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Guy

Death Is Certain | A Poem by John Patrick Robbins

The old writer knew his time was short, every day he was surprised when his eyes opened and yet another day stood before him.

He wasn’t unknown but even the best poet in this modern era is still a poet.

He had his works splattered like roadkill all over the board.

From Texas to England.
He was everywhere, his words knew the world and his body knew the long-term effects of an eternal good time.

His chest hurt where once a hopeful heart of a misspent youth did exist.

But that was many a moon and one-night stand ago.

He couldn’t recognize the fool who once said to a woman he almost called his wife.

I’m going to be a published writer one day.

That poor fool died long ago with dreams that were soft and sunsets that even now he avoided staring at for too long.

His road was forged alone with rejection slips and pain.

The old writer wasn’t as near as old as he felt.

—–
John Patrick Robbins is a barroom poet who’s work can also be found in In Between Hangovers, Your One Phone Call, and The Outlaw Poetry Network. His work is unfiltered like his thoughts.


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No-Minding My Own Business | A Poem by Sudeep Adhikari

I never noticed that it all can
go so quiet sometimes. I can almost
hear the breaths and buzzes of a
a punk-looking bug that keeps
coming around my balcony, painted
in color of fire, mixed with a few
faces of cremated cloud. And
that sound of leaking faucet, remixed by
the moans of unseen
desires with wings and wheels.

The death of thoughts is the birth
of my no-mind. I see
pure nothingness morphing into
countless multiverses, before
I wake up to my
old world of decay and innocent sins.


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Inspiration | A Poem by Debra Sasak Ross

Inspiration
Comes and goes;
Like the tide
It ebbs and flows.
Responsibility,
Obligation
Have taken a hold
Of an entire nation.
When does one find time to write,
While fighting the good fight?
The time to learn?
The time to grow?
Inspiration
It comes and goes.

Visit Debra at https://www.facebook.com/groups/fallenangelpoetry/.

—–
Debra Sasak Ross is a published poet from Chicago, Il. You can find her work in the anthologies, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze and Dandelion in a Vase of Roses. She has also been published at allpoetry.com. She loves reading, writing, thunderstorms and blizzards.

Sing Me a River | A Poem by Sudeep Adhikari

Silverslimed oysters, afloat careless
await to rest on those simmering dunes
of silt topaz. Longing, longing, longing
like a lonesome night
more longing, ad infinitum.

Now I want to walk, naked and sane
like the first man, who talked
with those ethereal winds
and felt the winter of a shivering rose
without an ounce of thought.

But in all becoming
you are a nomad, a gypsy.
A soul on an experience voyage
rest not on the shore
you slither, you suffer.

Visit Sudeep at https://www.amazon.com/Art-Changing-Nothing-Punk-Gigs/dp/1973927314/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1505785564&sr=8-2&keywords=sudeep+adhikari.

—–
Sudeep Adhikari is a structural engineer and lecturer from Kathmandu, Nepal. He has been recently published in Beatnik Cowboys, Zombie Logic Review, The Bees Are Dead, Silver Birch Press and Eunoia Review. His poetry volume, “The Art of Changing Nothing to Punk Gigs”, was released by Alien Buddha Press in July 2017. The poem originally appeared in an anthology titled “Resurrection of a Sunflower”, published by Pski’s Porch Publishing.

Fish Condominiums | A Poem by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The casual way I flipped through the pages sickened me
I thought of typhoid fever in the sub-tropics
shipwrecks that become fish condominiums under the sea
the homeless man outside in the rain who never once smiled
for lack of teeth
and the way I watched the stairs to see the legs
that would come down them,
then the faces which were always a disappointment,
I felt a sudden aversion
as though distaste and fasting had become the same thing
when I wasn’t looking…
closing my eyes to sun tracers
I decided to flip through six more pages,
then be done with the thing.

—–
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, In Between Hangovers, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.