|| AUGUST 2020 ||

My poem, Atom Bomb days, was featured amongst some pretty awesome poets for the August edition of Versification. Definitely a site worth viewing!

versification


This issue of VERSIFICATION

is dedicated to

all survivors

of

hate, abuse, oppression, and injustice.


WARNING: DISTURBING CONTENT


Banana Bread

By Shufei Ewe

420 sifts by quickly,

everyone is still getting baked––

the powder just looks different.

HRG


9:47 |By Stephen J Golds

in the morning

eating breakfast out of a ripped plastic bag in a parking lot of an isolated

seven-eleven with gut ache and the shakes wondering if she was right after all.

HRG


menarche

By Gina Marie Bernard

the very first time, i am twelve—

unscheduled, ill prepared.

blood trickles; i imagine an arroyo.

he grinds my cheek to carpet

and prompts me not to tell.

Sara Dobbie


Kip Knott

Evening Walk after the Divorce

By Kip Knott

Two cops stand over the body of a man

I’ve sometimes given loose change.

They wrap him in plastic. In the body bag’s zip

I hear my ex-wife brushing…

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To Think of Sarah

Tyler R. Martin

Each time that song plays I think of Sarah,
And her red hair waving lovely in that way.
Every time the chorus rings I feel so alone,
Saying, “Sarah God I miss you,
Sarah, baby, please come on home,
Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

And each time the song ends, I feel so empty,
Until that solemn tune begins again;
I mourn the loss of my lover
And the loss, also, of a friend
For much like that sad song, I’ve played for so long,
Someone one help me, please, I’m at my end.
Saying, “Sarah God I’ll miss you,
Sarah, please come home,
It’s better here I promise
Than wherever you may roam
Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

There’s bound to be a reason for her leaving,
There’s bound to be an answer in her words,
The words she knew so true
And she felt she had to say
When she gasped out her last breath
As I held her hand to pray
Before her body became cold,
Saying, “Sarah, without you I’ll be alone.”

“If ever was there life,” she said,
“there also must be death,
I feel the weight upon me now,”
As she she struggled her last breath
And in her final agony, she smiled so sincere,
Saying, “my loves with you forever, babe,”
In her last moment here,
“But, never fail to wander, and
Don’t be in agony over me,
Don’t sit upon a throne so lonesome,
That I couldn’t bear to see.”
And in that final moment I gave my reply,
Saying, “Sarah, God I miss you so badly Right now, baby, I could cry,
Sarah, baby why’d you have to die?”

“Bomb Shelled Suburbia”

Tyler R. Martin

Old tired towns along the east coast,
Rusted trains roar by in the night,
The oceanside’s littered in rubble and dust
And only the stars provide light.
Back streets bomb shelled like Beirut
And shattered city’s a hell of a sight.

Shredded sunk war ships have distance,
But their submerged hulls reflect sun,
Bombshells still exploding on long island sound
Scream the battle has not yet been won

Soot’s repainted suburban scenes
Under clouds cloaked in toxic haze
Bullets rattling off, each an echo of the last,
And seem not to cease for days.

Hope you enjoyed the poem! If you did, my chapbook is available on Amazon for 1.99 and if you message me I’ll definitely send you a free one! I’d love to get some reviews on my work. I’m new to selfpublishing and trying to promote myself anyway I can! There is a link below

Check this out: Midnight Mourning by Tyler R. Martin https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0878SXJBM/ref=cm_sw_r_sms_awdb_t1_iU.MEbDX2GJ4V

Hangovers

Tyler R. Martin

(looking for some feedback)

Hangovers, in a realistic sense,
Are God’s revenge and your penance.
For any fun you may have had
Is then reversed, correspondingly bad.
When the following day in pain you awake
God has equaled out your little break!

For, as his creations, we do imbibe,
That, which from his fruits, we have derived,
Which He Himself in His wisdom made,
It would then seem to imbibe he bade,
This magic substance to warp our minds
And to consume till all are blind!

So is it not wrong for Him to tempt?
Should we not therefore be exempt?
Can a liquid of sin still feel devine?
Could not it be argued to drink’s a shrine?
Or should we abstain, fear and lament,
Our God above and His contempt!

So if He is to sit upon a throne of law,
Then to me, this must be, really something more.
For if this isn’t cruelty, who then is the judge?
Was it not He, as He be, to give us all the nudge?
If not, then to you I must concede,
That He’ll be there to judge and glare in times of dire need!

“to be pointless”

Tyler R. Martin

Woke up today thinking I’d probably die.
Poured coffee drank it down, coughed, then
Cracked a beer, lit a smoke, contemplated life;
Found it pointless, but, on the heels of that,
Contemplated that death is also pretty pointless,
So I cracked another beer scratched my gut
And said I’d try again tomorrow.