The Skinny on Italian Lovers
In the night, Italian lovers
Affettuoso
Adagietto
Andantino
Allegretto
Affettuoso
Allegro
Allegrissimo
Accelerando
Affettuoso
Italian lovers in the night
Thomas Locicero
5/27/2017
Support this writer, support this book:
“The easy option would be… poetry from beyond the front line, words from the warzone, the art of the aftermath, a warriors words lock & load…all would be true but too easy, and they would sell this collection short; here’s the harder truth, these are honest poems that the Great War poets Wilfred Owen and Robert Brooke would recognise as truth.” – Neil S. Reddy, Miffed and Peeved in the U.K.
Matthew Borczon is a writer and Navy sailor from Erie Pa, his book A Clock of human Bones won the Yellowchair reviews chap book contest in 2015. His work has appeared in many online and print journals including: Red efts, dissident voice, dead snakes, big hammer, anti heroin chic, drunk in a midnight choir, the beatnik cowboy and others. He is married with 4 children and 3 jobs. Life keeps him very busy.
To order Ghost Train, by Matt Borczon, go to:
https://www.weaselpress.com/product-page/ghost-train
This long after the war
ghosts
still
haunt
me
ghosts
wounded
screaming
amputated
ghosts
this long after the war.
Matt Borczon
4/26/2017
Before I knew,
I didn’t know
knowing
would
show
me
knowing
comes
after
not
knowing
I didn’t know.
Catherine Zickgraf
4/18/2017
Not Yet 100 Days
Part One:
Mourning’s not the same this time.
Splintered.
Caffeined
Apoplectic
Asking
Splintered
How…
…this?
….happened?
Splintered.
Time’s not the same, this mourning.
Part Two:
Search forward the next petition, the next march, the next fight—
Hope.
You,
There
reaching
Hope!
Lined-
Soldiers
Armed.
Hope!!;
Petition the search; next, next, next the fight–the March forward!
Susan Jackson
4/16/2017
Thelonious Monk
She danced the chord Monk played for
free.
Sweet
dissonance.
Fearless,
free-
flowing
music
breathes
free.
She played the chord Monk danced for.
Bill Evans
“We will meet again,”
Bill
plays.
She
prays.
Bill
dreams.
I
believe,
Bill,
we will meet again.
Art Tatum
We invited genius for tea
this
Sunday
morning.
Across
this
piano,
hands
fly.
This
genius we invited for tea.
Le Hinton
4/5/2017
The Myth of Skinny Donald Trump
lies Donald Trump spreads like butter.
Trump dines on lies.
Lies
breakfast,
lunch,
dinner,
lies
every
tasteless
snack.
Lies,
Trump dines on lies.
This is the skinny on Donald Trump.
Lies
make
Trump
skinny.
Lies,
meaningless
skin/
bones.
Lies.
The skinny on this is Donald Trump.
Sharon Mishler Fox
3/29/2017
Because He Said
And they marched onto the capitol
anger
changing
facts
into
anger
demonstrating
knots
of
anger
and they marched onto the capitol
Michael H. Brownstein
3/21/2017
Trumpery
“something without use or value; nonsense”
The Random House College Dictionary, Unabridged, 1982
That his lips are moving means
nothing
can
come
from
nothing.
Empty
verbiage
means
nothing,
means that his lips are moving.
Susan McLean
3/5/2017
PTSD #1
In screaming nightmares
Afghanistan
haunts
me
continuously
Afghanistan
swallows
me
nightly
Afghanistan
in nightmares screaming.
Matt Borczon
3/1/2017
Donald Trump’s recent concern about the rise of anti-semitism and the shooting of Indian immigrants
is a fire alarm pulled for a building already burned to the ground–odd, especially coming from a man
whose words helped to fan the flames.
Truth Thomas
3/1/2017
So Corruptly Reminiscent
A return of the Old Guard.
Goldman
Sachs
echoes
rampant
Goldman
corridors
throughout
White
Golden.
Of the Old Guard, a return.
Heath Brougher
2/23/2017
Trump
“a suit that for the time outranks the other suits”
The Random House College Dictionary, Unabridged, 1982
What he pulls is
rank,
as
in
odorous,
rank
as
in
offensive.
Rank
is what he pulls.
Susan McLean
2/22/2017
Urban Pandemonium
Morning stampede in the city
Rushing
Aggressive
Blaring
Horns
Rushing
Corralled
Pedestrian
Herds
Rushing
City stampedes in the morning
Suzanne Cottrell
2/18/2017
Seeds
One thing I can tell you is you got to be free. – “Come Together,” The Beatles – Based on signs from the Women’s March, Jan 21, 2017, San Diego
When they tried to bury us, they didn’t realize we were seeds.
This
is
what
democracy
this
looks
like
democracy
this:
They didn’t realize we were seeds, when they tried to bury us.
