Nathan the Adventurer by Terry Chipp
I need a private world by Marcel Herms
When the wheels spin, I spin,
leaf, feather, world, it all spins
to the rhythm of my turning pedals.
flecked with birds swooping,
unknown voices drift
in and out of my ear,
clear as blue, limpid.
Then they bark,
the parents at the end of the garden,
peering over the gate,
straining with narrow eyes.
They bark about safety
and horrors at the end of the lane,
drawing in my chain.
I strain, push pedals
but the spinning fails;
they reel me in with their
mastiff authority, heavy jowled—
I wish I could fly.
:: tick eater ::
some are wizards
some come predicted
while in bristol working
she asked the relationship because he liked
stuff of mine
on reflection see that she noted these things a lot
others would not have noticed
then a decision was made
by one party agreement by the other
frying potatoes for tea
skins gone crispy
clean cooker top
while others draw out
Scenes from a Lockdown
Counting these days of windows,
paned glass and pixilated screens.
The world is virtual and removed,
yet paradoxically intimate. I view
living rooms and offices of strangers,
bookshelves and artwork, occasionally
eclipsed by child or dog. Everything
in a box, neatly organized, limited
by necessity, easily digestible,
dismissed with the flip of a switch.
I used to be like Greta Garbo, craving
time to be alone, wishing away sirens,
chaos and crowds. Now the quiet
is alarming: solitary days, nights
with one human I may touch. We are
more than snapshots trapped in frames.
I miss optimistic days of concerts
on balconies, the 7 p.m. banging of pots
and pans in praise of those who stand
between us and the virus. I long for
pre-plague hugs, but settle for zoomed
house parties with friends. Hope
is a table set and waiting for tomorrow’s
dinner guests to arrive.
— Gayle J. Greenlea
I need Nathan
let this be done:
no more constraint;
Shadow fills our angles
we are reduced within,
a sphere of fish scales,
to illuminate day
smolder in our words,
all day long we whisper
to the whetstone,
slurry of water
sliding along with each stroke,
how easily sunlight
lays itself amongst the verdure,
when you unlock the sash
of my heart, what the window
a long shore of mangrove and sand
a wind of salt
rolling across waves.
Unchock the wheel
fill the flask with fire
step out to the river,
you may think you know
the name of this sinuous beast,
let me tell you
upriver the flow leaps out of stone,
too cold to touch, downriver
past sandbars of basking alligators,
snags of driftwood from run out,
down, down to the sea,
you may think you know
the names ,having never traveled,
come again tomorrow,
we’ll talk of mountains
“A WORD IN YOUR SHELL–LIKE“
“Pssst, listen; a word to the wise
You live in a dangerous place
full of anger and toxicity.
Eat those who live below.
Flee from those
who live above.
But sometimes those
from above, look like
those from below.
Also we have language.
It has a different meaning
to all that speak it.
And to all that listen.
Then the liars come
out of their shadows.
Some also believe,
in what it is
We are also pray to urges
from our ancient lizard brain,
that drive all reason away.
Listen governor; a word to the wise
Best you leave now,
before its too late”
-© Dai Fry 20th November 2020
(Nathan the Adventurer)
“To Pass the Time”
Arms rested on bar I won’t be here long
So pull up a stool and listen very hard
You’ll need a strong drink for some of these tales
Coz Nathan, that’s me, he’s seen some things
Zeppelins on fire and ships on the shore
Gold bullions plenty but I won’t tell ye where
Protests mass unrest, the best of the best
Landscape of snow inside fortress of ice
Carriages luxurious then economy class
Sunbursts on fjords, wild boars, and lax
Buy the next round and I’ll share some more
(I need a Private World)
We needed space with time to think
Moved into a house with dividers and doors
Converted a closet into a magic room
Filled it with water, diving board led to
Reflecting tiles providing answers searched for, clarity prevailed
Sauna done with, session dried out, walls grew shelves – you guessed it –
Books slotted into place, the door held open with one hand, towel with the other,
The sign on the door reads “Next Customer please”
Dreams were shattered by battering ram
We let it in and locked the door; hope it’s happy
In there hulking and sulking
We needed space with time to think
Moved into a house with open plan, lots of air
Found we had outgrown the magic room
I need a private world
Our private worlds have become TV
studios where we can see
others and they us in natural
habitat, imagined or real,
in offices, bedrooms, basements, closets,
with incursions of dogs, cats, children,
books on our shelves, art on our walls,
food in our kitchens, leaf blowers.
When the screen is off we cling
to those in our bubble, no escaping,
alone together. Bouquet of souls.
-Holly York 2020
She can’t reach me—
so many tall buildings surround her
The gap between us,
In dreams, I see a woman,
her body fossilized
Elephants lumber and leap, spiral onto walls,
bring the forests in, its wild sounds
and sighs. Fluorescence. Hungry squares.
She makes birds for trees.
She dreams of places where sitting is allowed.
Birds with forgotten flight
weave her in,
tie knots over her face
with their beaks.
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