Jim Hodge – Moth on a Step

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Jim Hodge
Moth on a Step

As with most things in the life of a hypomanic and formally diagnosed ADHD mind, poetry, black & white photography, and music have all acted as balms in my life, grabbing my attention, whispering to my ears and calling on my eyes to slow down, notice and be intentionally present—to momentarily exit the whitewater currents of daily life, to pull the kayak ashore, look downstream, and merely float in the beauty of the world. They are the equivalent of a stop, drop, and roll to extinguish the bonfires of the mind. The photo of a ‘Moth on a Cement Step’, as well as the poem, came to life on the same day, July 3, 2022. This digital photo was taken on an iPhone 5.

Jim Hodge Moth on a Cement Step, photograph, 2022

Edward Lee – Wet Street

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Edward Lee
Wet Street

Edward Lee writes: ‘This picture was taken in Barcelona with an Olympus E-510. I’ve always been attracted to images that contain a multitude of possible stories/interpretations, what may have happened before the picture was taken, what might happen after, what may be happening just outside of the shot.’

Edward Lee, Wet Street, photograph, 2021

Susan E. Lloy – Prospect, Nova Scotia

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Susan E. Lloy
Prospect, Nova Scotia

The ocean is many things to many people, but for me it is home. It’s a dream place I visit, if I’m fortunate, once a year. Prospect is where I hiked with my late father, who sketched and painted this slice of land, where the wild Atlantic spars with the rocky shore. Its wide expanse is where spirits are rejuvenated and worries washed away with each tide.
       When I write fiction settings on the sea, this majestic point is where I imagine my characters walking and observing, where their souls are awakened, as well as my own. This photo was shot with an iPhone 7.

Susan E. Lloy, Prospect, Nova Scotia, photograph, 2022

Kevin Vivers – Fallow

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Kevin Vivers
Fallow

Kevin Vivers writes: ‘I have been a photographer for over 40 years and I am constantly amazed by what the world has to offer if one just takes the time to see it. I have no preconceived notions as to what I am looking to photograph and with an open mind and eye my images are very instinctual, reflexive. Not spur of the moment but watchful of those moments as they come into view.’

Kevin Vivers, Fallow, photograph, 2021

Bob Ward – Caldbeck Village Green, Cumbria UK

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Bob Ward
Caldbeck Village Green, Cumbria UK

Bob Ward writes: ‘I enjoy taking photographs as records of people or places simply as they are. This photo was taken in Caldbeck Village Green located in Cumbria, UK. It is the quintessential representation of a Cumbrian village with a green, a duck pond, whitewashed stone houses with slate roofs, and green hills with hedgerows and trees in the background. The photo was taken on either a Canon D20 or D7 SLR camera.

Bob Ward, Caldwell Village Green, Cumbria, UK, photograph, 2022

Ray Zhang – Street of Colour and Mountainside Blossoms

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Ray Zhang
Street of Colour and Mountainside Blossoms

Ray Zhang is a senior in high school and he has an unquenchable love for photography. His work has been published in the Blue Marble Review and recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Association. His photographs, ‘Street of Colour’ and ‘Mountainside Blossoms’, were taken with an iPhone during his pre-pandemic trip to western China. Ray believes the most important aspect of photography is capturing people’s genuine nature and lifestyles.

Ray Zhang, Street of Colour, photograph, 2019

Ray Zhang, Mountainside Blossoms, photograph, 2019

Jim Hodge – Moth on a Step

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Jim Hodge
Moth on a Step

No idea, whatsoever, why this morning,
          when I stepped outside into vengeful heat,
and dodged a solitary moth on the porch step,
          that I thought of you.

Perhaps it was remembrances of photos you have sent?
     A gray Eastern Wood Peewee on a grey Beech,
     more stone than fibre, standing sentinel.
Clearly a Corinthian, crowned in Sugar Maple,
      and not Acanthus.

Or perhaps it was more a feeling of small feet on layered slate,
     bathed in the headwaters of the Cuyahoga, surrounded in bladder fern,
          cushioned by obliging Helodium.

None-the-less, there I was staring at a grey moth that sought the shade,
    that surely thought, ‘I can do that… I can do cement’, and then she did.

Timothy Liu – Reciprocity

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Timothy Liu
Reciprocity

The chickens eat the ticks
in our neighbour’s yard.

We eat their eggs,

breasts, thighs, white
or dark meat all batter

fried. The goats eat

the poison ivy spreading
down the path that leads

to the boat ramp beside

a finger lake. We drink
their milk, eat their cheese,

make stew out of tough

meat. Do not call this
fair trade. My cock shrinks

at the thought, choking

on guzzled greenhouse
gasses. It’s 2022. We

have less than ten years

to make this right.
2222 seems impossible

to imagine. I should be

dead by 2052, 2062,
maybe a lot sooner if I

don’t change my ways.

Can somebody help me?
I want to stop eating

chicken, goat, tuna—

the Lebanese pound
trading at 27,000

to the dollar on the black

market—white and blue
collar workers cutting

down its famed cedars

for fuel—forests the size
of the Crusades to be

levelled in just three or

four years. Mommy,
Daddy, does stagflation

count? Birthday party

hats on sale at Walmart
while supply chains last—

gas at an all-time high.

Uchechukwu Onyedikam – Home

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Uchechukwu Onyedikam
Home

the cry from that groaning belly
wrinkled with hunger may end,
but the tears collected with
the basket of hope will not be
contained in the faith of that
roofless man open to the
sky of vulnerability.

these men on a political agenda
of restoring ‘home’ unto you
that we spite ourselves for,
still shake hands behind
our eyes—and in our faces—
too lazy to see that home has
been razed by these vain men.

this homelessness may end and
that lone woman engaging in petty
trading, whose bambooed kiosk finds
her at nightfall with her young offspring
making shelter beneath the shadow
of the moonlight.

that grown-looking girl who’s
only 13yo, a run-away Love who
fled her forced marriage in search
of a home in a lie—finding life’s
meaning in the red light district.

this Land is in another man’s hand
abducted by strangers with bombs
and guns. we are all homeless
roaming on desolate Land with
no home to retire to when the
owl hoots, perching on the
crescent moon.

Polly Brown – Laddie

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Polly Brown
Laddie

Laddie had dug a hole under the fence,
so I followed him out. He wanted only
to sniff around, but I figured I’d go

down to see Grammy and the cows.
Folks travelling west, coming back
from Skowhegan Fair, found a small

solid person less than two years old
walking east, and a collie circling,
barking like mad. My parents first

heard our adventure from a stranger
at the door (This your baby?) and now
might be charged with negligence.

But I grew up hearing how far, even
then, I’d take an inspiration—and what
good sense of Laddie, to warn the others.