Persuasion —a poem by Pikthall

the triumph of the desert
is geometric —
dictated by event
circumscribed
by geology —
self-liquidation on a hill
in the valley


_
Pikthall is a writer and the Editor of Imperative Papers. 

Sacred Geometry —a poem by Pikthall

yourn eyes have seen the glory
of the coming of the lamb
war lines gorged in land
a corpse on a hillside
channeling the
universe

_

Pikthall is a writer and the Editor of Imperative Papers. 

The Poetry of Disaster —a poem by Afrose Fatima Ahmed

there is a rhythm
in the everyday erosions
of an unfixed world

a melody flowing
through the undamned waters
as they overwhelm levees

a haunting magic
in the black lines
of second growth undergrowth
beginning again
on the blank page
of a clear cut

_
* "The Poetry o Disaster" was commissioned by the Editor in early 2017.

Afrose Fatima Ahmed is a hybrid Texan-Washingtonian who writes on city streets and at the tops of evergreens. she holds an M.A. in Asian Studies from the University of Texas and is a VONA alumna. She released her first poetry chapbook, he won’t dance with me, in December 2013. afrosefatimaahmed.com

On Intellectuals —a poem by Pikthall

Comforted only by the promise of
Successive approximations

A curious detail weaponized
And woven into the background

Jackals wallowing in
Other people's blood

_

Pikthall is a writer and the Editor of Imperative Papers. 

Insensitivity —a poem by Dennis Paul Wilken

Everything that matters
In love if you love
Women
Eventually becomes
Subjective
Feelings conquer
All but security
And even feelings can
Be made to serve as
A way
Of making passions ebb
While bringing other
Less powerful emotions
To the fore
All but guaranteeing
The more rational
You are, the more
One day you will suffer
And the women
Will feel such pain
Is in your case
Justice


_

Dennis Paul Wilken is a prolific poet, sketch-artist, veteran journalist and Senior Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He studied at the University of Cincinnati and is a former Staff Writer for Cincinnati Magazine. His poem "Outcomes" was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2011. His first chapbook is called Sweat Off the Diamond (2009). His recent chapbook Poetry Factory (2017) is forthcoming from Imperative Papers.

Ourselves —a poem by Dennis Paul Wilken

We can outsmart ourselves
By building an answer
To every question
Before they are asked
Giving ourselves a bit
Of status
On our way out
Of facing some
Unpleasant truth
We'd be better off
Looking in the eye.

_

Dennis Paul Wilken is a prolific poet, sketch-artist, veteran journalist and Senior Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He studied at the University of Cincinnati and is a former Staff Writer for Cincinnati Magazine. His poem "Outcomes" was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2011. His first chapbook is called Sweat Off the Diamond (2009). His recent chapbook Poetry Factory (2017) is forthcoming from Imperative Papers.

Life Takes —a poem by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Life takes a toke of us,
a puff here and there,
until we turn to ash.
Life turns us into
silence and oblivion.
All we learned in school
will be forgotten.
All our memories will
be lost to Dementia.
Life will open the door
and then close it shut.
Life will lock you in.
The key will be thrown
away. Life will smile at
you and not say goodbye.

_

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. His poems in English and Spanish have appeared in many online and print journals. His first book of poetry, Raw Materials (2004) was published by Pygmy Forest Press.  His latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine (2016) was published by Kendra Steiner Editions. Luis was born in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico, works in the mental health field and lives in Los Angeles CA.

Broken Promises —a poem by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

The broken promises
are on display every day.
I don't know how they can
sleep or like themselves at all.
This reality show needs to
end. Still it goes on.
I watch the train wreck and
do not change the channel.
I watch the show for days.
I wonder if I am dead.
These people can't be real.
They all need to go away.
I don't know how people
can think like them.
They must all be broken
inside. The broken promises
do not die. They go on and on.

_

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. His poems in English and Spanish have appeared in many online and print journals. His first book of poetry, Raw Materials (2004) was published by Pygmy Forest Press.  His latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine (2016) was published by Kendra Steiner Editions. Luis was born in Cuernavaca, Morelos, Mexico, works in the mental health field and lives in Los Angeles CA.

