THE CITY OF WATER

by Bänoo Zan

for the people of Iran

The townspeople are hungry *

for bread and freedom

 

The streets are rivers

bubbling with chants

 

Crowds break into the food storage

of revolutionary guards

 

not to loot 

but to rip the rice bags

throw fistfuls overhead

 

reenact the Milky Way

against the night of news blackout

 

We are protestors

not rioters

 

We fear bullets

but we fear silence more

 

In this torrent of blood

courage is not a laurel wreath 

but a lifeline  

 

May joy echo in our mountains 

May justice wash the blood off our valleys

May our twin lakes be ^

as lucid as freedom

 

 

---

* “Abdanan” means “the city of water.” Located in Ilam Province, Iran, it was the scene of a remarkable protest on January 6, 2026.

^ These twin lakes are called the Black Bull Lakes. They are known for their clear blue water, although where the depth increases, the water appears to be black. The overall patterns of blue and black look like spots on a cow’s hide. 

Bänoo Zan is a poet, translator, and curator, with numerous published pieces and books including Songs of Exile and Letters to My Father. She is the founder of Shab-e She’r (Poetry Night), Canada’s most diverse and brave poetry open mic series (inception 2012). It bridges the gap between poets from different ethnicities, nationalities, religions (or lack thereof), ages, genders, sexual orientations, abilities, poetic styles, voices, and visions. Bänoo, with Cy Strom, is the co-editor of the anthology: Woman Life Freedom: Poems for the Iranian Revolution. She is the recipient of the 2025 Writers’ Union of Canada Freedom to Read Award.

A PLAN FOR ROSH HASHANAH

by Anita Pulier

New Year’s greetings

line up in my in-box

alongside desperate pleas.

I skip past

Unicef

NOW

Planned Parenthood

J Street

The ACLU

The DNC

Bernie and Elizabeth

Earthquake and hurricane relief

and Gaza, and Gaza.

open only

holiday greetings,

an invitation to cast off sin

at the beach with kith and kin.

Yet the weeping world is insistent,

oozes through cyberspace and

drowns out the trumpeting shofar.

There I am, stranded, sandwiched

between the seasonal rituals of an ancient

holiday and others’ jarring pain.

I nod to the god

I do not believe in,

propose a deal:

keep everyone I love safe and

I will grapple with despair and failure tomorrow.

Today I will nurture joy and unfounded optimism,

eat apples and honey,

celebrate the tribe.

Anita Pulier's latest book is Leaving Brooklyn. (Kelsay Books) Anita’s poems have appeared in many journals and anthologies. She has been a featured poet on The Writer's Almanac and Cultural Daily. 

I WANT TO LOVE WAKING UP

by Lynne Schilling

after “I Want to Love the World” by Christine Potter

I want to love waking up again, but for months

I’ve been waking up to thoughts of being a day 

closer to death, to images of the bony ribcages 

 

of starving children, to the blankness of hope. 

I want to be light as birdsong at dawn, but instead, 

I am the heavy keening of families of deportees. 

 

I want to love waking up, but joy evades my grip,

drips off my fingers and evaporates, like drops 

of water on a hot pan. I want to wake up happy, 

but doom is leaning on her horn under my window, 

making thoughts of anything else impossible. I force

myself to get up, and only then, when I feel my feet 

 

on the floor, do I remember poetry—a few lines

I want to revise, a poem I want to reread & that 

is enough to get me down the stairs to my coffee.

While Lynne Schilling has been writing poetry on and off for forty years, she began writing it seriously four years ago at age 75. Her day job was as an academic in an entirely different field. She has published poems in Quartet, The Alchemy Spoon, Rue Scribe, The New Verse News and others. She has poems forthcoming in Lucky Jefferson and MacQueen’s Quinterly.

SHHHH

by stella graham-landau

in memory of Andrea Gibson 
13 August 1975 — 14 July 2025

quiet settles on the sheets
eyelids closed
one final rest

their smile remains
last memory last touch
last blessing inhaled exhaled

their passion lifts 
into the air around us
ignites our faith

their lines of poetry 
vine around our hearts 
their legacy already in bloom

be inspired
let yourselves lean into joy
dig deeper into all aspects of life

every step 
every breath
carry hope forward

shhhh
now smile
all is well

stella lives in richmond, va and has been published in The 

New Verse News several times as well as in regional publications. she's grateful for the wonderful poetry communities that exist, encouraging all of us to find our voices and share our truths and wonderings.

