Poetry by John Ogunlade : An Eternal Home, Darkest Hour, It Can Erupt

An Eternal Home

A man on the sick bed of separation,
A talking earth lies there for eternal refinery.
His speech is a shooting star from a falling sky–
Pondering listening ears hard for his depart–
Invoking tears on bystanders-a gully of feelings.
His wishes lies on his mortal lip–
To leave companion unrests weaken veins–
Whose flow of blood appointed limited time.
Companions–an onlooker of a passenger–
All helpless watching him going to an eternal world.


His mind wanders about,

trying to clutch what makes him internally

but it seems the grip has delved into nothingness.

He is a
shard of broken mirror.

The thought of his late wife

has made his
feeble hands look like a cataract of gore,

from pummels and strewn
of mirror reflecting his awkward self.

Overwhelming sounds aren’t
swallowed in the thin air.

Sounds are the clattering of plates, the
thudding of pots and the weeping of his two-years old son.

The chubby

The one that gives him joy and halts him from diving deeper
into the darkest hour.


 Anger 1
It boils.
His mind can’t endure choking it back.
The heat inside sear his head.
No iota of grin– a squeezed face.
Now, watch out! A volcano is about to erupt.
Anger 2
The muscle begins to flex.
The teeth gnashes– it vibrates.
The feet is the carrier of a vex lunge.
Hands want a toss in the air to clasp traitor’s neck.
Here, it is not opaque! It has repudiate soothe voices.
Anger 3
The opposite receive swollen cheeks from pummels.
When he punches an object rather than the face.
Even the thief ant should cringe– a bestial has evolve.
He scream and entertain gasps of danger.

John Ogunlade is a poet and fiction-writer. His writings encompasses effusive concrete matters circling around the happenings of the society. He means to portray the mystery behind human emotions and activities. Some of his works are published in ANA (Association of Nigeria Authors) Anthology and Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Anthology. He was also long listed for the Pendle War Poetry Contest 2018 for his poem, “Far Back in the Dark”. Twitter: JohnOgunlade1

Poetry: No and No by Norb Aikin

This is the noise that keeps me awake,
the tie-dyed sentiments flung
from dirt that can’t be un-dug,
and this is me saying no
to a wish that “no” isn’t an answer to.
The curl, pulled straight.
The antidote, failed.

Nothing good can come of this
and that’s why I’m here.

This is the lookalike and this is the duplicate
and I am the difference
that goes unnoticed
until it’s too late.
There’s something, and nothing,
and something from nothing,
but I walk on the outline of the void-
I won’t fall in from the push;
my recoil does all the work for me.

Let’s not and say we did
before we have to pretend,
or at least until we get caught.

This is the noise that keeps me awake
and this is the escape I can’t seem to make
when I least expect it
but that’s what I’m doing now
and no one’s gonna tell me otherwise
even if they wanted to.
Like a joke not worth explaining
to people who don’t understand laughter,
I can’t help myself from myself.

Norb Aikin has been published by Eliezer Tristan Publishing and uses his time wisely on Twitter (@Fivesixer). His first poetry collection, 100, has been positively reviewed widely and his second, Mutants, recently was released for Kindles with a paperback coming. It’s a slim follow-up to 100 and features some older material along with his current WIP. Look for the full release of Also Mutants in the Spring of 2020.

Poetry by Amanda McLeod : Ophelia, Drowned & Broken

Ophelia, Drowned

in madness and sorrow

turn from the depths, child,

and bathe your face in sweet light

let the current be your baptism

instead of your death

emerge clean, shining

know this darkness is not forever

beyond shadow, there is always light

for one does not exist without the other

give the river your sadness

but not your soul

your beauty is needed here

your joy brings joy to others

an ending means a new beginning

but not this kind of end

there is more for you here

than what one man could take away

let another you come forth




make the water your mirror

what do you see

when you search for yourself there?





