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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com.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 together. Show all posts
Showing posts with label together. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

HERE WE ARE

by Dan Brook 




here we are
we must do
what is difficult
we must do
what is necessary
we must be

we must be
the bay
polluted & pissed in
used, abused
trying to support life
we must sustain

we must be
the rainforest
slashed & burned
choking, smoking
trying to breathe
we must regenerate

we must be
the ocean
jumped in & dumped in
crashing, thrashing
trying to wash
we must cleanse

we must be
the Earth
ridden roughshod
quaking, spinning
trying to survive
we must live

we must be
the worm
stepped over & on
wiggling, wriggling
trying to burrow
we must be humble

we must be
the other
feared & hated
mistaken, misunderstood
trying to communicate
we must be compassionate

we must be
democracy
inefficient & empowering
attacked, defended
trying to survive
we must act

we must be
ourselves
proud & vibrant
scarred, scared
trying to be
we must be better

we must be
who we are
together & alone
all of us, together
trying to thrive
we must be the best us


Dan Brook teaches in the Department of Sociology and Interdisciplinary Social Sciences at San Jose State University and is, most recently, the author of Sweet Nothings (Hekate Publishing).

Monday, November 02, 2020

I WISH WE COULD ZIP UP THE ELECTION BY TUESDAY

by Phyllis Klein



Trump Zipper published October 31, 2018 by R.J. Matson politicalcartoons.com


I love the zippers in my life,
on skirts, pants, purses.
I even have a dress with three
large silver ones on the diagonal 
across my chest, torso, hips.
Me, as master of my universe,
pulling the tabs open or closed,
the teeth as they fall into a chain line
like a basketball team or a ballet troupe.
Connecting me to the openings and closings
of  the day, to other zippers and zipperers
everywhere. Oh if only everyone could fall
into a compassionate line, close out the cruelties,
open up for human rights, and critical care 
for the Earth. If money wasn’t the only thing. 
If coming together could win the day.


Phyllis Klein’s work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. She is a finalist in the Sweet Poetry Contest, 2017, the Carolyn Forché Humanitarian Poetry Contest, 2019, and the Fischer Prize, 2019. She was nominated for a Pushcart prize in 2018 and again in 2020. She has a new book, The Full Moon Herald from Grayson Books. Living in the San Francisco Bay Area for over 30 years, she sees writing as artistic dialogue between author and readers—an intimate relationship-building process that fosters healing on many levels. 

Thursday, June 06, 2019

AMERICA FIRST

by Gil Hoy


The colorful Mosaic ceiling of the Chapel at the Normandy American Cemetery & Memorial symbolizes the United States which blesses its sons fighting for the freedom and a grateful France, which lays a laurel wreath among the fallen Americans who gave their lives for the liberation of the oppressed Europe. “On D-Day anniversary, ‘America First’ doesn’t sit well on the beaches of Normandy” —The Washington Post, June 6, 2019


Are we a family of nations
or are we not   How did                                                    
this nations thing happen
in the first place anyway
where just about every man
woman and child belongs
to one like a fraternity
or club   Was it a language
barrier or is that chicken
before egg banter   No slant
eyes here   No black eyes there

Americanized Lily White
Monet Europeans will inherit
the earth   Not the chosen people
Not the Nazis nor Jap equivalents

Build that wall   Rousseau wrote:
The man who enclosed the first
piece of ground was . . .
How many crimeswarsmurders
saved mankind by pulling up
stakes  Like the League
of Nations   Like Clinton
(the philanderer one)
at the second Obama DC:
“We’re all in this together
is better than you’re
on your own”

Not the selfish spoiled brat
hoarding all the kids’ toys
to be sent to his room
for a timeout   My adult
son was a little boy once
fighting sisters for front car
seats   And he was so sad when
his friend’s mother-made brownies
were eaten    Eaten by the class bully
who tried very hard to eat even
the last one   And many many many
more before that, before my starving
son had had even a teeny tiny bite

And our President wants
to bomb Iran (Liar!) and ban
transgenders and Muslims from living                                
in this world   His National Security Advisor
believes if you remove the top ten floors
of the UN building nothing happens
And his AG thinks Congress will
stay asleep at the switch   And London
protesters are disguised lovers who cannot
help but love our President and his terrific
economy, made in his own image
where tax breaks get richer and borders
get poorer

And when will the meek inherit
the earth   And where’s that last brownie
for my heavenly son and his starving
father to eat.


Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and semi-retired trial lawyer studying poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy previously received a B.A. in Philosophy and Political Science from Boston University, an M.A. in Government from Georgetown University, and a J.D. from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. Hoy’s poetry has appeared most recently in Chiron Review, TheNewVerse.News, Ariel Chart, Social Justice Poetry, The Potomac, The Penmen Review and elsewhere.