A Different View —a poem by Dennis Paul Wilken

It's amazing when
You think of it,
You're going
In the ground
Like a tulip bulb
But you won't be
Coming up in the spring;
That one fact
Makes almost anything
You say, think or do
Suspect
From above and below


_

Dennis Paul Wilken is a prolific poet, sketch-artist, veteran journalist and Senior Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He studied at the University of Cincinnati and is a former Staff Writer for Cincinnati Magazine. His poem "Outcomes" was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2011. His first chapbook is called Sweat Off the Diamond (2009). His recent chapbook Poetry Factory (2017) is forthcoming from Imperative Papers.

Dark Fact —a poem by Dennis Paul Wilken

Our proverbial three score and ten
Can be compared
To the blink
Of a nervous eye;
Shakespeare has
Been gone 400 years
And he ain't getting up
But we persist in
Climbing over
Each other
Like blind bees
Willing to risk
Everything
For a little more
Of the same
Old honey.


_

Dennis Paul Wilken is a prolific poet, sketch-artist, veteran journalist and Senior Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He studied at the University of Cincinnati and is a former Staff Writer for Cincinnati Magazine. His poem "Outcomes" was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2011. His first chapbook is called Sweat Off the Diamond (2009). His recent chapbook Poetry Factory (2017) is forthcoming from Imperative Papers.

rest in peace gregg allman —a poem by J.J. Campbell

another
legend
gone

another voice
of my lonely
nights full of
alcohol and
what might
have been

looking
out into
the sunset

somewhere
beyond the
whipping
post

your brother
is waiting

make those
beautiful
sounds
once
again

_
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is currently trapped in suburbia. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Chiron Review, Mad Swirl, Winedrunk Sidewalk, In Between Hangovers and Synchronized Chaos. You can find him bitching about something daily on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights.

take your father fishing —a poem by J.J. Campbell

drove past this sign
today that said start
a new tradition take
your father fishing

let me grab my
shovel and dig
the fucker up

he'll be just as
talkative as before

_
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is currently trapped in suburbia. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Chiron Review, Mad Swirl, Winedrunk Sidewalk, In Between Hangovers and Synchronized Chaos. You can find him bitching about something daily on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights.

outside your window —a poem by J.J. Campbell

there's
a stray cat
outside your
window

it instantly
reminds you
of the ones
that used to
live on the
farm

i doubt they
have to worry
about coyotes
here in the
suburbs


_
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is currently trapped in suburbia. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Chiron Review, Mad Swirl, Winedrunk Sidewalk, In Between Hangovers and Synchronized Chaos. You can find him bitching about something daily on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights.

instinct tells me —a poem by J.J. Campbell

watching this
black guy on
oxygen struggle
to light a cigarette

instinct tells me
to get the fuck
away as quick
as possible

the poet in me
knows to sit
back and enjoy

the show
_
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is currently trapped in suburbia. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Chiron Review, Mad Swirl, Winedrunk Sidewalk, In Between Hangovers and Synchronized Chaos. You can find him bitching about something daily on his highly entertaining blog, evil delights.

Storm —a poem by Linda Imbler

He hears,

Raging,

Howling,

Thunderous bellowing.

He feels,

Slamming,

Wet,

Splashing,

On eyes and face.

He sees,

Bright lights

Flashing behind his eyes,

Sudden darkness.

The sound of sirens,

Screaming.

He awakens in an ambulance,

Remembers the savage beating

He endured

At the hands of an abusive father

When the storm came.

_

Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.” Her work has been published by Fine Flu Journal, Bunbury Magazine, Blognostics, Nailpolish Stories, Broad River Review Literary Magazine, Mad Swirl, Ascent Aspirations: Friday’s Poems, Unbroken Journal, The Voices Project and GloMag. New poems are forthcoming in Leaves of Ink, Halcyon Days, Zingara and The Beautiful Space. Online, she can be found at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com. This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player resides in Wichita, Kansas.

Victorious —a poem by Linda Imbler

Find your moment of courage,

Wretchedness will help no one.

Find valor on your feet,

not fear.

Be not cowardly,

nor surrender,

nor be of disuse.

Begin when the sky is darkest,

when the road looks the longest.

Step forth, don’t lose heart.

Indeed,

having it in your throat already defeats you.

