CONGRATULATIONS
To all of the following writers -
Beckie Jordan - Drink Poison Desires (Poetry)
Charlie Benson - Andy’s Angel Awakens (Prose)
Chris Parvin - Carnival (Prose)
Claire Walker - Haunted (Poetry)
Eva Marie Wilshere - Trust (Poetry)
Fikayo Francisca Balogun - The Boy That Cried Wolf (Poetry)/Red Christmas (Poetry)
Frankie Lewis - Nightmare (Prose)
Gavin J R - Dirty Fingernails (Poetry)
Ireti Odugbesan - Heavy Elements (Poetry)
Jack Oughton - Haiku x3 (Poetry)
James Rice - Nine (Prose)
Jamie Bunting - Untitled (Prose)
Katherina Maria Malinowski - Lake (Prose)
Michael Holloway - They Were All Ridiculous (Prose)
Nick Sadler - Hands (Prose)
Nicola Hawcroft-Heighway - Tory In A Yellow Tie (Poetry)
Rachel Betteridge - Severed Souls Part Three
Robyn Donaldson - B (Poetry)
Sarah Crewe - this pony will self-destruct (Poetry)
Sarah Tarbit - Butterflies and Hurricanes (Prose)/Belonging (Prose)
Simon Armstrong - The Zombie Whores (Prose)
Terry Naylor - Impact In: (Prose)
Zakk Appleyard - Rock Talk With God (Poetry)
You will be published in the third issue of PIYE Magazine. We will be in contact in the next few days to discuss editing and illustrations.
We received excellent submissions from all of you and to those who didn’t make it into this issue - don’t despair! There’s always next time.
Ode to Him
The Promise
Ode to him
Criss-crossed pathways
Across oceans and trade ways
Divided arbitrarily by lines
On rectangular shapes
Mimicking a vast circulitude
No matter the fortune
Of their tongues emanating
Tones of respective continents
We must love the hues
The inception
Central in nature
The clutching Roots existence
Questioned by evergreen leaves
The inception
Central in nature
The clutching roots presence
Doubted by evergreen Leaves
Leaves with their tempting the Sun
With beautiful promises
With light as the currency
Of exchange
The contentions
The questions
And so…
We promise
African Man
To be the bark inbetween
We promise
African Man
To mediate between the Leaves and your Roots
We promise
African Man
As descendents
We must love the hues
the internal soul
the external soul
Within
-Kadijah Ndoye
Poetry
Comfort to the whine
Comfort to the complaint
It takes time for hostage
It lassos time to heart’s content
So I dare say
We are pagans to
the Religion of Poetry
I dare say
Poetry is a religion
We don’t worship
Atleast not fully
Not as the holy hones its power
But reminiscent of the six-day sinner
And the one-day praiser
When man wrings our central organ
We bleed loss, contempt, regret
On to spiraled notebooks
And lowly diner napkins
Only to be shared with
the healed, nay bandaged us
Walking Earth hoping to hit Earth.
I IMPLORE YOU, I IMPLORE US
To broaden its functionality
Use Poetry in glee
In Sadness
In Politcs
In Love
In Change
In essence,
let the Religion of Poetry
touch all of you
Oh, I think I just got published...
Just got Issue #1 of Party In Your Eye-Socket’s first anthology through the mail. It arrived in the most exquisite packaging; carefully wrapped and bound with string - it even came with a badge. The presentation of the whole anthology is brilliantly well designed.
I guess this now means that I can go around saying I’m a published poet. I can almost feel my ego bulging at its bindings.
Hey guys!
We’re in a bit of a pickle at the moment, Luke’s laptop has died so work on issue #3 has come to a standstill until he can get it fixed. It’s a pain because we can’t wait for you guys to see all the stuff we’ve got in it, the standard just gets higher and higher. Anyway, we’ll keep you in the loop but hopefully that’ll be sorted soon enough.
In the meantime, we will still continue to accept submissions for our next print issue from our British writers BUT we’re also accepting work for our online archive from everyone, so get sending your stuff in!
