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Sweet Heart
Editor's Note: Harbinger Asylum published the original version of this poem in October 2015.
He’d seen it glint earlier when a shaft of light hit the open box. He kept watch till they left. Back now, still watchful. Turn his head this way, then that. No cats. No humans. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Gifts
By Lisa Roth
QuailBellMagazine.com
Philomena’s limp body hung from a silk scarf tied to the Baccarat chandelier. This particular piece had been made in France of fine crystal, and took well over a year to deliver. Once installed, it gleamed with radiant energy. But today the imported showpiece looked dull. In fact the only significant quality it exhibited was its ability to remain intact while supporting a human corpse.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Poems by Alan Garfoot
Zero-X
Once just a spiritual bystander just killing time, Now a Lyrical commander through his sacred lines, A spaceship landed through his portal sign, Having a telepathic link with his mind. With a cosmic higher nexus formed of the stars, And a purified solar plexus that we know is ours, Thoughts now perplex us about the extinction of Mars, As our spiritual memes evolve who and what we are. Together we scan the essences of the cosmic void, For the darkened presence of what we must destroy, The fear and distress in our hearts we sublimate to avoid, Whilst battling the compressed hate of the devils toys. For we are designed of sacred rhymes in spaces undone, Our spirits of refined purity and the essence of the sun, The social subconscious of our minds today form as one, Through the unification of our spirit all future battles are won. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Echoes in the Wind
On crescents of wind,
Behind, one voice sails Across treaded ground. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Scientia Sit Potentia
There is no good,
there is no evil – power and glory lie innocuously; The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Dreaming in Letters
By Katherine Givens
QuailBellMagazine.com Editor's Note: First published in Passages of Love: A Collection of Poems
Take shape
In my reverie. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Olga Nice Has Not Found Love: A Found Poem
I.
Dear friend, I had not dealt with the reason. The guts messaged the very relationship, anxious, having hope to meet a responsible possibility: strong cowboy in this digital world. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Am I Dreaming?
By Lynn White
QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: This poem first appeared in Pilcrow and Dagger, June 2015. Is this a dream, a mirage? I could be sleeping. I was looking out on trees with rooks calling and nesting when I started to eat my picnic. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Game of Chess
By Sona Maniar
QuailBellMagazine.com
The stress had been building up for some time, but still the final meltdown was rather dramatic. As Hemingway put it in The Sun Also Rises - How did you go bankrupt? Two ways - gradually and then suddenly. We had been locked in a very heated discussion for nearly three hours and getting nowhere. Dan and myself represented the management of Atco, an engineering equipment manufacturer with a global presence. Across the table were Barry and Ian, union representatives from the Ellesmere Port plant facility. The facility had not been performing well and the last quarter results had been particularly dismal. The CEO of Atco, Greg Cook, had decided that the way to restore profitability at the plant would be by cutting costs, i.e reducing staff numbers and lowering the pay packages. The unions were dead set against this proposal. Since two months, the management and the unions had been going back and forth on the negotiations. This October meeting was supposed to be key in reaching at least a basic framework of agreement. I was the Vice President of Manufacturing for Europe; a 40 year old high potential talent tipped to join the board of the firm shortly. A blonde who defied convention and was not just another pretty face. I had strict instructions from Greg not to leave the meeting room without a basic agreement.
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