Matryoshka Poetry
The poems on these pages will soon be added to an archive magazine. If your poems are included here, or on the Visual Poetry page, they will automatically be available in a magazine format. Keep watching this space for more updates.
hollyhocks in rain
remember the scarlet sun
flower embers glow
little green men on stilts
play in the garden
fiddles unwinding
coming and going
silent light clap shakes the sea
two ends of the day
fire rainbow
arches cloud to cloud
unharnessed
restless ocean
a coiled snake
pauses between waves
Ingrid Bruck, a nature poet and wildflower gardener, lives in Pennsylvania Amish country. Her short forms appear in Leaves of Ink, Halcyon Days, Unbroken Journal and Plum Tree Tavern.
Two pieces from Patricia McGovern
Unblemished pages
Purity unyielding.
The book within, is buried deep.
Jewels shimmer in sunshine,
Distant diamonds,
Windows of the tower block.
Three from Louise Peters
Resting coracles
atop the water. Picture
the wonder below.
​
Morning page: watch me
gaze across brightening sky and
gather drifting dreams.
See how my heart glides
sliding under your stare to
a place you can't know.
Lilac scent fades
as summer rain stirs roses,
soft, sweet - mm, breathe deep.
A Spine Haiku Poem
Karen Barton
Public Library,
Ali Smith
A Brief History of the Future,
John Naughton
Lost in the Funhouse,
John Barth
Two more by Karen Barton
grey and yellow sky
heat haze thickens, clouds play drums,
lightening cleaves the air
A white cup, ringed, stained
Vermillion with beetroot.
My soup of the day
Karen Barton is an emerging poet and art historian living in a dilapidated quarryman's cottage in the heart of Wiltshire. In her previous existence she was a reporter for Salsa World Magazine and arts reviewer for local radio. Her work has been published a The Curly Mind, Quatrain Fish, I Am Not A Silent Poet amongst others.
One by Jill Cooper
Talking hands
Waving swaying blathering

With a cathartic sway

Burning up the words

With just a flourish of the hand,
Embellishing the truth

Striking at the sky

To embellish an enormous lie

Like sheets flapping in the breeze,
Telling the tale while moving the air

With a fabulous fanfare

Fervently flailing,
Gesturing, gesticulating

Eventually resting sleeping

No more to be said
Dragonflies
morning settles
spreads its arms
gathers the lake waters
into streaks of sunlight
you swim between
warm green and cool skin
blue, yellow eyed dragonflies
swoop
hang in the air
hover
land on reeds
jutting from the edges
their wide eyes
stare at you
marble like
you follow their
wavering blueness
deep in the lake
into blacker water
you’re treading
to stay afloat
sends ripples
to the shore
the dragonfly buzzes
in circles
swoops through the haze
lake weed, waterlilies
deepening mud
at lake bottom
One morning
you catch me
unaware
with a sweet
hungry kiss
that swallows me
and you undo your hair
your skin drizzles down
like a soft rain shower
the touch of your fingers
on my naked chest
your heartbeat
awakening
and the sun
bathes our bodies
fiery passion gushes
like a waterfall
after the spring melt
Jay S Zimmerman, is a visual artist and poet resides in Muncie, Indiana His work appears in Three Line Poetry, Flying Island, New Verse News and the Rats Ass Review.