Guidelines



Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label divided. Show all posts
Showing posts with label divided. Show all posts

Monday, July 04, 2022

JULY

by David Radavich



Can we be independent 
together?  It is
 
a contradiction
devoutly to be wished.
 
Parades, floats, marching 
bands, twirling batons,
tricolor costumes,
 
fireworks
in the festive key.
 
Much of our food
is the same—
grilled, between buns,
sided by slaw, beans,
beer and boasting,
 
a ball tossed 
with betting, servers 
bustling as bees.   
           
Ironic how we choose
the same means
to be ourselves
and free—
 
can shared rituals
save a divided land?    
 

Among David Radavich's poetry collections are two epics, America Bound and America Abroad, as well as Middle-East Mezze and The Countries We Live In.  His latest book is Unter der Sonne / Under the Sun: German and English Poems from Deutscher Lyrik Verlag.

Sunday, February 07, 2021

LOOKING FOR AMERICA

by George Salamon 




I looked for the American character,
and I saw the contours fading, the
words to sing of it sour or drab, I
seek refuge in old photo albums, 
capturing dignity and pride, coming
together in many kinds of work and
fulfillment, revealing what we had or
what we thought we had, now that
we're seeking the causes of our loss
as if our minds had shut down and our
hands and feet were bound, yet no
cause is so deep it cannot be found.

George Salamon live in the heartland of America, St. Louis, MO, and contributes to The Asses of Parnassus, One Sentence Poems, and The New Verse News.

Friday, January 22, 2021

NO TWO ALIKE

by Felicia Sanzari Chernesky




          for B.A.
 

In the night snow fell
upon the bittersweet
and lined the land from stone
to sleeping limb with hope.
 
The waking sky reveals
it’s hardly deep enough
to cover the frozen leaves
of grass, but having fallen
 
far and wide, traces
each intention—tire tracks
down a road, fox footprints
fading into the woods
 
dividing neighborhoods.
Despite these separate paths
the snowfall wakes me up
again to the bracing truth
 
that we are joined to one
another and this place,
fragile icy pieces
formed in community—
 
We robe ourselves in frost
yet thrive in unity.


Felicia Sanzari Chernesky is a longtime editor and picture book author who tracks life’s footprints with poetry as her lens. Her microfiction has been nominated for a 2021 Pushcart and Best of Microfiction. She lives with her family in Flemington, New Jersey