Brother night, take me—-

Let me feel the coolness

Of your hands on my fevered skin

Sweet darkness—-

Drop your midnight veil

The harsh light of the sun

Burns my eyes Sears my lungs Scalds my heart

Pour on me the countless raindrops

That become the flood

Let darkmoon silence

Hum in my ears a mute ritual

Float me womblike in

Comfortable ebony air

My lacquered bones holding

No weight

Glass splinters

Prickle my stomach

Pierce my skin

I pull them out one by one

Careful not to spill my own blood; watch

The glitter spread on towels

Mind my step

Crushed hearts are sharp when

Only stars light the way

Each shard wet with the broken promise

Of an empty vessel

Amanda McLeod is an Australian creative. Her fiction and poetry can be found in Semicolon Lit, Ghost Parachute, Crepe & Penn, and other places. She is also the Managing Editor at Animal Heart Press. When she’s not playing with words, she’s usually looking for wild quiet places or good coffee. Find her on Twitter @AmandaMWrites or on her website amandamcleodwrites.com

Poetry: Painting, Insomnia, October Morning by Paul Robert Mullen


admittedly she had sad eyes

but don’t all lovers


someone commented that she was pale

someone else said she had pretty hair

i bet she’d be soft spoken you whispered

when everyone had gone

and i was left with the easel

and a broken window not yet repaired

i made myself some hot chocolate

to ease the gunfire

in my head

i started to question my vision of

Anna Karenina

and decided that next time

if i could stay out of bed

for long enough

i would paint snowflakes or nuclear war

anything but this


sunrise on a beautiful horizon

i haven’t slept for days and

this headspace is leaden heavy

i move like music jilted / somehow in tune

ready to break into …

the mountains blink and i shudder

at the thought of forever

empty plastic screams from the floor

i can only breathe through motion

you look at me as though i am a

dissatisfactory explanation

the sun swamps the half-light like the veil

on an ugly girl resigned

to mediocrity

there is life in the trees precious untarnished life

i watch through the window as though ready

for the arrival of someone

these walls stink of secrets & worse

we smile regardless

what more is there to do?



october mornings

are my favourite

since they are so lucid

there is no weight of expectation hanging

on an october morning

nobody expects storms or sunshine

nobody really expects anything

but a clear sky

that is neither red nor blue

i take my pills and wait for an october morning

it is July

Paul Robert Mullen is a poet, musician and sociable loner from Liverpool, U.K. He has three published poetry collections: curse this blue raincoat (2017), testimony (2018), and 35 (2018). He has been widely published in magazine, journals and anthologies worldwide. Paul also enjoys paperbacks with broken spines, and all things minimalist. Soon to be co-editor of the upcoming poetry & arts zine “The Broken Spine Arts Collective”

Twitter: @mushyprm35

Poetry by Samantha Merz : Peripheral Vision,Wind Chimes, Volcanoes Erupt


I like to focus on you
Unfortunately I don’t have tunnel vision
There is someone in my peripheral vision
Experiencing numbness from Carpal tunnel syndrome

Thought I saw a ghost in the reflection

Bad since birth
Paint chips and deli dips
Porcelain painted clocks
Poires Belle Helene
Wearing ruby red lip gloss
Glazed and dipped doughnut
Dreamiest scene

Cool Chrysler New Yorker
Seaside skyline
Cross my mind
Cinnamon chai
Crossing your mind
Why did the chicken cross your mind?
I think it’s definitely puppy love
Just like Allison and Russell
Fear of dreamers
Nothing I adore
Seen standing still

Boulevard Boy
Navy nights and stage fright
Caught me staring
On the bus
Saw a huge horned owl
Almost sunset
Quite Similar
Tiles for miles
Salmon berry sunset
Fortunate peace
Regal robins
Strange striated sidewalks
White snow fairy tale slide
Daffodils in dirt
Bye now
Before bed
Wild roses
Slow & stoned
Mechanical heart
James McAvoy Eyes