*
In numbers too big to ignore,
hear
me
roar:
I,
hear
me,
am
woman,
here:
In numbers too big to ignore.
*
Si, se puede!
We
stand
for
equality.
We
the
people,
power,
we.
Yes, we can!
*
People still ask
what
was
the
victim
what
was
she
wearing
what…
people still ask.
*
Black lives
matter
seed
ash
magic
matter
bees
sand
polin
matter
Black lives
*
Revolution is love not
Trump’s
hate.
Love
is;
trumps
hate.
Our
love.
Trump’s
revolution is not love.
Janel Spencer-Levy
2/18/2017
2017
starts as a shit storm
warning
muted
orange
warning
voted
fear-monger
rage
warning
as a shit storm starts
Our Fathers,
even children can see
past
new
emperor’s
clothes
past
repeated
sins
pointed
past
even children can see
How the mighty fall
watch the dismemberment of democracy
stand
by
curious
apathy
stand
up
citizens
don’t
watch the dismemberment of democracy
Lie down
a lie repeated becomes
truth
through
elastic
lips
truth
like
concrete
corrupted
truth
becomes a lie repeated
Barbara Turney Wieland
2/9/2017
Walking by the School Yard
~in response to Betsy DeVos’s Senate confirmation
Neglect is a sin of omission
Deny
rag-
bound
books
Deny
children’s
dreams
abandoned
Deny
Omission is a sin of neglect.
Ann Bracken
2/8/2017
She even wears her pussyhat to bed
Watch
out
for
kitty
Watch
her
slay
dragons
Watch!
Even to bed she wears her pussyhat
Eliza Mimski
2/6/2017
Hijab Solidarity Day, Allentown, Pa., January 20, 2017
1.
Old and young, four abreast, with a banner
STAND
TOGETHER.
Orange
letters
stand
against
hate.
We
stand
four abreast with a banner, young and old.
2.
We are marching in the rain side by side, many
heads —
Muslim,
non-Muslim —
covered.
Heads
scarfed.
Hooded,
yarmulked
heads.
We are many, walking side by side in the rain.
3.
At the rally, all eyes, a Muslim woman on her
American
flag
scarf:
I’m
American —
hijab
doesn’t
negate
American.
A Muslim woman, all eyes on her at the rally.
Susan Weaver
2/5/2017
darkness is good, you say Bannon
between blood & cinders, darkness, way to believe
in
blanks
human
toll
in
naught
but
halo
in
between blood & cinders, darkness, way to believe
***
sobering up our lives
life more subtle than life could have been deemed
this
bone
to
ballast
this
night
between
lines
this
life more subtle than life could have been deemed
Debasis Mukhopadhyay
2/3/2017
rivers to run
white lyrics spilling out, rivers to run
heads
crowing
old
swastika
heads
scraping
cleansing
bludgeoning
heads
spilling out white rivers, lyrics to run
***
Wall
nothing hangs on the Wall
each
drop
of
skulls
each
drop
of
history
each
wall hangs on the Nothing
Subject: Washington, D.C. Pre-March musings
Still, bereft; fierce, but–
Awakened.
Storied
Hovering
Shout!
Awakened.
Tears.
March!
Hands.
Awakened,
Bereft, still; but fierce.
Susan Jackson
1/22/2017
The Women’s March
Am I marching – gather signs, muscle
pushing
knees
shudder
protest
pushing
rubble
remains
ahead
pushing
Gather marching signs – I am muscle
Louise White
1/20/2017
Crossing Constitution toward Independence, January 21, 2017
Standing together at the intersection, ready for the light to change
knitted
rainbow
pink
pussyhats
knitted
blood-red
bitch
nastycats
knitted
together at the intersection to the light. Ready. Standing for change.
Angela H. Dale
1/18/2017
The Skinny Poetry Journal
https://theskinnypoetryjournal.wordpress.com/
TSPJ is a literary journal that is dedicated to The Skinny poetry form (and edited by a rotating team of poets). A Skinny is a short poem form, created by Truth Thomas, that consists of eleven lines. The first and eleventh lines can be any length (although shorter lines are favored). The eleventh and last line must be repeated using the same words from the first and opening line (however, those words can be rearranged). The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical.
The point of the Skinny, or Skinnys, is to convey a vivid image with as few words as possible. Skinny poems can be about any subject. They can also be linked, like Haiku, Senryu or Tanka. To submit your work for publishing consideration, email it to: theskinnypoetryjournal@gmail.com with your poem, or poems, copied into the body of your email.
