light – Foxglove Journal

Soft W – Kristy Snedden

She perks up her heads

and debates which exit

to use. A few consonants

run for my throat but the vowels

want to journey through

my heart, get polished

by the oxygen rich blood

flow into the crowded world.

Now the consonants talk

to each other and to my throat

which makes guttural noises

and feels lost without vowels.

But the ws come, wanting

who, where, what, when.

With soft puffs of air

and a whoosh they blow

the letters out of my mouth.

Like magnets the vowels

and consonants pull to

each other and rearrange

themselves by the relativity

of the morning light.

And there she is, ushering

me out of granite into form.

Kristy Snedden has been a trauma psychotherapist for forty-plus years. She began writing poetry in June 2020. Her work appears or is forthcoming in various journals and anthologies, including Snapdragon, The Examined Life Journal, Open Minds Quarterly, Pensive, and Anti-Heroin Chic. She is a 2024 Pushcart Prize nominee. In her free time, she can be found hiking in the Appalachian Mountains near her home or hanging out with her husband listening to their dogs tell tall tales. You can follow her on Instagram @kristy_snedden_poetry.

March 6, 2023 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: air, communication, consonants, creation, creative, creativity, elements, form, journey, Kristy Snedden, language, letters, light, magnets, poem, Poetry, sound, speech, talk, US, vowels, word, writing Leave a comment

fog fall – Martin Potter

stepped inside to sidestep

a throat-tickle chill in the air

an hour later fog fell

haze of night had smothered

murk-wise the tight street

only your own echoes

bounce off walls pavement

resonant but ghosted out

lamp-glare haunts the home-walk

Martin Potter (https://martinpotterpoet.home.blog) is a British-Colombian poet and academic, based in Manchester, and his poems have appeared in Acumen, The French Literary Review, Eborakon, Ink Sweat & Tears, The Poetry Village, and other journals. His pamphlet In the Particular was published in 2017.

February 22, 2023 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: air, chill, creative, creativity, echoes, elements, fog, ghost, haunting, lamp, light, Manchester, Martin Potter, night, place, poem, Poetry, street, time, UK, walk, weather, writing Leave a comment

The Wave – Kristy Snedden

A wave curled over my bed

last night, fell into the center of my body,

surf ran through each cell.

The words I was saving for today

Washed away leaving empty space.

It was warm, like that glow around

The waning crescent moon.

Kristy Snedden has been a trauma psychotherapist for thirty-five plus years. She began writing poetry in June 2020. Her poem “Dementia,” was awarded an Honorable Mention in the 90th Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition. Her work appears or is forthcoming in various journals and anthologies, most recently Snapdragon, Open Minds Quarterly, The Power Of The Pause Anthology, and The Examined Life. She is a student at Phillip Schultz’s Writers Studio. When she isn’t working, reading, or writing poetry, she can be found hiking in the Appalachian Mountains near her home or hanging out with her husband listening to their dogs tell tall tales.

October 21, 2022 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: bed, cell, creative, creativity, curl, elements, glow, Kristy Snedden, light, moon, nature, night, poem, Poetry, saving, space, surf, US, warmth, water, wave, words, writing Leave a comment

all – Mark Goodwin

all

washed from

land-rim through

sea’s miles

-high-sky &

fathoms-deep

twined

light

Mark Goodwin is a poet-sound-artist, and speaks & writes in various ways. He is also a walker, balancer, stroller, & climber. He has a number of books & chapbooks with various poetry houses, including Leafe Press, Longbarrow Press, Nine Arches Press, & Shearsman Books. His poetry was included in The Ground Aslant – An Anthology of Radical Landscape Poetry edited by Harriet Tarlo (Shearsman Books 2011) and The Footing edited by Brian Lewis (Longbarrow Press 2013). His latest chapbook – a compressed mountain travelogue called Erodes On Air – was recently published in North America by Middle Creek. Mark lives with his partner on a narrowboat just north of Leicester. He tweets poems from @kramawoodgin, and some of his sound-enhanced poetry is here: https://markgoodwin-poet-sound-artist.bandcamp.com.

