Macedonian Balcony by Terry Chipp
Domoren en dromers by Marcel Herms
In my omnipotence
I see the oceans
Life hurries on, abundant
under that icy crust.
In my dreams,
I know why they swim.
It is enough for me.
© Dai Fry 16th November 2020.
When skin was contraband
Music filled our days, replacing the soundlessness
of other people’s absence. Sometimes the doors leading
to a balcony would be half open and I’d peek a glimpse
of slick arms or thickening hands, calluses of elbow or knee,
the freedom of toes, curlicue of veins, a marbled thigh.
To see such familiar strangeness brought relief
like piano notes rising in a piazza on some sunny afternoon.
Unable to give up their attachment to derma, some wandered
to dangerous places, were shot down. Others closed their doors
to bar temptation as if temptation was pawing at glass,
looking in with pool-ish eyes. And of course there were those
that went mad with longing, meandered through streets
at night, yowling, leaped at glass windows and shattered.
In the morning, a man would pick up the pieces and weep.
Deniers and Dreamers
Ignorance is a pathogen looking for a host.
Consuming fear, it’s circled the world twice
infecting those with pre-existing conditions
like bigotry and selfishness until whole
countries are aflame with a dangerous
pandemic of violence against the merciful
who wear masks to stop the spread.
Wash your hands of the deniers who cry
‘Hoax!’, who bully shop keepers and stand on
street corners screaming maskless about
their right to make us sick. Stay at home,
keep your distance, and if you must,
march beside the justicemakers who protect
Black Lives and those in White Coats who
dream of a cure.
– Gayle J. Greenlea
it’s not safe out there, the parents say, too high, the ironwork too open, the façade is crumbling. Don’t go out, they say to the twins, who peer with thin white faces out through the window that is never cleaned, across the street where the reproachful windows glitter, the ones that saw. Don’t go out, like your brother did, climbed the fancy ironwork and fell. Don’t go out, but they leave the window open, as if to tempt them, the little girls who are left, the ones they would have offered in his place
dreaming is drifting
on the dark waves
In response to Terry Chipp’s Macedonian balcony:
After Gustave Caillebotte
Inside, men glide planes across
the parquet. Scrolled iron railing filters
light through glass. Shaved curls of wood
rise like swells on a sun-spattered sea.
Their shirtless torsos inclined at task
as if in a ballerina’s révérence,
men ask each other if it’s time
for the lunch and bottle of wine
that wait beside the wainscoted wall.
Soon the floor will be stripped clean.
It will be finished, balcony doors
left ajar for breath and drying varnish.
-Holly York 2020
:: limited spaces ::
what do we know of apartment
blocks with balconies
no where to play
sit quietly with the monkey
or whatever toy to sustain
what do we know of merging paint
that frequents our mind
there was a gap in the railings where things fell through
we sat and watched it all
Lip of a room, mouth
of habitation opening
to a sky without ornament,
he would appear there
careful not to lean
on the railing,
what opens also closes,
looking up from the street
she felt the weight
of his expectation
as if, without a word,
she would ascend
to his door and all
that lay beyond
draperies of word,
the small coffees
of his delight.
Fox in thicket
hawk in oak, rabbit
knows these and coyote
as well, the language
of habitation is larded
with easy meals, with thatch
of palmetto and mosquito net
we resist your domestication,
here in the smoke, salt wind
off the marsh, we exist
in the margin of what you have not
yet consumed, we are coyote
to your dog, standing on four legs
roaming by night, hand shy
moon singing in the pale light
under palm and pine.
not curves, nor flesh
behind these gates
“Encounter of an Architectural Kind“
You caught my eye as I innocently walked the opposite side of the street. I’ll never know if your allure was deliberate. I suspect that it was. No need for your fancy details and smart trims; not unless you’d figured out my routine. Positioned yourself on the right side of the building. Aligned your railings in a way that made the most beautiful patterns of light and shadow on the road at the right time of day. Was the sun in on your scheme? It’s been some time but I haven’t yet remembered my original plan or where it’s location was to be. I suppose someone will take over all of my important affairs. With you is where I need to be.
(Demoren en Dromers)
I don’t like what’s coming round the bend this time.
I want to turn back.
It’s proving difficult.
It was just around here somewhere…
(Motions to a blurry spot swiftly receding)
Where the colours were all bright and I walked hand in hand with my friends and family.
They’re all gone now like missing cells in a roll of film.
Evil greedy cutting room floor.
Give them back.
Don’t replace them with the monster under the bed.
Adamant my circumstances have to change?
Fine. If I can’t have a nice day (dream) I’ll tear myself up.
Send myself Flat Stanley style far away from wherever you are.
I’ll bounce from post to post if necessary.
Eventually I’ll find my way awake from the nightmare you
Bios and Links
grew up in Thurnscoe and ia now living in Doncaster via Wath Grammar school, Doncaster Art College, Bede College in Durham and 30 years teaching.
He sold his first painting at the Goldthorpe Welfare Hall annual exhibition at the age of 17 and he haven’t stopped painting since.
He escaped the classroom 20 years ago to devote more time to his artwork. Since then he has set up his own studio in Doncaster, exhibited across the north of England as a member of the Leeds Fine Artists group and had his painting demonstrations featured on the SAA’s Painting and drawing TV channel. Further afield he has accepted invitations to work with international artists’ groups in Spain, Macedonia, Montenegro and USA where his paintings are held in public and private collections. In 2018 he had a solo exhibition in Warsaw, Poland and a joint exhibition in Germany.
