
poetry
“Home”
a poem by Lara Amin
by Lara Amin
Time is coming.
Shipped home, your will
To play the
Several realities
Nonstop
Surprised us.
The canyon ominous night
Fog in the sky got
Honest
With god.
Inside moles,
Deep,
Saw the neverending packs of
Quiet suburban dream.
I was surprised with love;
You showed up.
Thankful, I don’t know.
Any details.
But trust me, time
will
come.
Lara Amin is a poet, an artist, and a connoisseur of Spongebob references. Lara is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in English with an emphasis in Children's Literature. A few of her favorite works are Alice in Wonderland, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and The Taming of the Shrew. During her free time, Lara enjoys tarot, astrology, photography, and fine dining.
“Pomegranate Flesh” and “Life is Flamenco”
two poems by Strider Marcus Jones
by Strider Marcus Jones
Pomegranate Flesh
ask those
who grow old-
some fruits are nicer
when they're riper.
you don’t stop
the clock
on the one who chose
you to hold-
her pomegranate
is still your sonnet
of sepia feelings and flesh,
sensuously sweet and fresh.
although the mirror never lies,
it shows the beauty that lives
as it dies
and gives
its own reflection
of your perfection
to me
then and now,
each memory
taken
by the lenses
somehow,
preserved
by your words
and curves
in my senses.
our dance,
that thrilled
in its intricate
tango on the floor,
is still filled
with time intimate
romance
and more-
talking Rubicon of reason,
in layer, upon layer of season
so sedimentary
since you entered me-
and i consumed
your silky mesh
of pink perfumed
pomegranate flesh.
Life is Flamenco
why can't i walk as far
and smoke more tobacco,
or play my Spanish guitar
like Paco,
putting rhythms and feelings
without old ceilings
you've never heard
before in a word.
life is flamenco,
to come and go
high and low
fast and slow-
she loves him,
he loves her
and their shades within
caress and spur
in a ride and dance
of tempestuous romance.
outback, in Andalucien ease,
i embrace you, like melted breeze
amongst ripe olive trees-
dark and different,
all manly scent
and mind unkempt.
like i do,
Picasso knew
everything about you
when he drew
your elongated arms and legs
around me, in this perpetual bed
of emotion
and motion
for these soft geometric angles
in my finger strokes
and exhaled smokes
of rhythmic bangles
to circle colour your Celtic skin
with primitive phthalo blue
pigment in wiccan tattoo
before entering
vibrating wings
through thrumming strings
of wild lucid moments
in eternal components.
i can walk as far
and smoke more tobacco,
and play my spanish guitar
like Paco.
Strider Marcus Jones is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/ reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms. His poetry has been published in over 200 publications including: Dreich Magazine; The Racket Journal; Trouvaille Review; dyst Literary Journal; Impspired Magazine; Melbourne Culture Corner and Literary Yard Journal.
“Late” and “King of Quiet”
two poems by Ethan Sparks
by Ethan Sparks
Late
Where once
opened and welcome
smoke tilted towards
her neck,
now adrift,
her neck
pale and raw
hints at clean
and settled patchouli.
His lying
is getting to me.
King of Quiet
Down the street
Where king and quiet meet
Belt loose and
Warm echo on stale
Milk carton flies
August inner ear
And buzzing
A perfect heat and
Handprint recedes
From spilled red
Beneath table
And warm bed
I’ll stroke your missing hair
The flap of scalp
The love leaking from you.
Ethan Sparks is a graduate of UCSD's MFA program in Creative Writing. He also holds a Masters in Teaching from USC. His work has been featured in the Allegheny Review and the Birds in Shorts City series. He has taught writing at UCSD and currently teaches High School English in Phoenix, Arizona, where he also runs the LGBTQ and Newspaper clubs.
“it needs more light”
a poem by Linda M. Crate
by Linda M. Crate
i used to laugh loud and talk loud
until i was mocked for it,
now i have sewn myself into softness
and silence and people tell me that
i am too quiet;
no matter what you do or who you are
there's someone that's going to be unhappy
so you may as well be yourself—
because there's no freedom in restraining
who you are for the happiness of others,
and if they truly loved you they would care
more about your happiness than their
personal preferences;
one day i hope that i can get my voice back
even if i never can i know that i can write
these words with the hopes that i can help
people who suffered like me in a world that
will be cruel to you and then ask why you don't
love yourself? in a world that will be cruel to
you and then ask why you're not smiling?
in a world where they want you to be just
another prototype, dare to be yourself;
the world doesn't need more shadows—it needs more light.
Linda M. Crate's poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has ten published chapbooks: A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019), the samurai (Yellow Arrowing Publishing, October 2020), Follow the Black Raven (Alien Buddha Publishing, July 2021), Unleashing the Archers (Guerilla Genesis Press, August 2021), and Hecate's Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021) and three micro-chapbooks Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020), and & so I believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She is also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018).
“Sonora Bound” and “Ghosts”
two poems by Liz Pino Sparks
By Liz Pino Sparks
Sonora Bound
We fled in a heatwave
eucalyptus ablaze
in the rear view.
Saints and angels just
memories like in our
olfactories. They say
we are immune
to our own bacteria
and I think maybe
the charm of faith has
worn off. There is
sickness here and
we try in desperation
to stave it off, grow
new life in healthy
air, where desert
promises buds in
the harshest conditions,
and we take that to
mean hope instead of
death and, stilly, we
wait
for sunrise.
Ghosts
When I think of
Kyle Rittenhouse, I think of
Sarah Winchester. I think of every boy
called into battle and how all battles
are of the mind. I think of how we tell
these boys that murder
is noble
within the bounds of
unexamined motives, without
a history that makes sense
of their anger, within
a nation
indivisible
from self-justified
violence, that seizes land
and lives,
that believes property
to be both in need of protection
and also
in existence at all. I think of every ancestor
who will rise up, demand proximity
for time eternal
to the conductors
of their demise. I think of how fleeting
a life is
compared with the years of a
deeply-earned haunting. I think of
how it is not so much a question
of whether the dead can talk
but that they must.
They must.
Liz Pino Sparks is a legal scholar, teaching in the areas of Bioethics and Health Law, with particular foci on reproductive justice and human rights, as well as a singer-songwriter under the name Liz Capra. They are currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing (Fiction) at SDSU. Liz is a Mami to 5.
an introduction
welcome to boats against the current poetry magazine! we’re so glad you’re here. we’re an online poetry magazine dedicated to bringing poets from all backgrounds and all stages of their writing careers together. for now, we are only publishing poems online. we hope to begin working on our first print edition once we have a consistent amount of submissions. check out our blog for more information about who we are and what we’re doing!