Thursday, September 26, 2013

A Poem by Dawnell Harrison

Fallen Away

What was soft inside me
has fallen away -
broken off like an icicle
from back doorstep eaves.
My heart lies within
but bleeds without.
The whispering of the stars
love the sky while the silky moon
bled white bursts of light.

Dawnell Harrison has been published in over 100 magazines and journals including The Endicott Review, The Journal, Fowl Feathered Review, Jellyfish Whispers, The Bitchin' Kitsch, Vox Poetica, The Tower Journal, Queen's Quarterly, and many others.  Also, she has had 4 books of poetry published through reputable publishers titled Voyager, The maverick posse, The love death, and The fire behind my eyes.  Furthermore, she possess a BA from The University of Washington.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Two Poems by Sarah Thursday

Lies To Tell My Body
My bones are steel-heavy
as I walk the days with it
Pores on my skin ache
weighted by an iron-core earth
pulling me towards her
Down, she says, lay with me
My eyes can't see clear
turn skull-bound, sinking
pregnant with memory
The fibers in my muscles
weep at their loss of it
motion, forward, direction
The nuclei in my cells
pull and push against-toward
refusing to agree with you
Everyday, they keep forgetting
why I can't just dial the number
or drive 23 miles northwest
My arms know the exit-curves
(like the length of your limbs)
my feet know how many steps
(like the edge of your sheets)
I don't need my eyes to guide me
my hands, they know where
But my heart knows to stay
in my honey-thick atmosphere
Lock the windows and doors
breath it in, long breaths
circulating it, the new oxygen
Lie to my body, if need be until
I don't need to remember why
Present Affirmations
I am almost ready
to be over this
I am almost ready
to see you clear
that you were never really
good enough for me
I am almost ready
to pick up the pieces
I set aside
connect those dots
to pull the curtains open
to rip off the bed sheets
flip all the light switches
call you on your bullshit
see you small
and entirely pathetic
this lost puppy
is finding a new home
so you can keep that
old bitch who returned
I will not be laying
outside your door
I am almost ready
to tell you I'm too busy
I don't have time for
this fucked up game
and I'm tossing out
all the possible scenarios
of your apology
of your seduction
of your returning
I'm done with it
I'm almost ready
I am.
Sarah Thursday was mostly raised in Long Beach, California.  She teaches 4th and 5th grade, is obsessed with music, and has only recently dove into poetry again. She has forthcoming or has been published in Stylus Magazine, The Long Beach Union (CSULB), The Atticus Review, Eunoia Review, East Jasmine Review, Yonic South, poeticdiversity, and a project called Please Judge: Short Stories Based on the Songs of Roky Erickson. She has also made five chapbooks over the years. Recently, she has become the editor of Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets, almost by accident, but completely on purpose.