‘Life Line’ By Akka Ballenger Constantin

Akka Ballenger Constantin

 

For more about Akka visit planetakka.blogspot.com. Find her on Twitter @PlanetAkka and Instagram @drommeren. Check out her new projects ahatofmanydreams.blogspot.com & songsfrommygrasslands.blogspot.com.

 

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‘Skylarks’ By Gareth Culshaw

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From “Birds Through The Year” London, T.C. & E.C. Jack, LTD. 1922 

Skylarks

From afar they are a cloud
of gnats. Bouncing off the land.
 
The telephone wire holds them
like beads of rain on a washing line.
 
Syllables race between their claws
surges into their wings,
 
a shoal, a gathering, a mosaic
of shattered pieces
 
before they rest on the floor,
becoming just another flock

 

                             of beaks, wings.

 


Gareth lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer with his first collection out in April 2018 by futurecycle. 

‘Between Nant FFrancon’ By Gareth Culshaw

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‘Fall of the Ogwen, in Nant Frangon, Caernarvonshire’ By Henry G. Gastineau & H. Lacey, Engraver, 1831

 

Between Nant Ffrancon

It was here
              inside the ‘U’
where ice had once shipped
 
itself to the sea leaving
a wound of rock.
 
Above ground moraine
above kettle holes
above the cirque
 
between the once tongues of ice
that had licked the valley.
 
At first,  swept coal dust,
then a bee like movement
flexed the stillness,
waved the height of peaks
 
up and
             down.
 
before being kneaded by the valley’s
shoulders,  settling
into my brains fabric
 
growing with every step
 
             as I walked slowly
                           slowly away.

 

 


Gareth lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer with his first collection out in April 2018 by futurecycle. 

 

 

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Stone structures at the southern end of the glaciated valley. Photo By Mat Fascione, Creative Commons License.

 

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Dry-Stone Wall, Nant Ffrancon
Alongside the Lôn Las Ogwen Cycle Path.’ Photo By Ian Taylor, Creative Commons License.

 

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‘Nant Francon’ By Edward Pugh & Thomas Cartwright, Engraver

‘Fallen’ By Gareth Culshaw

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‘Wind-Fallen Trees’ By Ivan Shishkin

FALLEN

Unzipped by clouds
it was smudged in the sky.
 
I watched a froth
 
of light
 
slowly cook into a ball.
 
Soon the night, which
was hiding behind
trees, houses, sheds,
 
people,


          fell to the floor
 
lying like felled trees.

 


Gareth lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer with his first collection out in April 2018 by futurecycle.

‘The Mist’ By Gareth Culshaw

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“Space Tree” By wojtekkowalski58 via Deviant Art, Creative Commons License.

THE MIST

The trees have taken root
in the sky
               preventing the blue
                           floating away
 
But then, coughed up,
                 the woods cavity
                                is filled
 
by the moon’s fat
that had been hanging
all night on the rivers back.
 
Time suddenly stopped
as the wood pushed trees
into the mist
like it was polystyrene
 
just in case its shape
fell away.

 


Gareth lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer with his first collection out in April 2018 by futurecycle.

‘From One Sphere To Another’ & ‘Rivers’ By Z.M. Wise

River Run

River Run By Kate Alsbury

From One Sphere To Another

With this family of
planetary bodies rebelling against gravity,
I renounce all former beliefs and
have taken on the guise of a
wolf whisperer in dire straits.

Take this abysmal chance and
seize this minute of fortune.
The true Egyptian eye
speaks not of Anubis, but of
life beyond his approval.

Every gateway is a
golden arch that makes itself prominent.
It tempts you to pass that test, but
Hades’s watchful intuition
crosses each foreign line.

Make out underneath the
Grey Pack’s den and be
bewildered by familial spring beauty.
Baby, through reincarnation,
we will forge the signature of the pre-gods.

From one sphere to another,
our mission is fulfilled.

 

 

Rivers

Rivers tell us the
secrets that lie beneath
our most shallow verdicts.
They are used for a
delightful choir of blowing leaves,
hovering in the autumn air.
Wooden debris floats gently
while thinking of Utopia’s left hand.
To civilization!
To comrades young and old!
To the kisses of life!
To a glorious night…on the river!

Rivers are
wandering minds that
share the same concept:
all but one shall pass humanity and
discover spirituality.
My dearest ally: the river.

Rivers contain
our only refreshing hope
of surviving a morbid prophecy.
If only your distraction feelings
could be set aside for the younger generation.
They have ways of innocence
to spread to this dimly-lit world.
Let their oblivious eagerness
shine on our faces of selfishness.
We can try to keep quiet.
We should all be so calm.
We can only be as calm as a river.

