Incinerated by Susan Isla Tepper

When you first left

I ran to the top

of the house 

tore open the window 

looked out 

over the tree line.

The trees were shivering.

I thought about searching

everywhere.

You can’t be located

on any map—

for me your body

has become incinerated—

It’s hard to remember

to pretend.

My lips squeezed shut

a rush of words

too cold to swallow.

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.

A WOMAN DOES NOT HAVE TO WAIT by Strider Marcus Jones

under the old canal bridge you said

so i can hear the echoes

in your head

repeating mine

this time

when it throws

our voices from roof into water

where i caught her

reflection half in half out of sunshine.

thats when i hear Gerschwin

playing his piano in you

working out the notes

to rhapsody in blue

that makes me float

light and thin

deep within

through the air

when you put your comforts there.

Waits was drinking whisky from his bottle

while i sat through old days with Aristotle

knowing i must come up to date

because a woman does not have to wait.

Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/. A member of

The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry  https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/ reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms.

  

His poetry has been published in numerous publications including: The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine;The Lampeter Review and Dissident Voice.

I See You By JPR

For the snake's proverbial tongue is always unmistakable to one such as I.

A predator hidden lacks the conviction of the wolf that stands within the open alone.

A drill bit bites into the knee; your confession matters nothing to me.

For I desire to witness you suffer.

As you walked in of your own volition.

But who said anything about leaving?

The deadbolt is merely to contain.

Never to prevent the unwanted witnesses’ momentary intrusion.

Never mistake, there is always someone willing to cross that invisible line.

Where one finds shackles of morality another equally views freedom in the rapture of murder’s power trip.

Cross the wicked and so will you suffer the consequences.

JPR, is a southern gothic writer his work has been published by.

Disturb The Universe, Horror Sleaze Trash, Piker Press, Fixator Press, The Dope Fiend Daily, Punk Noir Magazine, It Takes All Kinds A Literary Zine, Spill The Words and Fearless Poetry Zine.

His work is often dark and always unfiltered.

Brace by Susan Isla Tepper

— for Ukraine

You’ve seen the world

claim you paid the price

suffered:  Suffering 

is bombs falling

Years on end 

tanks down the streets

the queueing for food

and water shortages,

Collapsed buildings

corpses lining the roads

starving animals

eating other dead ones.

You haven’t suffered.

Brace yourself.

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.

Ophidiophobia by Bruce Morton

The caduceus

Not withstanding

She is afraid,

Deathly afraid,

Forever fearful,

Limbic phobic,

Of snakes.

I am not

Sure why.

Perhaps it has

Something to do

With Eve.

Bruce Morton divides his time between Montana and Arizona.

ALL by Susan Isla Tepper

          for Simon Perchik (1923 – 2021)

All I can do is speak of love

your words and the color

of the sky

each breaking season—

Allow me to explain

my sadness at your leaving

so many felt that pain’s 

strange progression

in stops and starts.

All the while you knew

I still needed you.

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.

Species by Susan Isla Tepper

Don’t be fooled.

We are now at the beginning.

I dare not say this out loud

for fear of being stoned.

Ridiculous, you would say,

Much more likely

you will be shot or raped.

But I know better.

The ants are back

in proliferation.

New species, much smaller, 

more deadly.

Susan Isla Tepper is a twenty years published writer in all genres. Her current project is an Off-Broadway Play on the subject of art and life.