Daily Archives: December 5, 2013


“A Poem About Not Running” by Zach Fishel

The women I love the most

despise poetry like an indifferent bum

waiting for traffic to clear.

The first Christmas we spent together

was the only time I’ve played fetch

with an aging Labrador,

hot saliva on tennis balls

and the rage of our fingers

not locked but pocketed.

When I failed out of college

my professor told me one day

I’d be something

and now I’m balding

as I practice my dance lessons

just to get your laugh

drunk in a honkytonk.

If we were windows

the sky would have handprints.

Your breath must be a flower shop

where only the brave can grow.

I’ve only ever beat you

at horseshoes and drinking.

The way you would lay down

in the aisles of bookstores

just to read

made me want to start a family,

but boiling sassafras roots for tea

was the best I could do.

One day the way I’ve loved you

will dismantle like every handwritten note

your mother left about making coffee.

 

 

 

 

 

Zach Fishel is the author of Wind Sock Etiquette, set for release in April 2014. His poetry has appeared internationally and has earned two Pushcart nominations.


“Straight Kinky” by Cordelia Johnson

The flowing tresses fall past my shoulders,

I see the hues, they’re now a reddish glow.

I wondered what next to make it bolder?

Maybe color, a cut to let it show.

 

My red is bright, catches the light like glass.

The shine is divine, a fire ignites.

The snip of scissors really chaps my ass.

No one expected this big a change, right?

 

I caress corkscrews and spirals, not locks.

The mirror shows me a sassy red head.

I love my look being outside the box.

My hair’s personality is widespread.

 

Alone no more, for there are many now.

We are “the few, the proud, the” Natural crowd.

 

 

 

 

 

Cordelia Johnson is currently a senior at Francis Marion University majoring in Biology. She loves animals and nature, and has a creative streak that she releases by way of poetry, photography, and art.


“pOeTiC bEdLaM” by Cordelia Johnson

“It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.”

- Stephen Mallarme

 

Endless Wonder, a pile-up

of words, clogging the drains

stress builds, temples throb,

as anxiety sideswipes tension in the turn only lane.

 

Thoughts collide, emotions run hot,

rushing ideas careen through intersections,

synapses and neurons, flash fire whizzing past, in

the never ending race of cerebrum.

 

Tempers flare, billowing manhole eruptions.

Impatient images barge to the front line,

taxis bogaurding the boulevard,

neurotic bees of the asphalt, blocking the alleyways.

 

Green lights bring mutiny, a

discordant symphony of trumpets,

parade down the avenue,

the disjointed melody a play by play.

 

Inching past the gridlocked mass,

I spy escape, the dark twist and turns giving way to a rooftop.

The pandemonium rolls to a stop, pressure idles,

my mind relaxes, the engine cut.

 

A sweet silence moves in,

as a light mist falls my mind floats,

cocooned in a dense fog,

Peace.

 

 

 

 

Cordelia Johnson is currently a senior at Francis Marion University majoring in Biology. She loves animals and nature, and has a creative streak that she releases by way of poetry, photography, and art.