‘Fallen’ By Gareth Culshaw

1024px-Ivan_Shishkin_-_Wind-Fallen_Trees

‘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.

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‘The Mist’ By Gareth Culshaw

space_tree_by_wojtekkowalski58-d5e0kvc

“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

sky2j

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.

‘The Doctrine Of Signatures’ By Elizabeth Rimmer

512px-230_Hypericum_perforatum

By Swedish Botanist Carl Axel Magnus Lindman

 

Those white spots on the leaf are signs,
says William Cole, who dislikes astrology,
of a plant for the healing of lungs.
He sees signs everywhere. Red spots
on leaves of St. John’s wort, when held
against the sun, appear like pores,
and thus, the herb will heal the skin.
Tuberous roots of embarrassing shape
he tells us, are appropriately known
as pilewort. Those veins so prominent
on a plantain leaf mean health for heart
and blood. Yellow flowers clear jaundice.
Heart-shaped petals on rose or violet
will tell you what it’s good for.
No medicinal plant without its sign,
God-given, he says, unlike the foolish claims
of other doctors, missing the useful habit
of those who learn, to create a hook
for memory, for passing wisdom on.

 


Elizabeth Rimmer has published two poetry collections with Red Squirrel Press, Wherever We Live Now, and The Territory of Rain. Her third, Haggards, includes poems about herbs, wild landscapes, and ways of knowing as a response to social upheaval and regeneration and will be out in early 2018. She blogs at www.burnedthumb.co.uk.

‘This Must Be The Right Dimension’ By Z.M. Wise

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Artwork By Nicolas Raymond

Silken spreadsheets,
barren wasteland,
who are you?
Who can this possible being be,
Rilke in full-fledged uniform?

Chariot awaits your arrival.
The horses,
dehydrated by a mouth drought,
focus on the cubes of sweetness.

The New Year marches this way.
Granny smiths and honey of flesh,
Ah…sensual words tap dance on my neck.

Rest of the established acolytes
convulse sporadically, for it is
their time to protest the
Immaculate War on Education.

Peace be with you,
Son of Sons.

Kingdom of Oasis winery,
refined and reformed to
eligible consumers and hatchling couples.
One sip completes their
Festival of the New Dawn.

Floodlights!
Deadlights!
Lost in dancing clown dimensions!
Mourning till morning.
He has been knighted on this night.

Sirens in the War Room,
Communists blocked…
They installed a firewall to
keep from hidden track changes.

Need a helping hand?
Just you wait.
We have stopped guarding the ally’s gate.

Bring thy nourishment or
experience thy tickled pink laughter.
Colder than the moon,
held against a written will.
All he carries is his
black liquid and recharged quill.

Story of articulate life:
smart as whips,
dumb as they come.
Enter! Enter!
Teaspoon of civilization envies
improbable pasts.

 


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.

Call For Bee Themed Submissions

 

 

UPDATE:

“Bee Week” has been temporarily postponed. Everyone will be notified when their work is published.

We’ll be updating everyone on Twitter (@land_alliance), so stay tuned.


Bees play an important role in our environment. That’s why we’ll be celebrating them during “Bee Week.”

We’re looking for poetry, artwork, photography, and essays that feature bees in any way.

Written submissions may be pasted in the body of the email or sent as an attachment. All images must be attached.

Don’t worry about file formats.

Deadline is: Extended!! You Can Send Entries Through July — Even If They Are Not Included In ‘Bee Week,’ They May Still Be Considered For General Submissions. June 3o, 2018 (Don’t worry about your time zone either)

Send To: save.the.tierra@gmail.com – subject line “Bee Submission”

No payment. This journal supports @land_alliance, a crowdfunded project dedicated to nature.

You should hear from us by the end of July.

Any questions can be sent to the address above.

And don’t forget, we are open to general submissions year-round!

 

Kate Alsbury | Editor