DON’T MOURN THE THORNS

by Corey Weinstein

Did you smile, even laugh aloud,

A smirk tumbling out of simmering glee?

Yes I was among the first 26,743,226

to feel joy when Notre Dame burned,

A spire collapsed shooting fireballs

through the attic, crashing the crosses,

Yellow flames licked the towers

and tickled my giggle bone,

 

From what abominations the fire sparked?

Of what burnt and musty stench like earth

where children are buried unmarked?

Rats running from their snuggle spots,

The ancient rot to their liking,

Dirty sins in the Savior’s name purified

Plastic icons oozed and bubbled black,

and is the toxic smoke pleasing to God?

 

The grand Dame’s construction marked

two hundred years of persecution

of expulsion, return and expulsion.

Built on the bones and bank notes 

of two centuries of violation,

feeding off the destruction

and exile of the Jews.

 

I won’t be contributing to the Church

where kings were crowned,

Where the crown of thorns stands in state.

Ask me again when plans include

a health center for family planning

and care for survivors of priestly abuse.

 

My joy only muted by the despair of the faithful

and knowing the stinking thing will rise as before.

Corey Weinstein’s poetry has been published in Vistas and Byways, The New Verse News, Our California 2024, The Ekphrastic Review, Forum (City College of San Francisco), California State Poetry Society, Visitant, Abandoned Mine, Speak Poetry of San Mateo County, California State Poetry Society and Jewish Currents, and he wrote and performed a singspiel called Erased: Babi Yar, the SS and Me.  He has been an advocate for prisoner rights and founded California Prison Focus, and he led the American Public Health Association’s Prison Committee for many years. In his free time, he hosts San Francisco OLLI’s Poetry Interest Group and plays the clarinet in his local jazz band, Tandem, his synagogue choir and woodwind ensembles.

DEAR MAGAS

by Anita S. Pulier

Republicans Target Social Sciences to Curb Ideas They Don’t Like: Conservatives in Florida have moved from explosive politics to subtler tactics to uproot liberal “indoctrination” in higher education by removing classes like Sociology from core requirements.

—The New York Times, November 21, 2024.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

—William Shakespeare, Hamlet

What’s missing is the welcome,
the worry, the asking, the hesitation
to inflict irreparable damage.

What’s missing is the listening,
the hearing, the ingesting
the Other’s story.

What’s missing is the raised eyebrow,
the rejection of weaponized prayer
fueled by hate and anger.

What’s missing is the nod
to Earth’s feverish future,
the grief of broken promises.

What’s missing is an apology,
the agonized regret,
the elasticity of empathy.

What’s missing is vulnerability,
the failure to fear a charred
barren planet.

What’s missing is the poetry.
Every atom belonging to me
as good belongs to you.*

Oh yes, and joy.
Joy is missing.

*Walt Whitman “Song of Myself”

Anita S. Pulier’s chapbooks Perfect Diet, The Lovely Mundane and Sounds of Morning and her books The Butchers Diamond and Toast were published by Finishing Line Press.  Paradise Reexamined came out in 2023 (Kelsay Books). Her new book Leaving Brooklyn is due out in Jan '25 from Kelsay Books. Anita’s poems have appeared in many journals and her work is included in many print anthologies. Anita has been a featured poet on The Writer's Almanac and Cultural Daily.

MESSENGER RNA

by Claudia Gary

AI-generated graphic by Shutterstock for The New Verse News.

Vaccine doing its work

sent signals overriding

emotion, music, words,

hunger, desire—but only for

one day, that messenger.

Soon there would be sunset 

with orange hues to mark

the hours that made up

a day of gratitude—

vaccine, then first-day voting—

two gifts! Will I recall

such joy? And will the volume

of voting be sufficient

to stop that other virus?

Claudia Gary teaches workshops on Villanelle, Sonnet, Meter, Poetry vs. Trauma, etc., at The Writer’s Center and privately, currently via Zoom. Author of Humor Me (2006) and chapbooks including Genetic Revisionism (2019), she is also a health/science writer, visual artist, composer of tonal songs and chamber music, and an advisory editor of New Verse Review. Her 2022 article on setting poems to music is online.