GUEST POST // The girl who vomited diamonds by Nath B-Side

Nobody saw how special she was
Nobody valued her qualities
Nobody realised her strengths,
Nobody comprehend her speech.

Some people think she was too old to be young.
Some people was sure of that.

Some people wanted to take off her peace.
But peace was her second name.
It was her. Herself.

She wasn’t more special than anybody. She was just different.
Life made her this way
and
she didn’t know how to be like the others.

While she was walking, thinking, reading …
people …. People was living.
Leaving her alone because they couldn’t understand her.

She was not the best company to celebrate because she wasn’t the happier.
She was a desired company in bed but she prefered to be bad.

While people was having a hangover… She was sleeping and
dreaming
dreaming she was vomiting diamonds.

 

by Nath B-Side
© All rights reserved 2020

GUEST POST // all the trappings of winter by Robert Greig

I’ve tried
to write a poem
for the solstice
this winter come,
for the shortest day;

the beginning of the end…

I failed
to find a start
carve a middle
coup de grâce
weave a wordy way;

the beginning
of the end…

I set my traps
the night before
made all the best laid plans
I chose the bait
and lay in wait
and all seemed well in hand;

the beginning of
the end…

patience
that’s the key
so it seemed
but easy said
is rarely easy done;

the beginning
of
the end…

as light became
less light
my eyes
shuttered wide
to closed
and into sleep
I dribbled deep
from yawn to drowse
to doze;

the beginning of the end
came when I awoke
and found
nothing much to find
but pins and needles
muscle cramp
a spider hanging
from my hat
but not a rhythm
not a rhyme
nor any useful line,
nothing fine
that could be used
to light a fuse
or bold enthuse
to glean a verse
to break this curse,
not epic,
blank,
not villanelle,
not idyll,
even terse.

[sigh]

I’ve tried
to write a poem
but despite
my best attempts
I wrote
a shopping list instead:
coffee
tea
turnips
tomatoes
crackers
crisps
and cheese.

 

by ROBERT GREIG
© All rights reserved 2018

barefoot rendezvous

i kiss the road with my bare feet
the ground’s womb heat my sole to keep
i am the lover, it the bed sheet
i imprint upon reality’s sleep

i make love in gentle dust
with intuition, shuffle and brush
a happenstance witness, stray wind’s gust
it scarpers in a flustered rush

 

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2018