His pictures cover a wide range of styles and subjects from abstract to photo-realism though he frequently returns to his main loves of landscape and people.
Visitors are welcome at his studio in the old Art College on Church View, Doncaster.
Facebook: Terry Chipp Fine Art Painting
is a Dutch visual artist. He is also one of the two men behind the publishing house Petrichor. Freedom is very important in the visual work of Marcel Herms. In his paintings he can express who he really is in complete freedom. Without the social barriers of everyday life.
There is a strong relationship with music. Like music, Herms’ art is about autonomy, freedom, passion, color and rhythm. You can hear the rhythm of the colors, the rhythm of the brushstrokes, the raging cry of the pencil, the subtle melody of a collage. The figures in his paintings rotate around you in shock, they are heavily abstracted, making it unclear what they are doing. Sometimes they look like people, monsters, children or animals, or something in between. Sometimes they disappear to be replaced immediately or to take on a different guise. The paintings invite the viewer to join this journey. Free-spirited.
He collaborates with many different authors, poets, visual artists and audio artists from around the world and his work is published by many different publishers.
writes novels, short stories and lots of poems. Among her publications is her first chapbook of poetry, thicker than water. She is also a regular contributor to Visual Verse and the Ekphrastic Review. You can find her on twitter @MJDougherty33 and on her blog https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/
is a queer poet from Tampa, Florida. Infatuated with what remains of the undeveloped Gulf coast. Former cook. Has had poems in Cypress Press, Feral Poetry, IceFloe Press, Petrichor. Can be found on Twitter@Peach Delphine
is a poet living on the south coast of England. Originally from Swansea. Wales was and still is a huge influence on everything. My pen is my brush. Twitter:
Susan Darlington’s poetry regularly explores the female experience through nature-based symbolism and stories of transformation. It has been published in Fragmented Voices, Algebra Of Owls, Dreams Walking, and Anti-Heroin Chic among others. Her debut collection, ‘Under The Devil’s Moon’, was published by Penniless Press Publications (2015). Follow her @S_sanDarlington
lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her two large, frightening lapdogs. A PhD in French language and literature, she has retired from teaching French to university students, as well as from fierce competition in martial arts and distance running. She has produced the chapbooks Backwards Through the Rekroy Wen, Scapes, and Postcard Poetry 2020. When she isn’t hard at work writing poems in English, she might be found reading them in French to her long-suffering grandchildren, who don’t yet speak French.
-Gayle J. Greenlea
is an award-winning poet and counselor for survivors of sexual and gender-related violence. Her poem, “Wonderland”, received the Australian Poetry Prod Award in 2011. She shortlisted and longlisted for the Fish Poetry Prize in 2013, and debuted her first novel Zero Gravity at the KGB Literary Bar in Manhattan in 2016. Her work has been published in St. Julian Press, Rebelle Society, A Time to Speak, Astronomy Magazine, Headline Poetry and Press and The Australian Health Review.
lives in the North East of Scotland. Her first poetry collection ‘ Tree standing small’ was published in 2018 with Clochoderick Press. Her work has appeared in journals and magazines in print and online and she is working towards a second collection.
Like someone who tries out hats or other samples before making a final decision, experimenting with different ideas and techniques is how Lydia spends some of her time. This allows for other portions of time to speak through the lens of fiction, creative nonfiction and art. You can find her work at Cargo Collective , Lydia Wist Creative and on Twitter @Lydiawist.
lives in the wild, wet, south-west of England, surrounded by mud and apple trees. She writes poems to make sense of the world, and would rather weed than wash up.
-sonja benskin mesher
holds a bachelor in English Literature and Creative Writing and is a secondary school teacher of English and Creative Writing. Liam is currently writing his first, professional collection of poetry entitled Borders that explores poetry from all around the world. Liam also Co-Hosts a movie discussion podcast entitled: The Pick and Mix Podcast. Liam writes under the pseudonym ‘Michael The Poet’
Links: WordPress: https://michael-the-poet.com/
Instagram: Michael The Poet
is 54, married and a mother of two, who has been writing and telling stories since childhood. Over the last decade she has utilised writing not just as entertainment, but as a means to improve personal communication skills. That process unexpectedly uncovered increasingly difficult and unpleasant feelings, many forgotten for decades. Diagnosed as a historic trauma survivor in May 2019, Mental health issues had previously hindered the entirety of her adult life: the shift into writing as expression and part of a larger journey into self-awareness began to slowly unwind for her from the past, providing inspiration and focus for a late career change as a multidisciplined artist.
is a Northern Irish poet from Belfast. She has two poetry pamphlets, and a full collection, from Hedgehog Poetry Press, they are Circling the Sun, Memory Forest and Venus in pink marble (2018, 2019 and Summer 2020 respectively). She is co-author, along with Karen Mooney, of Penned In a poetry pamphlet written in response to the pandemic and due for release 30th November 2020. Follow her on Twitter @gaynorkane or read more at www.gaynorkane.com.
is the author of Walk Like Monsters (Paperwall, 2016) and City of Water (Sahitya Akademi, 2010). Her work has appeared in anthologies and journals such as Plume, 580 Split, One and Breakwater Review. She is Contributing Editor, Poetry, at Barren Magazine. She has received fellowships and awards from the Charles Wallace Trust India, the International Reporting Project, TFA India and Muse India. She currently lives in Los Angeles, California. Her website is http://aninditasengupta.com