May 8, 2022May 8, 2022 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: all, creative, creativity, depth, distance, earth, elements, fathoms, land, landscape, Leicester, light, Mark Goodwin, miles, nature, poem, poet, Poetry, sea, sky, UK, wash, writing Leave a comment

Swallows – John Muro

Easy to envy

their erratic

exuberance

ascending with

scythe-like wings

in fevered flight,

rounding rooftops

and the crowns

of trees before

returning like

blind oracles

with a divine

purpose and

grim prophecies

to share. Their

delirious arrivals

and farewells

blend then blur

into fleur-de-lis

pivots and pirouettes,

chevron tails split

apart like lengthy

shears slicing through

charmed circles of

air moments before

their tiny throats

of glossy indigo

morph into embers

as daylight falls

upon the tongues

of tides just catching

the last wink of sun.

A resident of Connecticut, John is a graduate of Trinity College, Wesleyan University and the University of Connecticut. In the Lilac Hour, his first volume of poems, was published in 2020 by Antrim House, and it is available on Amazon. His poems have been published, or are forthcoming, in journals including Euphony, Moria, Penumbra, River Heron, Sheepshead, Third Wednesday, Amethyst Review, High Window, Poetica Review and the French Literary Review. John is also a two-time 2021 Pushcart Prize nominee.

February 13, 2022 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: air, animals, arrival, birds, Connecticut, creative, creativity, CT, flight, indigo, John Muro, light, nature, poem, poet, Poetry, purpose, swallows, tails, trees, US, wings, writing Leave a comment

You’re so cool – Anna Idelevich

A tear mist stettled on the city

and I can’t see, I don’t write for show-off,

I’m driving on the night road of interconnections, you can’t see

point blank,

but it is audible, audible as if the stars are pouring ointments,

on the rustle.

I am one of them small, millionth.

Communication with you is nothing but needles,

but it’s dark in the car, I’m sitting lit up,

let’s say lit, but the Universe was not enough

gunpowder,

and it’s just a silhouette filled up with you

light, do not remove all the sadness from the stains,

and you can call for a long time and pull your hands into the distance.

Such a nebula over the city

illegal,

your colossus is reinforced concrete,

but the song sounds not funeral, but restless,

as if window tokens were nailed through the air to

rest,

and if there is no time, then there is neither river nor bank,

turn your head, I am parallel to you, to the fire and

time.

Anna Idelevich is a scientist by profession, Ph.D., MBA, trained in the neuroscience field at Harvard University. She writes poetry for pleasure. Her books and poetry collections include DNA of the Reversed River and Cryptopathos published by the Liberty Publishing House, NY. Anna’s poems were published by BlazeVOX, Louisville Review, Salmon Creek Journal, Bourgeon Magazine, In Parenthesis, O:J&A, Gyroscope Review among others. She hopes you will enjoy their melody, new linguistic tone, and a slight tint of an accent.

February 8, 2022 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: air, Anna Idelevich, city, communication, creative, creativity, distance, drive, elements, light, mist, poem, poet, Poetry, river, road, sadness, senses, song, sound, stars, time, writing Leave a comment

The tender pines – Robert Beveridge

It is not far, not far at all beyond

the city limits where the road ends,

even the tire tracks peter out amidst

the wild-grown grass surrounded

by trees, invisible from buildings.

Just enough room to park, lay out

a blanket, pitch a tent.

Off to one edge, a ring. I thought

at first of mushrooms. But no—

of snails, their variegated shells

ablaze in the afternoon light.

I read to them awhile, until the sun

was low enough that it was time

to gather wood. Whether they

enjoyed it I’ve no idea.

A fire just long enough to warm

ramps, mushrooms, beans, a chunk

of bread torn to pieces, then to bed

and dreams of snails who aspire

to write their first poems.

Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Blood and Bourbon, The Stratford Quarterly, and Stonecoast Review, among others.

January 16, 2022 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: Akron, creative, creativity, dreams, fire, food, landscape, light, nature, OH, pines, poem, poet, Poetry, road, Robert Beveridge, shells, snails, tender, time, trees, US, writing Leave a comment

Bogquilt – Jacob Riyeff

blue goose road at night

cuts thru bog country

streams of leaves

flow the road

and moats dogs

aflight, all

of them. gray

light purpling

the air. vertigo

round cedar-lined

curves. watching

for deer –

there – the moon

shines over acid

water, pitcher-plant

relics, my brow.

jacob riyeff is a translator, poet, and scholar of medieval literature. his work focuses on the western contemplative tradition and the natural world. jacob teaches in the english department at marquette university and lives in milwaukee’s east village.