Rivers did not predict
the upcoming war,
the unfortunate rise of the Beige Enders.
With luck, we can only hope
that peace will be our
shield of mercy.

 

Read More By Z.M. Wise


Z.M. Wise is a proud Illinois native, poet, co-editor and poetry activist, writing since his first steps as a child. He has been a written-word poet for almost two decades and a spoken-word poet for four years. He was selected to be a performer in the Word Around Town Tour in 2013, a Houston citywide tour. He is co-owner and co-editor of Transcendent Zero Press, an independent publishing house for poetry that produces an international quarterly journal known as Harbinger Asylum. The journal was nominated Best Poetry Journal in 2013 at the National Poetry Awards. He has published four full length books of poetry, including: ‘Take Me Back, Kingswood Clock!’ (MavLit Press), ‘The Wandering Poet’ (Transcendent Zero Press), ‘Wolf: An Epic & Other Poems’ (Weasel Press), and ‘Cuentos de Amor’ (Red Ferret Press). Other than these four books, his poems have been published in various journals, magazines, and anthologies. The motto that keeps him going: POETRY LIVES! Mr. Wise will make sure to spread that message and the love of poetry, making sure it remains vibrant for the rest of his days and beyond. You can find him on Twitter @ZMWisePoet, on Tumblr, and Amazon.

‘Peace Within A Nebula’ By Z.M. Wise

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Kate Alsbury

Through telescope eyes,
the eagle flies.
Once it has landed,
its presence is surrounded by spatial skies.

So hard to look away,
the planetary bodies of night.
They stayed to absorb the
energies of faceless scientific circles.

Kneel before Neil.
A choir sings as dotted lights brighten.

In the stellar nursery,
dust collects.
Hydrogen laughs under constant freedom.
Helium heightens the auditory language.
Gas swims through the ether.

Communication has no barrier and
the silence of space translates clearer than
ice crystals that form in the process.

Collapse from gravity,
steal every bit of momentum.
Density attracting matter,
every artistic step matters.

Incessant internal wars within the
center, why can’t the populace find
peace within a nebula and leave all
preexisting Earth judgments behind?

A new world: founded on balance and
utopian prosperity,
where every day includes a night sky.

One astronaut’s gravitational pull is
another astronaut’s opposite magnetic push.
Under the guise of glass helmets,
they could be making any face,
thinking any thought.

Radiation from the ultraviolet,
sensing the birth of astronomical mutation.

Diffuse:
emission has visible light and
reflection rejects it.

Dark:
they do not provide illumination, but
bring on the infrared blackness of dust.

Supernova Remnant:
implode and explode the unwanted layers,
leaving behind the semblance of a descendant.

Planetary:
low mass star in the final stage,
living fewer years due to peer pressure.

Proplanetary:
temporary life, a short-lived episode,
some evolution, devolving from the skies.

964 CE: Abd al-Rahman a-Sufi saw one,
a little cloud, flirting with Andromeda.
Brothers Omicron Velorum and Brocchi’s Cluster.

July 4th, 1054: Nebula of the Crab,
seen by the masses of Arabic nations and China.

17th Century European division,
multiplying sights and never being able to
fully grasp concepts of the scholarly.

Fly with the Eagle.
Hunt with the Orion.
Marry the Rings.
Plant the Rosette.

Why can’t they find that unrelenting
peace within a nebula and leave all
judgmental doomsday quarrels behind?
Better to be diverse in the expanding universe.

 

Read More By Z.M. Wise


Z.M. Wise is a proud Illinois native, poet, co-editor and poetry activist, writing since his first steps as a child. He has been a written-word poet for almost two decades and a spoken-word poet for four years. He was selected to be a performer in the Word Around Town Tour in 2013, a Houston citywide tour. He is co-owner and co-editor of Transcendent Zero Press, an independent publishing house for poetry that produces an international quarterly journal known as Harbinger Asylum. The journal was nominated Best Poetry Journal in 2013 at the National Poetry Awards. He has published four full length books of poetry, including: ‘Take Me Back, Kingswood Clock!’ (MavLit Press), ‘The Wandering Poet’ (Transcendent Zero Press), ‘Wolf: An Epic & Other Poems’ (Weasel Press), and ‘Cuentos de Amor’ (Red Ferret Press). Other than these four books, his poems have been published in various journals, magazines, and anthologies. The motto that keeps him going: POETRY LIVES! Mr. Wise will make sure to spread that message and the love of poetry, making sure it remains vibrant for the rest of his days and beyond. You can find him on Twitter @ZMWisePoet, on Tumblr, and Amazon.

Art Credit: Created with images form NASA and brushes by demosthenesvoice.