Today’s choice

Previous poems

Michael Mintrom

 

 

 

A Map of Old Battles

They lie deep in a forest, wounds
unseen, unhealed. Further back,
an escarpment with dark scars.

Visiting, perhaps you expected
something tactile, something to hold,
markers of exact terrain, key sites

on paper or cowhide. Who can say
how history unfolds? Waiting for sleep,
visions return — bodies, faces.

Indelible feelings. This topography
I carry. Thank you because you listen,
you understand this haunting.

Should we talk of fit and proper things,
above our power to add or subtract?
This is my map. It is not the only map.

 

 

Michael Mintrom lives in Melbourne, Australia. His poems have appeared in various literary journals including: Amsterdam Quarterly, The Blue Mountain Review, Cordite Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, London Grip, The Metaworker, and Shot Glass Journal.

Katie Beswick

You wouldn’t believe how quick they grew —
Our babies were men now. Lifting bags of concrete
they rebuilt cities, slab by slab, reinforcing cracks.

HLR

I find six errors in the proofreading manual & the irony doesn’t tickle me.
I am enraged by typos, poor formatting, missing commas. This is my Big Girl Job,
the one I always wanted —

Angela Howarth Martinot

What seems to be the problem ? He asks
in that slightly condescending tone.
Seems,     I think,      Seems.
It seems, I say,
that I have a problem with my inner fish,

Bianca Pina

My Dad once dismissed a friend as a hypocrite,
which I took to be an induction to the truth.
Lately though, I think the things I love in you
I love because they’re grossly inconsistent.