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  April 2014
volume 11 number 1
-table of contents-
 
  home   (archived)
 
  contributing poets
  Scott Alexander
  Shawn Aveningo
  Jonathan Beale
  Jack G. Bowman
  Betsy Burke
  Matt Burns
  Shibani Chattopadhyay
  Rachel Coventry
  Tyler Dupuis
  Allison Grayhurst
  John Grochalski
  Hedy Habra
  Samantha Henderson
  Augustus Invictus
  Natalie Itzhaki
  Scott Jacobson
  Alex Johnson
  Mikel K
  Craig Kurtz
  Phillip Larrea
  N.M. Leepsa
  Anthony Magistrale
  Brendan McCormack
  Christopher Mulrooney
  Philip ONeil
  Ebi Robert
  Walter Ruhlmann
  April Salzano
  Jake Sheff
  Rishan Singh
  Julia Stein
  Allen Taylor
  Paul Tristram
  Wanda Vanhoy Smith
  Claire Walker
  Viola Weinberg
  Claire Williams
 
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Jonathan Beale
April 2014
   

 

bio


photo by mauricio alejandro ramos

    ( Jonathan Beale has 550 poems published in print and online in over 50 journals. His work can be found in such books as Drowning and The Poet as Sociopath (Scar publications).
    ( His first collection of poetry The Destinations of Raxiera, is published by Hammer & Anvil. (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Destinations-Raxiera-Jonathan-Beale-ebook/dp/B018F6GWQ6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1452199641&sr=1-1&keywords=jonathan+beale).
    ( His second volume is looking for a publisher and he is currently working on his third volume. Work recently published in Anti Heroin Chic, Dissident Voices, Red Fez, Sheepshead Review, Aphelion, Linnets Wing, and aaduna. He studied Philosophy and lives in Surrey.

   

 

Empiricism

Play ground kids - the rusty swing creaks
It tells a foreboding – they look
The answers are hovering like dragonflies
Magically in the air - majestic moments
Waiting – to be rediscovered.
Each fresh eye scents this moment
And can only ever really know

Each want of a sevenfold charm
Herded in the heart of the child
The horsedream is their mode that-
Gallop’s across the beach and along
Those separate lands. The one
Never to be revisited
Yet only know in minds air

The lure of graveyards, curses, eternity
Makes the pure day real -
The strange visitor about-to-turn-upon
And the other road is never travelled
Nor ever will be relayed nowhere.
Through the myth and the poems charm
Here lays the day.

The wooden table is there like a monument
It is perceived from all in their own avenue
Through their own road to their own truths
As they (now aged) remember the days
Before the beech and then the tidal life
They will all be drowned and washed upon
As their truths are relinquished back to the air.



copyright 2014 Jonathan Beale