The tingle of getting sipped
to the last drop
is not for every beverage.
Strewing one’s story
to the final straw is not for all.
Over-the-top affirmations
aren’t harpoons of hostility
but words hurled without a hitch.
If you feel good dubbing feelings
to dockets, you must do so.
I will abide by the business
of loving you.

Sanjeev Sethi has authored seven books of poetry. He has been published in over thirty countries. In December 2022, he edited Dreich Planet #1 for Hybriddreich, Scotland. In 2023, he won the First Prize in a Poetry Competition by the prestigious National Defence Academy, Pune. He lives in Mumbai, India. 

Letting you go

I wrap you in the
Sweet sad soft 
Buds of my love 
A short goodbye hug
Clumsy tender embrace 
Started too late 
Finished too soon 
I catch the dagger-bright flash 
Of your final smile 
Before I walk off 
My world darkening fast
My cracked heart dripping 
A maroon trail 
Of aborted memories 
Tracing my path 
To hollowness 

Remembrance Saturday

I lay dead, imaginary
Flowers
On the grave of your 
Memory
Slowly trace 
The stone cold letters
Of your tombstone 
With a middle finger 
That I will keep raised 
A little while longer 
Just for you 


B F Jones is French and lives in the UK. She has flash fiction and poetry in various UK and US online magazines.  Her poetry chapbook, Last Orders, and collection, Panic Attack, will both be published by Close To The Bone late 2021.

https://punknoirmagazine.wordpress.com/2021/02/28/insomnia-by-bf-jones/A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with…

Author Bio:

Amrita Valan is a writer, and a mommy to 2 teenagers. She loves observing their antics, and those of human nature and Mother nature, collecting rocks, stories and memories. Her published books are Arrivederci Fifty Poems, of love and loss, and In Between Pauses, a collection of 17 low brow vignettes/ slices of life tales.

Pandemic

 I
 Last Day of 2020 December snorts, grunts, Thirty first, the last day, Two years of global pandemic, On the streets, silent orisons Under Paget moon. Cold wind wrangles, Insides mangled Rain laden sleet Pitted trenches, Sleek oil caped roads Obsidian reptile, Lone motorbike, Headlights flicker, In hair spray rain. Pins and needles Dappled diamond paned. Quarantine broods. Quarantined moods. The heart races on Cavalletti course. Lower the bar and I shall cease to bother, Jump the threshold. Of wind-battened door. On the floor, bare Feet, glide indoors Afraid to…

Bio: M.S. Evans is a poet and photographer currently living in Butte, Montana. Her debut collection, Nights on the Line, was released by BlackBoughPoetry in 2022.

Evans’s work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including Ice Floe Press, Anti-Heroin Chic, Green Ink Poetry, and Cape Magazine.

Instagram: @seanettleink

Hi-Line Towns

We pass small towns,
far apart; worn
wood beads on a 
sparse string. 
 
Signs along tracks announce 
names,
Time to hide. Children 
spot us. I wave
 
so they’ll know,
you can leave this way,
someday. Even girls. Upturned


Fresh eviction,
personal possessions 
spill out
 
the gate; a hernia. 
 
Children’s toys form 
a burial mound
 
beside an 
upturned sofa. 
 
I mumble 
prayers of protection. 

New Jersey 1 AM, stifling heat. Wedged on a bed between my grandmother and her portable TV. My voice, thin as vase-water. Here’s, loose river rock. We hefted words smooth skipping stones. The TV made…

Bio: HilLesha O’Nan is a blogger, writer, photographer & marketer. She is co-editor/founder of Fevers of the Mind Poetry & Art. She runs the blog tothemotherhood.com for over 15 years

In the depths of your soul, you hate the man you see in the mirror. Each day, as time dwindles away, you confront a reflection that embodies everything you despise. The face staring back at you is a cruel reminder of the choices you've made and the person you've become. You live to make others' lives miserable, relishing in their pain as if it were your life force. The thrill of causing suffering fuels your existence, pushing you deeper into the darkness that engulfs your heart. You sit outside and wait, plotting your next move, seeking your next victim to harass. In your twisted mind, you've built a fence, a barricade to shield yourself from the consequences of your actions…

I’m delighted to invite poet, Zoe Brooks, over to Patricia’s Pen for the first time. Zoe has come along to chat about inspiration for Fool’s Paradise (Black Eyes Publishing UK) so without further ado, it’s over to Zoe.

Inspiration

Zoe Brooks

I have written poetry for as long as I can remember – my first published poem was in the local parish magazine when I was 8 years old. Over the years I have written about many subjects: nature features prominently and of course relationships, but there is often an awareness of the larger context – of our place in time and history, of myth, politics and spirituality.

In early 1990, only a few months after the overthrow of communism, I visited Prague with a Czech friend of mine. She had fled her country in 1968 and was returning at last. I found the visit profoundly moving…