The Furious Gazelle

Literary as hell.

Tag: poem (page 3 of 7)

Country Boy Returns to University, a poem by Michael A. Arnold

COUNTRY BOY RETURNS TO UNIVERSITY

The night stars, I’m going to miss them

light up the dark sky, like Dante’s god.

From here, on this cold hill, it seems 

the earth is dark but heaven is bright.


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Poetry by Joe Antoshak

Panic Scenes in a Green Room

Lately my nights are gripped by research
on Christine Chubbuck’s suicide, hers the type
of public spectacle that pits a noxious smell
in the stomach, which I find to be a far-out,
wholly alien emotion responding to the difficulty
of a strange death. Freshly attuned to my own Continue reading

BODIES/BALANCE, a poem by Leah Cappelli

BODIES/BALANCE

by Leah Cappelli

 

Languishing in a state of dire straits,

he contemplates the rate of his life,

the ways of his strife,

the days and the nights.

 

An abecedarian learning to speak again

in his most recent reincarnation,

walking fine lines between monstrosity

and virtuousness.

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“The Streets Are Clogged,” a poem by Seth King

The streets are clogged

 

with heat and horns

the crash of sliding metal gates

 

sidewalk steams where it’s been hosed

 

in the paper

I search for mention of people I used to know

the sun bakes my face


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“The Journey,” a poem by Carl Boon

THE JOURNEY

by Carl Boon

 

The journey takes her past 

the faces of the women

in the village making tea.

She thinks to photograph them

to make a book, but they're so many,

and some trail children 

through valleys of flowers 

until rock, until sea, until

the world's run out of wonders. 

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“What have I eaten?” by Annie Turner

What have I eaten?

(Inspired by Sylvia Plath)

 

 

In response to my mother’s nagging question,
“What have you eaten today, Annie?”

 

What have I eaten?
Lies and smirks.
My diet calls for uncertainty,
I’ve got a hunger for what hurts.

  Breadcrumbs of grumbles,
And bits of anxieties unsung,
Tastes that sit familiar on my tongue.

           (I think I am made of dust and thirsty for your rain.)

 

All I have eaten for 13 months
Are leftover scraps of stale hope
And heaping portions of quiet patience.
My big eyes for love left unfulfilled,
My stomach full of deprivation.

 

 

***********************

Annie is a writer/poet named after her mother’s favorite book, Anne of Green Gables (so it’s spelled Anne-with-an-E!). She’s obsessed with poetry, stargazing, antiques, & animals, and she’s always on the lookout for unusual and/or beautiful words to record in her notebook, which she never leaves the house without. For more of Annie’s poetry and writing, follow her on Twitter (@Beannie129) or email her at aturn139@gmail.com.

“back alley love,” a poem by Tiffany McDaniel

back alley love

i keep the
universe
in my
knees

the ground
is hard
and
cold

this night will
never
have a
day

my mouth is
wide
and has no
name

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“The San Franciscan Group Home,” a poem by M. O. Mc

At least once a week

3 kids are thrown into the frying pan

carelessly yolked together

olive oil siphoned off

black & salt left out on purpose

the shells still have transparent film

stuck to the side of the garbage disposal    

homework crumbled like cake is there too

There is surplus salmon pink late notices

broken shards of glass

swept from the kitchen aluminum floor

overflowing for space Continue reading

“Sinister Romance,” a poem by Paige Simkins

Sinister Romance

 

We walked the downtown

Busy streets stark naked,

Holding black candles lit

High above our heads.

 

We shouted at business

Men in expensive black

Pinstriped suits, “Wear red,

You must remember, wear red!”

 

People sitting at outside

Tables of the Black Palm

Restaurant stared in disbelief,

Whispering amongst themselves,

 

When we sat down to join them.

**********

Paige Simkins is a poet who lives with her dog, Sir Simon, in Tampa, Florida. She holds a Bachelor degree in English (CRW) and a Master’s degree in Library and Information Science. She works as a Public Librarian and is very passionate about poetry, libraries, VW Beetles, and visual art. Her poems have appeared in Stepping Stones Magazine, Burningword Literary Journal, The Wayfarer, Crack the Spine and the Tulane Review.

Poetry by Gonzalinho da Costa

Reflecting on your quiet life…

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