_

Linda Imbler is the author of the published poetry collection “Big Questions, Little Sleep.” Her work has been published by Fine Flu Journal, Bunbury Magazine, Blognostics, Nailpolish Stories, Broad River Review Literary Magazine, Mad Swirl, Ascent Aspirations: Friday’s Poems, Unbroken Journal, The Voices Project and GloMag. New poems are forthcoming in Leaves of Ink, Halcyon Days, Zingara and The Beautiful Space. Online, she can be found at lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com. This writer, yoga practitioner, and classical guitar player resides in Wichita, Kansas.

dominoes —a poem by Justin Hyde

i sent the lesbian

flowers

& the married woman

& the newly unmarried woman

& the dipsomaniac

the nymphomaniac 

the apiarist

with eleven toes

& the abacus

with raven blue eyes

& double-d tits

i sent flowers

to the mail carrier with a lisp

& ripped jeans

the beautiful

magazine intern

whose fiancé

was a law student at creighton

the bowling ball

who bought everything on credit

& told me

she liked men with long hair

i sent flowers to the woman

old enough to by my mother

who kept pill bottles

with names like risperidal

trazodone & seroquel

at the foot of her bed

like a moat

i sent another lesbian

flowers

a nascent widow

two more married women

& a hazel-eyed girl

with a kitten jaw

who'd already given her heart

to christ

the more

unavailable they are

the harder

i fall.

_

Justin Hyde is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He is the former Poetry Editor of Thieves Jargon and the author of the chapbooks Down Where the Hummingbird Goes to Die (2008) and Another Casualty at the 34th St. Bus Stop (2009). His last collection of poems is An Elephant Hole (2014, Interior Noise Press). He lives in Iowa and works with criminals. 

it smells like rain — a poem by Justin Hyde

i might be the father
of a four year old boy,

the mother
is trying to track me down;

my new girlfriend
crashed a porsche
at the age of fifteen,

her mind is a calculator
she apologizes
for nothing,

just whispers
in my ear
with a southern lilt;

my ex-gf
with lurid blue eyes
like church windows
is trying to track me down,

she finds me
cries & cries
asking if i'm
dating anyone new;

sit down
just pick one and sit down,

the old hispanic man
with silver rings
all over his left hand
told me in a bar
twenty years ago,

hijo
pick one
sit down
it's all the same
get old and fat hijo,

he put his silver ringed hand
on my neck
& laughed
& laughed

in a rambling
gallows
voice.


_

Justin Hyde is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He is the former Poetry Editor of Thieves Jargon and the author of the chapbooks Down Where the Hummingbird Goes to Die (2008) and Another Casualty at the 34th St. Bus Stop (2009). His last collection of poems is An Elephant Hole (2014, Interior Noise Press). He lives in Iowa and works with criminals. 

the bow legged hispanic man —a poem by Justin Hyde

parks his big red truck
in front of my neighbor's house.

i've talked to him
but he's set in his ways,
my neighbor barb sighs
glass of riesling in hand.

he must hear something
because he's started alternating:

her house
my house
and the guy one down.

it's the only time
i see
or talk to him.

says he was a cop
twenty-years

parole officer for fifteen
before that.

i get two pensions,
he smiles broadly
swinging those bowed legs
like hinges.

sometimes
he swivels down the road
holding a young grandson's hand

don corleone
in the garden scene.

mostly
it's just that big red truck

quiet in the background

like a neighborhood tree.


_

Justin Hyde is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He is the former Poetry Editor of Thieves Jargon and the author of the chapbooks Down Where the Hummingbird Goes to Die (2008) and Another Casualty at the 34th St. Bus Stop (2009). His last collection of poems is An Elephant Hole (2014, Interior Noise Press). He lives in Iowa and works with criminals. 

memories like jacks across the floor — a poem by Justin Hyde

that evening
after chemo
her headache came.

i drove us
through the
eastern iowa hills

her head
in my lap,
hot with fever,
mumbling fever dreams.

i drove
up and down gravel roads,
dead ends,
farmers' driveways,
almost into the
black lip of a lake.

the low gas light
flashed,
we barely limped into williamsburg
to refuel.

i drove
and drove
until my back
locked up

the only prayer
to release it

was reciting the alphabet
backward over
and over

until a purple sun
up from the rolling east
baked her out of the fever dream.

she peed
behind a barn

and kissed my shoulder

with cracked
red lips.

_

Justin Hyde is a poet and Literary Editor for The Commonline Journal. He is the former Poetry Editor of Thieves Jargon and the author of the chapbooks Down Where the Hummingbird Goes to Die (2008) and Another Casualty at the 34th St. Bus Stop (2009). His last collection of poems is An Elephant Hole (2014, Interior Noise Press). He lives in Iowa and works with criminals.