Arlene Weiner: Ghazal
When parting or meeting we wish each other peace.
We show with every greeting that we are lovers of peace.
Abriel Louise Young: Calling on Friends Across the Veil to Help Us Change History
What is the deepest loss that you have suffered? Have you succeeded in changing yourself to wine? If so, please report back.
Robert Okaji: Dream Score
I empty my mother’s ashtray of its treasures—
various picks, the broken watch, a mandolin bridge,
that lock of my wife’s hair—then peer through the amber
glass at a distorted day. What looks back at me?
David Kirby: Whatever Happened to Bobby Dunbar?
26 people
were killed in the 2012 Sandy Hook school massacre,
among them a first grader whose father was later
confronted by a man who said it was all a hoax
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: Acceptance
Today grief is a long steady rain
Chard deNiord: I Call Out to You
Any moving object must reach halfway on a course before it reaches the end; and because there are an infinite number of halfway points, a moving object never reaches the … Continue reading
Barbara Hamby: 17 Dollars
That’s how much the man who owned DuBey’s gave me
for my books that time you insisted
they were taking up space and we needed the money.
Michael Simms: Banned!
Vox Populi is not alone in experiencing censorship from Facebook which has often been accused of blocking messages critical of Israel and supportive of Palestine.
Kathryn Levy: Three Poems
The geese are calling—this is
time to depart. They gather and sink and
soar toward somewhere.
Betsy Sholl: Helium
Oh, sweet dream,
stay with lovers afloat and doe-eyed donkeys,
don’t let the wind shift to newsclips of burnt
steeples, smoldering hospitals and schools.
Robert Creeley: The Rain
What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often?
Jose Padua: The Shape I’m In
it was the middle of a Lower East Side winter and the heat
in my apartment that night was up so high, after being completely out
for a week, that I couldn’t help but feel sexy, knowing I had pork buns
in my tiny fridge
Jim Daniels: Roaming the Galleries
No one ever stopped on Rome Street in Warren, Michigan,
to set up their easel and paint, not even on John B.
after 6 members of the Park family died in a Christmas fire
Alfred Corn: Instagram posts of Dr. Ali Tahrawi
Tired as if we were dead and lived again and suffered all kinds of pains and died again and again every day, in this hell of life, as if this is it, forever, as if this genocide would never end, and as if death is the only way out!
