Tag: National Poetry Month 2019

Poets Read: Oonah V Joslin

We are pleased to offer our Poets Read series in honor of National Poetry Month 2019 and will run it throughout the month of April. 

Every day in April, our website and our YouTube channel will feature the voice of a poet whose work has appeared in our pages over the past year. On Sundays, we will offer two poets for your enjoyment. 

Today’s poem is Brooch Belonging To by Oonah V Joslin and it appeared in the Summer 2018 issue of Gyroscope Review.

Brooch Belonging To
by Oonah V Joslin


I seldom 
wear you out. I’m afraid
of losing you. 
So afraid of losing.

No pin is so secure I can be 
absolutely sure. 

It’s happened before. 
Something precious
forever lost.

It’s not the cost 
that makes a coward of me.
It’s the thought
that all through ages yet to come
a day, a week, a century from now
you will belong to someone else and

I can never 
wear you
out.

In the end it’s you who will lose me. 
You who can feel no fond memory 
or retain even the engraving of my name;
will endure beyond,
while every sorrow past or future
becomes cold-etched in me
in synapse first and then 
in bone.

About the Poet: Oonah V Joslin is poetry editor at The Linnet’s Wings. Her poetry chapbook, Three Pounds of Cells, is available on Amazon and Amazon UK.

Share

Poets Read: Ogwigi Ehi-kowochio Blessing

We are pleased to offer our Poets Read series in honor of National Poetry Month 2019 and will run it throughout the month of April. 

Every day in April, our website and our YouTube channel will feature the voice of a poet whose work has appeared in our pages over the past year. On Sundays, we will offer two poets for your enjoyment. 

Today’s poem is Tell Papa by Ogwigi Ehi-kowochio Blessing and it appeared in the Spring 2018 issue of Gyroscope Review.

Tell Papa
by Ogwiji Ehi-kowochio Blessing


Ujunwa, have they told papa that,
I am a story wrapped in a parcel,
Held in place by a colourful ribbon of tears?

Did papa believe them when they told him
That I am the ashes of burnt dreams,
Waiting to be whisked away by wandering winds,
From the fireplace of broken ambitions?

I know. Uju, I know that I am the shadow
Of a lost wonder, tiptoeing through
The thick forests of fears,
Without a map to guide me home.
But I hope this secret has not leaked from
The lips of the gossiping evening wind-
That sits by the window of papa's thoughts,
Idling until the break of an unbroken day.

Uju, regardless of what they’ve told papa,
Tell him that I am the wandering smile
He seeks in the wilderness of frowns;
Tell papa that I am that 'female son' who
Will put an end to the repulsive mockery
Which trails men who have but daughters!







Author’s Note: Ujunwa, Uju for short is my fictitious sister.
In reality, I am a daughter to a man who has five other daughters.
Ogwiji Ehi-kowochio Blessing

About the Poet: Ogwiji Ehi-kowochio Blessing is from Nigeria in Africa where she was born and raised by her parents. She is a final year student of Agriculture at the University of Ibadan where she writes articles and poems for the local press. Ogwiji is the winner of the 2017 Albert Jungers poetry Prize, among other writing awards. She blogs at www.eboquills.com.ng and her Facebook page is /ogwiji.ehi .

Share

Poets Read: Babo Kamel and Leslie Smith Townsend

We are pleased to offer our Poets Read series in honor of National Poetry Month 2019 and will run it throughout the month of April. 

Every day in April, our website and our YouTube channel will feature the voice of a poet whose work has appeared in our pages over the past year. On Sundays, we will offer two poets for your enjoyment. 

Today’s poems are She writes his name by Babo Kamel, which appeared in the Summer 2018 issue of Gyroscope Review, and Till the Fat Lady Sings by Leslie Smith Townsend, which appeared in the Fall 2018 issue of Gyroscope Review.

She writes his name 
by Babo Kamel


the handsome, entitled teenage boy
mean as a blister, right smack
in the middle of a poem.
Both first and last, ensures no
confusion. Poetic justice?
Nothing slant about it. Just there
naked on the page.

I knew a boy like him
wild in high school, all sex and smirk
whom I half wanted, because although
he seemed hard, his mouth was beautiful
and though he seemed totally into
himself, he was smart. Did I say his mouth
was beautiful? 