December 12, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: air, animals, bog, colours, creative, creativity, elements, Jacob Riyeff, journey, landscape, light, Milwaukee, moon, nature, night, poem, poet, Poetry, road, US, water, WI, writing 1 Comment

Passing Colours – Martin Potter

Rail journey

Thickset windows fix

Fleeting landscape green-chill

Outside carriage warmth

A winter sun’s

Tentative intense

Strikes brushwood bark-bole

Bounces lemon curd

Off the trees’

December slumber skin

Insinuating dazzle

Lichen imbued light

Martin Potter (https://martinpotterpoet.home.blog) is a poet and academic, and his poems have appeared in Acumen, The French Literary Review, Eborakon, Scintilla, Ink Sweat & Tears, The Poetry Village, and other journals. His pamphlet In the Particular was published by Eyewear in December, 2017.

August 2, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: carriage, colours, creative, creativity, journey, landscape, lichen, light, Martin Potter, movement, nature, poem, Poetry, rail, sun, travel, trees, UK, view, warmth, windows, winter, writing Leave a comment

Baskett Slough III – Marc Janssen

The milk sun combs uncombed fields

While

An atonal chorus of geese concert invisibly directly overhead.

All around

The illusion of softness

In the graceful curving hill-scapes,

Rust carpets of oak leaves,

Before it is broken by an insincere tittering of human voices.

Marc Janssen lives in a house with a wife who likes him and a cat who loathes him. Regardless of that turmoil, his poetry can be found scattered around the world in places like Penumbra, Slant, Cirque Journal, Off the Coast and Poetry Salzburg. Janssen also coordinates the Salem Poetry Project, a weekly reading, the annual Salem Poetry Festival, and was a 2020 nominee for Oregon Poet Laureate.

July 16, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: birds, chorus, creative, creativity, elements, fields, geese, grace, hills, illusion, landscape, leaves, light, Marc Janssen, nature, poem, Poetry, senses, softness, sound, sun, US, voices, writing Leave a comment

Sunlight – Stephen Kingsnorth

The bulbs above –

their filaments,

the broken joints of spider legs –

hang lazy, washing on the line,

a sad parade unheeded now,

awaiting switch of energy,

electricity,

spark generation of the sun.

The bulbs below –

first snowdrops show,

hint cream and green above the snow,

the phototroph, explosive strength,

breaks crystal ice of brittle soil.

Then corms of crocus, specie, grow,

pale mauve or streaked,

bear stripes of war

from battle through harsh undergrowth,

spark generation of the sun.

Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church, has had over 250 pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies. Find more at https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com.

June 28, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: battle, bulbs, colours, creative, creativity, electricity, elements, energy, flowers, generation, growth, light, nature, poem, Poetry, snow, soil, spark, Stephen Kingsnorth, strength, sun, Wales, writing 1 Comment

The prints you laid – Gareth Culshaw

The coast elbowed the land

a sea came from afar

nudged the pebbles until they rolled.

We walked. Left a memory

in the road. I unclipped

the lead from my hand,

and you cut away the distance

between yourself and a gull.

I followed the earth’s golden dust

as you pounded the edge of land

and water.

An oystercatcher flicked up into the gulp.

I watched the sun on your fur

that carried light, put prints

in the sand before I got there.

I hope they’re still around to lead me

when I go back, alone.

Gareth lives in Wales. He has two collections by FutureCycle, The Miner & A Bard’s View. He is a current student at Manchester Met.

June 6, 2021June 6, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: coast, creative, creativity, distance, elements, Gareth Culshaw, light, loss, memory, movement, nature, past, pet, poem, Poetry, prints, road, sand, senses, sun, Wales, water, writing Leave a comment

Traces – Lorraine Carey

I have a friend

without fingerprints.

She worked in the corner shop

and the fact that her tips

lacked those delicate swirls

only came to light,

when takings didn’t tally

with receipts and the police

arrived to take prints.

Her innocence undisputed

and the culprit shown the door.

