Category / Poetry / Spring 2023 / Spring 2023 Poetry

Sam Spring is best known for his songwriting work in the musical duo “Tennis Club” with their song, “Morning” eclipsing 5,000,000 plays on Spotify alone. The 26-year-old has just started sending out work in the hopes of connecting with more like-minded people.

Casey Killingsworth has work in The American Journal of Poetry, Two Thirds North, and other journals. He has two books of poems, A Handbook for Water (Cranberry Press 1995) and A nest blew down (Kelsay Books 2021). Casey has a Master’s degree from Reed College.

Billy Thrasher is a graduate of the MFA program at Lindenwood University. He writes at home, at the coffee shop, at the park, and in his car during lunch breaks. The simple, brief moments in life catch his attention and spark his creativity. He has written works in Moon Magazine, Lagom: A Journal, Jennymag, Dovecote,…

EJ Bowman is an English teacher and writer from CA. Bowman has recently been named a finalist for both the DeBiase Poetry Prize and the Florida Review 2021 Editor’s Choice Award; Bowman was also long listed for the Exeter Short Story Award. This summer, Bowman finished a writers residency at the Rockvale Writers Colony in…

Hayden Hobby works as a worship artist and writer of songs, poetry and liturgy in Richmond Virginia where he lives with his wife Elena. Hayden is currently in grad school studying Theopoetics and Writing while also working on a guide book for small group worship.

Scott Piner is a husband, father, Sunday School teacher, magician, and poet who would like to share his poetry with the readers. He hopes it is enjoyed!

Zach Beach, MA is an international yoga teacher, best-selling author, poet, love coach, founder of The Heart Center love school, and host of The Learn to Love Podcast. He is the author of the Amazon best-seller The Seven Lessons of Love and two poetry collections, his first is entitled Drinking Roses on Sunday and his…

Nicole Farmer is a writer and teacher living in Asheville, NC. Her poems have been published in The Sheepshead Review, The Bangalore Review, The Roadrunner Review, Wild Roof Journal, Bacopa Literary Review, The Great Smokies Review, Kakalak Review, 86 Logic, Wingless Dreamer and others. Her play 50 JOBS was produced in Los Angeles. Nicole has…

We drove a Jeep down the bumpy hillto the lake where we swam in baggy shorts and t-shirts, tangled up in stringy plants,covered with seeds and pods. It rained as we slept in the lake house,tucked inside its paneled walls and tin roof. In the morning we drank Folger’swith hazelnut coffee-mate in brown speckled mugs…

Jaclyn Santella is a current undergraduate student at Eastern Connecticut State University. She is studying English with a concentration in creative writing. Along with being in the English honors society on campus, she also competes at the NCAA D3 level for women’s basketball. She has a passion for writing, with a focus on short stories…

Grounded I remove my shoes, lean back to watch the clouds converging. I miss cruising up there through vapor layers. I miss the sun, in blazes under a plane wing. Earthbound, I satisfy my distance hungers tracing a finch’s quick urges in the apple tree. The althea drops another spent blossom. A dandelion seed drifts…

The train took us back in time, traveling from snow-capped trees, frozen rivers, ice like spears— journeying into a sunset which burst on our cloud-worn eyes, spring-like, barely remembered. Here, the waters streaked with white were coloured by the wind, not ice. Bushes unburied themselves. Cold-mantled trees bared their arms, stretched frozen fingers sunward, dared…

First, decide if you are an ocean person— Highway 101— an inland person—Route 66— a person who needs to be somewhere fast—I-95— or a person with no place to go— U. S. 83, The Road to Nowhere The destination doesn’t matter, philosophers say. It’s how you get there that counts, there being death and right…

My lips, made of stars, will open eyes. Do not fear. I do not pick forgotten flowers nor mourn years, like apples, rotten on the ground. Look up, my love, there is no land, no forest left to burn. We are light and heat, the lightest dust, knitted into one Laine Derr holds an MFA…

Night reveals itself. I drenched the bed with fear and now through the open window, I let darkness dry skin of the fully woken, yet amazed body to the racket of aroused traffic and seagulls fishing in waste bins across the parking lot. It is the time when living things come back to life. It…

If you go to the Kalahari    try to arrive in the deep desert    well into the dark of night    when the black is an impenetrable    screen all around you when eyes are forced upward    to find light    to the thick blanket        of stars, so bright        you cannot…

Earthworms are the veins of the earth. The proof is their souls carved on the ground during drought. Ground Dragons, as they are called in the Far East. While dragons mean everything in China: The root of a mountain is a throbbing dragon pulse; The place where the emperor resides is where the dragon lies.…

If I could be anywhere, I would be sundrenched, On the beaches of the Mediterranean, Bordered by orange and lemon trees, Sprawling green leaves In vases of white and blue, Looking out on a terrace At the teal coverlets of ocean, Its long dress unspooling In waves onto the sand That cradles my toes, Without…

She was seven years old and with her was her ever-following imaginary friend A wisp It’s real she says Nobody believes her but I do Because I have seen the other side Nobody gives her any attention Because of this fantasy they say But I know what’s real I know she sees something Nobody understands…