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A Woman of Good Hard Hands-Poem by Otto Burnwell
Abduction-Poem by Jimmy Broccoli
Jitterbug-Poem by Robert Beveridge
Abandoned House-Poem by John Short
The Beauty of Trees-Poem by Ann Marie Rhiel
Regrets-Poem by David Spicer
Hospital on the Hill-Poem by Stephen J. Golds
Panic Attack-Poem by Kevin Ribshman
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Empty-Poem by Connor Orrico
Endless-Poem by Connor Orrico
Effort-Poem By Connor Orrico
Corpulent Octave-Poem by Harris Coverley
Small Town Story-Poem by Harris Coverley
Dans le Bain-Poem by Harris Coverley
Many Surprises-Poem by Walter Ruhlmann
In Another Waiting Room-Poem by Walter Ruhlmann
Innocent Blood-Poem by Walter Ruhlmann
Ebola-Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
I Am an Organ Donor-Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
Just Part of the Food Chain-Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
Today's Adventure-Poem by John Grey
Creating the Master race-Poem by John Grey
In the Old Mansion-Poem by John Grey
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ALAT
Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

82_ym_innocentblood_tbutler.jpg
Art by Terry Butler 2020

Innocent Blood

 

for Marlene T.

 

by Walter Ruhlmann

 

 

She makes me think of a bird:

not one with wide wings

spanning yards when it flies.

No. She hides behind her books

and she looks like a sparrow,

a robin or a swift.

She knows when seasons shift,

when time has come to play dead

or imagine the tide

invading her brain or flooding her heart.

 

We met through shorts and lines,

it was in Spring maybe,

this is not so clear now.

She came covered in snow,

she had written something on the back of her hands,

under her blue eyelids,

she had strange eyelashes.

 

She knows how to seduce me with words,

all these precious gems she affords.

 

Lately, the dark rhymes she sent

pierced my soul, deeper than expected,

recent feeling I resented feeling.

I don't blame her for that

she only shared her art

masterly crafted, issued from the tips

of her fingers, from the depths

of her spirits and from the strength

of her rage.

 

 

 

Walter Ruhlmann works as an English teacher, edits Datura, Beakful and Urtica. He has published close to thirty chapbooks and poetry collections both in French and English, and hundreds of poems worldwide. His blogs http://thenightorchid.blogspot.fr/ and https://nightorchidsselectedpoems.blogspot.com/


Terry Butler lives in the country, near a small town south of San Jose, CA called Hollister. He used to write steadily, publishing both in print and online as Terence Butler, but after some health issues, the energy needed to write seemed to dissipate somewhat. He has been a professional photographer and a painter/collage-assemblage maker for most of his working life, so painting and photo art have taken the place of genre fiction as an outlet. Recently the story “Fire Man” appeared all as a piece in his mind so he simply wrote it down. He sent it to Cindy, and in the ensuing back and forth. They somehow discussed using some of his visual art, too. Cindy is simply the best, and a real stalwart in this little world. She has a big heart and a deep love for animals, too!

In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications 2020