Poetry, Prose and Art Journal
Multilingual, Multicultural, Interdisciplinary Web Edition

Edited and published by Steven Duplij

Joyce Carbone
Arcadia, USA

Immortality-our plague?

Inside tiny center
Internal nucleus
Eternal flame
Universality replicates
Piles protective onion skin layers
Succours senses
Leads one to another
On a direct collision course;
A command coloratura -

Twin internal nuclei
Coalesce fuse ignite
Spark combust
An agitation of light and heat -

A tiny center
Of eternal flame unfurls
Life everlasting
Universality replicated
Again and again


There is no light

There is no light
Without the night,
No voice without true sound.

A blue tear in rooted rock
Reveals a mountain lake -
A green hallelujah of trees
Brushing the breeze,
The backbone
Of ancient splendid hills.

Without your voice
A lonely loon cries inside my heart.

Without the night,
Sunlight fuses swollen lids,
Blots out the light
Of blinding revelation;

Mountains are land uprooted,
But rocky hearts
Moltingly throb within.


Black widow's weeds

Are unbecoming,
Push away the light
Smother mind and soul flickers.

Black widowed weeds
Burnish rust -
Intellect needs patterned brilliance
Now shoved to rear of bus.

Black widowed weeds
Pales flesh cataracts eyes
Against dancing colored sky
Twirling ecstatic emerald
Toward deeper sailor blue.

He hated black -
So do I -

Black widow's weeds
Are subterranean subterfuge,
Artifice world invented
By fugitives
Unforgiving to those
Left behind.


Spells and incantations

A body casts a spell; Ommm!

A shadow lingers over the berry patch,
Nude brambles
Iced by winter's furious thorns
Need bodies to snatch
Not spells to scratch
Inside orwellian bramble patch -


Coldly fleeced,
Defrocked and shorn; Ommm!
Crimson path awaits,
Forgotten and forlorn; Ommm!
For the final raspberry body
Attached stubbornly,
Browned on life's vine,
To fall



Something Tells Me

you and i
will last for more
than the hour -
forever perhaps?
egocentric this thought?
ah yes, but all of life
is clustered around
a nucleus of a thought.
warmth radiates from you
outward collides
connects with me
and i suck it up

Hammer That Thought Home

and it will stick
like last night's molasses
to the roof of your mouth,
the nail hammered
into a coffin firmly
made for the centuries -
ese finesse
and it will mold
becoming as if another
layer of one's own

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© 1996 by Steven Duplij