The Cleave Poetry Webzine [ISSN: 1758-9223]

Archive for September, 2009|Monthly archive page

The Concept of Pervasive Evil – by Ashley Bovan

In submission on September 24, 2009 at 12:37 pm
dissatisfaction sanctification
insatiableness spartan
saturnalian sagittarian
satyromania sacramentarian
spermatozoan sanitation
instantaneous safetyman
supernaturalness statistician
scatterbrained systematization
sabotaging establishmentarian
slaughterman samaritan
skateboarding statesmanship
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double column – Ira Lightman

In multimedia, video on September 24, 2009 at 12:21 pm

Ira Lightman has been experimenting with cleave-like poetic forms – double columning.

Here is a link to his youtube channel: Ira Lightman double column

Here is his Ebook: iralightman at ubu

Here is his website: iralightman.com

The Moviegoer by Dennis Kelly

In submission on September 20, 2009 at 10:44 pm

“There is a clock that never strikes.
There is a cathedral that goes down
and a lake that goes up.”
—Arthur Rimbaud, “Childhood,”
Illuminations

Once upon a time—I was a boy
Dead in the rosebushes—all summer
I had black eyes—and a yellow mop
Without parents—or a royal court

I was insolent—running along
Azure and verdure beaches—full of
Shipless waves—Greek, Slav, Celt
Shades in the balcony—of the Bijou

Actresses—gorgeous giantesses
Ida Lupino—up on the silver screen
Pilgrimages to—that other Land
Where princesses—were tyrannical

Sultanas—Hollywood queen bees
Strolling in the aisles—jewels glowing
In the dark—red velvet curtains in
The little theaters—like the Granada

Without boredom—those verdigris hours
Who needed a western sky—for sunsets?
With all the moviegoers—buried upright
In the balconies—overgrown with images

The curtains going up—fabulous elegance
Reels turning—sluice gates opening
The magic beasts—eternity of hot tears
The smell of popcorn—it made me blush

But now I am—the troubled scholar
Sitting in this dark armchair—brooding
Branches and rain—beating themselves
At the windows—of my quiet library

Even with Blue Ray—giant Flatscreens
I am just a pedestrian—dwarfed now in
Melancholy silence—abandoned child
On the jetty—left behind by high seas


(First published here).

Newborn by Lauren McBride

In submission on September 11, 2009 at 9:56 pm
So tired Of baby’s tears
Up late again I grow weary
Why do you cry, my little son? Are you hungry?
Are you wet? Too hot? Too cold?
Here, let Mama hold you It’s late. Please go to sleep.
He stares at me Then he coos
and sucks his thumb lays his head on my shoulder
relaxes in my arms, asleep his hair so soft against my cheek.
Good night, my little one Sweet dreams. I love you.

Lauren McBride’s work has appeared in the contest chapbook the Drabbler #14, the Aurorean, Mom Writer’s Literary Magazine, and online in various Ezines. She was chosen first runner-up in Crossed Genres’ flash fiction contest of July 2009 for her story, “Go-Green Grass”.