ISSN 1551-8086
return to home search for a contributing writer

seach for poems by title

archive of previous issues submissions information mailing list online store links to other interesting sites contact us  
  November 2015
volume 12 number 2
-table of contents-
 
  home   (archived)
 
  contributing poets
  Sheikha A.
  M.I Akande
  Gwyndyn Alexander
  Prerna Bakshi
  Gary Beck
  Stefanie Bennett
  Deborah Edler Brown
  Jeffrey Bryant
  Terry Clark
  Robin Wyatt Dunn
  Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi
  Hedy Habra
  Dave Houston
  Trista Hurley-Waxali
  Robert S King
  Marie Lecrivain
  Emma Lee
  Ron Lucas
  Frank Mundo
  Scott Thomas Outlar
  Angel Uriel Perales
  James G Piatt
  Frank Praeger
  Hattie Quinn
  John D Robinson
  john saunders
  Apryl Skies
  Julia Stein
  Jonathan Taylor
  Amy Uyematsu
  J.T. Whitehead
 
  home
  poets
  poems
  archive
  submissions
  mailing list
  store
  links
  contact
   
Robert S King
November 2015
   

 

bio


photo by mauricio alejandro ramos

    Robert S. King lives in Athens, GA, where he serves on the board of FutureCycle Press. His poems have appeared in hundreds of magazines, including Atlanta Review, California Quarterly, Chariton Review, Hollins Critic, Kenyon Review, Main Street Rag, Midwest Quarterly, Negative Capability, Southern Poetry Review, and Spoon River Poetry Review. He has published eight poetry collections, most recently Diary of the Last Person on Earth (Sybaritic Press 2014) and Developing a Photograph of God (Glass Lyre Press, 2014). His personal website is robertsking.titletrack.net.
Robert S King

   

 

Under the Black Light

A forgotten graveyard's fog
lost the sun and moon long ago.
Ears and minds wander here
guided by the touch of darkness.
Minds change here where an owl's
cold call turns to caw, and a cat's
purr turns to dirge.

Nothing flies beneath the night's
black mask. Nothing has enough
shape to have a name, but touch sees
hard stones as rows of broken teeth
and low-hanging vines tangle
as loose ends of a story.

A crow could not see his shadow
in this haze thick as spiderwebs
whose nets cannot break a fall.

But when blind eyes adjust
to darkness, they can read between
invisible lines, and the silk shroud
reflects a memory of moonlight
that ties together the living and lost.

copyright 2015 Robert S King