We said she was special,

unique, joked she’d make

a superb criminal,

with no evidence on door knobs,

or traces left behind,

tongues firmly in our cheeks

and elevated in an instant

she drifted from us

with our traceable whorls,

just ordinary girls,

nothing special.

Lorraine Carey’s an Irish poet from Co. Donegal. Her work is widely published in Poetry Ireland Review, Abridged, The Rising Phoenix Review, Constellate, Orbis, Prole, Smithereens, Porridge, The High Window, The Honest Ulsterman and Poetry Birmingham among others. She has poems forthcoming in Eunoia Review and One. A Pushcart Prize nominee, she has been placed and shortlisted in several competitions including Trocaire / Poetry Ireland, The Blue Nib Chapbook Competition, Listowel Writers’ Week, The Allingham Prize and was longlisted in The National Poetry Competition 2019. Her poems have been broadcast on local and national radio. Her debut collection is From Doll House Windows (Revival Press).

March 22, 2021March 22, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: creative, creativity, discovery, Donegal, fingerprints, fingers, friend, friendship, innocence, Ireland, light, Lorraine Carey, memory, ordinary, poem, Poetry, prints, shop, swirls, traces, whorls, work, writing Leave a comment

Interior design for fools – Demi Lloyd

Come and pick up your stuff by Thursday

or I’ll take it to the tip.

The voicemail repeats,

clanks round eardrums

I pull up, golden hour drips through,

glazes your ornaments. Bittersweet.

The white rabbit clock,

five minutes too fast.

I trace my fingers over the curves

of your sofa, green velvet hills

like last summer at the castle in Dover,

when we realised it might be over.

I look at your art for the last time,

shapes and maths, strong and clear.

My abstract dreamscape is

Decaying in a landfill

I collect what’s left of me.

Obnoxious orange and purple bags.

Full of the things you detested;

resting on your polished oak desk.

My wrist threads through the handles.

We could never thread love like that.

The cat, thrown from the cradle,

but she lands feet first.

Demi Lloyd recently gained a Masters degree in Creative Writing at Nottingham Trent University. She is part of a poetry group based in Nottingham called GOBS and is working towards her contribution to their spoken word showcase in March. In her spare time you can find her reading, listening to podcasts or thinking about cats.

March 2, 2021 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: art, bittersweet, castle, cat, clock, creative, creativity, Demi Lloyd, Dover, ending, landscape, light, love, memories, Nottingham, poem, Poetry, relationship, senses, time, UK, writing Leave a comment

Frosted petals – Jade Morgan

The hexagonal particles of ice are warming, crackling, melting. The earth is only damp on the top layer; underneath it is dry and compacting, offering warmth and protection to the roots during the night. The sky is changing from a deep, vast blue to a softer, yet still intense, shade. Light blue will then be met with blinding white, will be met with lemon, will be met with blazing orange.

“All in good time”, the twilight breathes. “All in good time”.

Changing shape, the icicles climb into themselves before dropping onto the floor with the gentlest of ‘plops’. The departure of the clinging frost, which the closed petals host each night, causes the most subtle movement. The petals are shaken awake, free and able to breathe. Shimmering in delight, they turn their bodies towards the East like a porcelain ballerina twirling on a spring in a jewellery box.

As promised by the twilight, the sky is getting lighter. The remaining night stars twinkle and bow once more, before ending their performance and closing their glimmer to sleep.

As the tip of the brilliant father sun peaks its face over the hills in the horizon, the rays crawl over the grass towards the petals. In unison, the petals stretch, yawn and open themselves to let in the light and nourishment. It is a brand new day.

Jade Morgan discovered her passion for writing when she was travelling overseas, hiking in New Zealand’s National Parks and Nepal’s Himalayan mountain region. Since her return to England, she has engaged in writing courses to delve more into her new found passion. From the writing courses, Jade has been finding enjoyment in revisiting her travel journals to create a travel writing book and writing flash fiction stories. When she is not doing this, you can find her hiking, reading, hugging trees or planning her next adventure.

September 6, 2020 by foxglovejournal Categories: flash fiction, Prose, UncategorizedTags: change, colours, creative, creativity, earth, elements, fiction, flash, flash fiction, frost, ice, Jade Morgan, light, nature, petals, Prose, senses, short, sky, story, UK, world, writing Leave a comment