies I gel, not cruelly […]

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