Our inbox is always open, so feel free to contact us if you fancy a chat.
Keep writing,
Ionie
Tick Tock
Tick Tock
Went the analog clock
Skinny legs entwined
upon red floral sheets
Appearance so gruff
Tender to mine touch
Behind black see through screens
To mask 1,2,3 screams
4 was a laugh too fragile to be squeezed
One foot in
Oh! Such shiny boots
To see mine reflection
And to view
View part of the half to me
An endearing gift
Oh! I hope this to never shift
Face In
Predecessors with marks
Marks like his
Belonged to me
The kind never to be feigned
Until this unfaithful day
Tock Tick
Tock Tick
Went the brain
When It wasn’t mine
His hair too shaggy
Face too plump
Impossible to mine
Tick
Right hand corner
A name present there
Elmer, it read
Tock
The final straw left
Unfinally in my memory
Dear It,
I must praise
Indiscernible from a plumber
Yet I love thee more
Distained by 1,2,3
Yet 4 loves you more
But no more
What qualities must I possess?
No need to share
Hunches I have made
1. Shape shifter
2. Con Artist
3. Feigned lover (1 and 2)
To part smoothly is never to part
I’ll part roughly as to part
-Kadijah Ndoye
Astral Projection:
Tectonic plates conceal a sphere of grace.
A pall of starry worlds sing;
applaud their chorus,
with lightening pace.
Black out,
left doubting
the sol survivor
of a temporal anomaly – kept,
at best,
hidden.
Weiß grins grind in
fear of attack.
Hundred herz beat with wondrous voltage.
A buzz begets a dragon’s breath
canvas – drifts with adages
old and mist,
schwarz und licht.
Gold groves arc past cracked floors –
Oh, what colours we are;
black,
silver
and star.
Astral Projection - Blurb:
I figured it was about time I actually posted something of actual literary worth. Having already professed to ‘write things’ I hereby present to you, dear reader, a ‘thing’ that I have ‘written’. It was published in Issue 1 of PIYE Magazine, a melodious publication whose base of operations you can find HERE. So yes, I’ll go and post that poem in a separate post just to let it stand alone from all this blurb.
Cus Piye Iki?
Masih banyak bahkan hampir semua tidak termasuk ‘wajar’ atau ‘pantas’, dan baru sadar juga sih. Sebenernya apa sih? Aku tau tapi ga tau kenapa kayak males banget susah payah mikirin ini itu yang bisa ngerubah.
Aku sedih, sedih banget lihat aku sekarang, selama ini. Baik sih, bahagia (katanya), tapi kok gak ngebawa ke arah yang positif ya? Sedikit, mungkin. Lewat pertanyaan-pertanyaan yang terlontar dari seseorang bahkan yang lain.
“Udah berapa kali kayak gini?”
“…”
“Pertama A, terus yang itu B, terus C, terus siapa itu yang dicium?”
*deg*
Satu dari sejuta pertanyaan. Terus, kak. Kamu tau kan semuanya tentang aku? Tapi ada satu hal yang belum kamu tau loh kak. Ada. Bahkan ga ada satupun yang tau. Dari dulu pingin banget cerita. Tapi setiap mau cerita, otakku ga sanggup mencerna harus mulai dari mana. Dan selalu ada yang tersaring dan akhirnya ga sampai di tujuan awal. Dan akhirnya, NANGIS.
Kamu baik. Tapi apa akan baik-baik saja kalau aku akhirnya cerita? Apa kamu masih baik? Apa kamu masih anggep aku adik? Apa kamu masih sayang dan ngejaga adikmu ini? Apa kamu masih masih mau nyamperin kalo aku kelaperan dan nraktir aku ngejus? Mie ayam? Degan? Apa kamu masih mau dengerin keluh kesahku? Apa kamu masih sabar nungguin aku berhenti nangis?
Aku bahkan ga bisa maafin diriku sendiri. Terus piye iki tuips, tumblips, facebips? Aku diem aja deh sampai semua bener-bener hilang.