Coming Home in Black America
Every minute he is late, she fears
someone
seeing
only
skin
someone
coiled
venomous
armed
someone
she fears every minute. He is late
Dotty Holcomb Doherty
1/14/2017
Wonder Woman Attends the Inauguration
She sets her hair free spinning five times
Cuffs
cross
ricochets
Pence
Cuffs
Trump
lassos
and
Cuffs
Spinning five times, she sets her hair free
Nancy Iannucci
1/9/2017
Progressive people from all over the country will be descending on Washington, D.C. on January 20, 2017, to stage a massive demonstration along Pennsylvania Avenue on Inauguration Day.
Turning Sixteen
Mother said, He’s not your father
abandoned
broken
bloodline
drugs
abandoned
nameless
numbness
relief
abandoned
He’s not your father, Mother said.
Kara J. Valore
1/4/2017
Obsession
where you live in my mind
voices
jump
off
walls
voices
crawl
along
baseboards
voices
in my mind where you live
Laurie Kolp
12/31/2016
Haiti
January twelfth two thousand and ten
nameless
crushed
island
salvation
nameless
invaders
proselytizers
slaughter
nameless
two ten and twelfth thousand January.
Matthew Harris
12/3/2016
(Thony Belizaire/AFP/Getty Images)
On My Own
My own auntie voted to build a wall
against
my
husband’s
religion,
against
our
very
husbandhood,
against
my own. Auntie voted to build a wall.
James Penha
11/19/2016
Red State: Blue Heart
A blue heart: Red state, I confess to
resisting
white
colorblind
microagressions
resisting
cisgender
straight
privilege
resisting
Red state: I confess to a blue heart
Karen Bovenmyer
11/17/2016
Red State/State of Red
My neighbor was shot on her lawn, getting mail.
Near
handprints
on
sidewalk.
Near
her
lungs,
heart.
Near.
On her lawn, my neighbor was shot, getting mail.
Ron Riekki
11/16/2016
Orange is the New White
Beneath the orange facade, you can see the
Whiteness
of
his
bitterness.
Whiteness
swastikaring
our
Otherness.
Whiteness
beneath the orange. You can see the facade.
Jeffrey Lamar Coleman
11/17/2016
The Skinny Poetry Journal (TSPJ) seeks new poetry. Poems submitted can embrace any theme, however, we are particularly interested in submissions that paint a picture of racism in America–the unresolved legacy of slavery–in the interest of healing our nation of that cancerous social affliction.
TSPJ is a literary journal that is dedicated to The Skinny poetry form (and edited by a rotating team of poets). A Skinny is a short poem form, created by Truth Thomas, that consists of eleven lines. The first and eleventh lines can be any length (although shorter lines are favored). The eleventh and last line must be repeated using the same words from the first and opening line (however, those words can be rearranged). The second, sixth, and tenth lines must be identical.
The point of the Skinny, or Skinnys, is to convey a vivid image with as few words as possible. Skinny poems can be about any subject. They can also be linked, like Haiku, Senryu or Tanka. To submit your work for publishing consideration, email it to: theskinnypoetryjournal@gmail.com with your poem, or poems, copied into the body of your email.
NOTE: TSPJ is now opening up our journal to advertising. To learn more about our rates, feel free to email us at tspjads@gmail.com
How to Build a Fire
Find a church to hate.
Use
hymnals
as
kindling.
Use
pews
as
fuel.
Use
hate to find a church.
Le Hinton
11/16/2016
Sistah
Voted D not because I am a woman
Not
poor
Not
gay
Not
undocumented
privileged
white
Not
Voted D not because I am a woman
Lisa Carlson
11/14/2018
The Lens
the lens changes everything
black
fierce
feminist
focus
black
poor
people
plight
black
everything changes the lens
Sybil Ponnambalam
11/15/2106
A Song for Autumn
The cold came in from under the door
Rain
Months.
Green.
Television
Rain.
Haircut,
October
Fingertips,
Rain.
The cold came in from under the door
Rae Dox Kim
11/6/2016
chromatics
i.
there is no more specific life
skin
god
purpose
beaten
skin
strange
bodies
own
skin
there is no more life specific
ii.
us apart from our bodies
action
house
gun
fear
action
skeletons
unspokens
bloodlines
action
our bodies apart from us
iii.
a pile of unspokens not reached
burnt
trees
crowing
racial
burnt
moths
flaring
melodies
burnt
piles of unspokens not reached
Curtis L. Crisler
11/13/2016
Elegy
fear, hold us—
dark
bodies
falling,
rising.
dark
genesis,
endless,
ghostlit.
dark
fear, hold us.
Warner Robinson
11/13/2016
Nella Larsen’s Quicksand
They call me Helga Crane
Quicksand
Sinking
Down
Black
Quicksand
White
Up
Rising
Quicksand
They call me Helga Crane
***
William Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom
They call me Thomas Sutpen
Absalom
Twenty
Generations
Of
Absalom
White
Blood
Lost
Absalom
They call me Thomas Sutpen
Robert Thomas Atwood
11/13/2016
