Monthly Archives: July 2016
Raymond Miller
stairs talk man we know each other good long time had ups and downs i see you grow from small to taller every day since early steps just you and lady racing over me together almost falling in your urgent … Continue reading
Robert Nisbet
Smoking Gauloises (which was as far as anyone went, in the drugs line, in nineteen-sixty-two). Rough Gallic gaspers, and with them, the cords, the fishermen’s sweaters, one beret (Steve) and the manuscripts, left on the kitchen table, and bulging from … Continue reading
Roddy Scott
Another Night Shift The subtle switchblade of tender love opens and in its loosing of red, ripened fruit delights the smile to see. Far away the twelfth bell strikes a dull note of accord the clock tower stretches out tired … Continue reading
Judith Taylor
Blue hat elegy (for Elizabeth) My blue hat was left on a train to Glasgow and never made it home, poor thing. I loved that hat though my boyfriend used to laugh at it and a friendly goat tried to … Continue reading
Stuart A. Paterson: two poems
SINKING On my heavy-legged way back from flames, coffee, poems at Rankine’s Bay the fading world surprises me with one last flare erupting goldenly over Torrs Hill. I’d stamped the fire, scattered still-burning logs onto cold rocks, was careful, considerate, … Continue reading
Anthony Mott
Conversations with my mother 11 In plain sight At the end of days Lies in wait The melted chill Of sodden ground. The elderly limp toward Childhood They are blessed, I remember I don’t remember I need to remember I … Continue reading
Hamish Scott – Four short poems
A deid-bell caas The graffsum lown the quatit waes The mirkie licht the murnin claes The dowie smirr the tears that faas Sum ither warld a deid-bell caas The dowie days Aa thing is lanesum, droukit, cauld, aa thing is … Continue reading
Harrison Abbott
Hush How each life shall burst Tumbling on the lie, the vanity. How they squabble for words With dripping chins exhausted. How to fellow each the lights Resembling ore by glittering; The myriad simmering Out on the hill plains; … Continue reading
J M Brown
Unrepentant smoker. Watchful, he scorned the world marijuana fumes drifting through a sliver of opened window. He scoured the news, his critical eye cross-referencing the cynical politics of people. He remained a dis-enchanted worker, never took the shilling, didn’t believe the guff and bluster … Continue reading
The Open Mouse 