Trilingual, his lips would flirt words
Think blueberry, bluet, or myrtilós
such sounds of seduction, right there
in the classroom. Oh, what secrets
the tongue held in the cave of a mouth
what longings resided between the teeth.
How deeply we hid our crushes
blushing through our teens. 

Now imagine you’re 15 again. You don’t want to
but you do. You should worry about a pimple
on your chin or plan your monologue
for drama auditions. Instead you wonder how 
to explain for the rest of your life, the scars
on your arm, that no matter how many times
you cut the name of a shot boy into your skin
he’s not coming back.

Till the Fat Lady Sings
by Leslie Smith Townsend


You might learn something yet,
you, my almighty daughter
and you, my omniscient son.

I haven’t emptied myself 
to fashion a future not my own—
a dried out yellow husk,

a dead or dying cicada.
I live, breathe, create, 
climb—Watch me!

Won’t you be surprised 
when you look to the summit 
of mountain, sky, and stars to see

this woman you call, Mother.
Cock your head up, not down;
She’s not in the ground, life over;

She’s flying—
blowing you kisses from mid-air.

About the Poets:

Babo Kamel

Originally from Montreal, Canada, Babo Kamel’s poems have appeared in literary reviews in the US, Australia, and Canada. Some of these include Painted Bride Quarterly, Abyss & Apex, The Greensboro Review, Cleaver, The Grolier Poetry Prize, Contemporary Verse 2, Rust +Moth, Mobius, a Journal of Social Change, and 2River Review. She was a winner of The Charlotte Newberger Poetry Prize and is a five-time Pushcart nominee, and a Best of the Net nominee. Her chapbook, After, is published with Finishing Line Press. Find her at: babokamel.com 

Leslie Smith Townsend

Leslie Smith Townsend is a poet, essayist, and memoirist whose work has been published inLEO, Journeys, The Louisville Review, Courier-Journal, Arable, Literary Mama, Christian Science Monitor,Friends Journal, Gyroscope Review, Metafore,and in the anthologies,Voices of AlcoholismandShow Me All Your Scars. She is a graduate of Spalding University’s MFA in writing program. In addition, she has a Ph.D. in the psychology of religion. She is the recipient of the Betty Gabehart prize in creative nonfiction, a grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women, a fellowship from the Vermont Studio Center, and a post-graduate fellowship from Spalding University’s MFA in Writing.

Share

Poets Read: Deborah L. Davitt

We are pleased to offer our Poets Read series in honor of National Poetry Month 2019 and will run it throughout the month of April. 

Every day in April, our website and our YouTube channel will feature the voice of a poet whose work has appeared in our pages over the past year. On Sundays, we will offer two poets for your enjoyment. 

Today’s poem is Hitogata by Deborah L. Davitt and it appeared in the Summer 2018 issue of Gyroscope Review.

Hitogata
by Deborah L. Davitt


The world needs scapegoats and sin-eaters;
through which we might cast
our culpability into a doll,
a piece of bread, a slice of godly flesh,

washing them away in running water, 
through which no evil spirit can pass,
or watch our sins slide,
sleekly buttered like a crumpet
past someone’s kindly lips,

erased and absolved,
taken on someone else’s shoulders—
oh, if only if guilt could be absolved
instead of perpetuated endlessly
in an endless cacophony online.

I swallowed my opinions,
buried them deep in my own gullet
where no one could hear my
confession and condemn me—
made my own flesh
my hitogata,

until I opened my eyes one night
to find myself surrounded
by a swarm of paper dolls
all wearing my face, 
shuffling shiff-shiff, each to each,
as each flattened body slithered
under the door 
to seek new homes.

I should have drowned them first.

Deborah L. Davitt

About the Poet: Deborah L. Davitt was raised in Reno, Nevada, but received her MA in English from Penn State. She currently lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and son. Her poetry has received Rhysling and Pushcart nominations and appeared in over twenty journals; her short fiction has appeared in InterGalactic Medicine Show, Compelling Science Fiction, Grievous Angel, and The Fantasist. For more about her work, please see www.edda-earth.com

Share
Visit Us On FacebookVisit Us On Twitter