Jane and Jesse Pinkman
Descriptive distortion
Lush landscape
Pristine gardens
Slim stone statue
Pretty palace
Christmas decorating

Amazing alfresco ambiance
Meticulously manicured
Darkness of the soul
Spiritual healing
My way with words
On the right track

A brighter future
Complete concentration
Be friendly
Ready to travel
Think outside of the box
Mountain of magnolias
Glad you blaze

Riders Paradise
Musical West Virginia heaven
Playing John Denver in the sunshine state
Wearing my off the shoulder white mesh sweater

Florida key lime pie
Sweet slice of paradise
Coconut cocktails in Maui March Madness

Spring break bliss
Siren redemption
Heart shaped sunglasses
Listening to Marilyn Manson
I want to live in a black mansion

Sipping mango margaritas in Miami
Got to have my chai, Mai Tai in Hawaii
You feel real, highlights on the film reel
Feeling tipsy, running around the cul-de-sac

Not supposed to scream and shout, guess I should shut my mouth

Toujours bonjour
Et maintenant, au revoir

Seems like she has nothing to do, no one to see, and avoiding chores

Scrapes from speeding on Razor scooters on the Wide Island
Told by others I have a high pain tolerance, I guess you do too
Does he hold you down or put you on hold?
God knows what you’ve had to do for money

Wish I could’ve met your father, he was a glassblower

No laughing matter, a gaffer, not a myth but a glassmith
His ex-girlfriend stole your prized glassfish
Heaven sent at the winter event
I wore a classic Coach scent
So glad we went
Pent up excitement
Would never tell you to get bent

Who knows when he will next strike?
I sat down during your stand up set
You look like Kevin Parker if he had a buzz cut
Told I’m like Hermione with honey highlights

Birds of paradise on a mobile
Song birds on a carousel
Common birds on place mats and coasters
Framed Fendi Zucca prints on the walls
Mostly grey furniture to hide the stains
Idyllic Coffee Chain

Movement or cationic captured on campus cameras

Revelling in reverse
Army green on the scene


She finally chimed in during a drama class discussion about lovely sounds

Her favourite sound was the sound of wind chimes
Unfortunately, there was some unnecessary drama from the teacher

The student was told that the sound of wind chimes should only be heard in horror movies

The teenage girl became embarrassed and fell silent
She finally graduated years later

Moved on from theatrics and her wishes to be a contemporary celebrity
Observed a woman licking an unidentified object multiple times on the bus

Couldn’t look away

Didn’t want to assume the worst or tinker away to try to look better
Seeking positive energy to bring into her space

Wanting to find good luck outside, sweet dreams inside and a spiritual connection


It’s hard to debate with a mate

Good intentions backfire

Wooden bedside table replaced by a filing cabinet

Thinking about the possibility of a solar vortex, gobsmacked by the galaxy

His former flame enjoys watching commercials

She moves at a slower pace than him

Only after simple pleasures and routine

Cooking tuna casseroles after peeling carrots

Loves planting roses, dahlias and enjoys knitting

Left alone to shop; socialize.

Her subconscious gets the best of her

Volcanoes erupt

BIO: Samantha’s Passion Seeker poem was published in Lean In: A Collection of Canadian Poetry by Polar Expressions Publishing in 2018. Samantha’s Queen Carola’s Parotia on the Pergola, Rusty Red Roads, Surrounded by Vibrant Sun Conures, Girl On The Green, Sultry July, Hyper-Pigmented Psychedelia, Monster Truck, Paragon Paradise, Polvo, Drive Straight poems have been published online on Grey Thoughts in 2019. Samantha’s Volcanoes Erupt poem was published in Fevers of the Mind Poetry Digest Issue 2: In Memoriam, 2019.  Samantha’s work can also be found in Avalanches in Poetry: Writings & Art Inspired by Leonard Cohen