New Poetry by Michele Seminara

Christmas Passing

travelling home on Christmas Day
full hearts and bellies straining
bush teeming on either side
of this glistening snake of humanity
from the front seat a few sighs 
and then the benevolent curtain of rain parts
to let Great Uncle Tommy pass 
through


- Michele Seminara 2014

Bluepepper would like to take this opportunity to wish all poetry-lovers a happy new year and a peaceful, prosperous and inspired 2015.

New Poetry by Dawnell Harrison

A party

The rocks in my front yard

are gemmed with rain -

a mill of raindrops battle
with the forecast bruising

the sky purple and black.

A party at my house -

the human beehive buzzes
in one at a time as they

lay their needs on me.

My heart is too small

for such desires.

I smile as if I truly care

as the headlights of cars
trail down the street.

- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Fresh pain

The rain marbles the sky
grey and black as the wind

blows my golden hair sideways -

tussles cling to my maroon lipstick.

My baby scrubs the air raw with her

blood red cries,

always wanting something that

I sometimes cannot undo.

Perhaps she holds fresh pain
in her soul that only God

can comprehend.

We move forward.

- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Tiger lilies

The moon frowns on me -

I disappoint her.

Six tiger lilies sit
in a tubular vase

on the kitchen counter.

They are too wild for me -

their spots throw me
off balance.

They seem to lean on me

as their open mouths

say feed me.

I have nothing to feed them -

these beasts inhabiting
my house, my eyes,

my luke-warm assurances
from the world.


- Dawnell Harrison 2014

Dawnell has  been published in over 200 magazines and journals including Queen's Quarterly, Fowl Feathered Review, Nerve Cowboy, and many others.  She has also had five books of poetry published entitled Voyager, The maverick posse, The fire behind my eyes, The love death, and The color red does not sleep.

New Poetry by Les Wicks

Formication Fridays

As someone

who was certain

in this gangrel

runaway beige

thanked them

realtors & lords

shot.

If money

can be sharp

then I’m lost.

Ants sweetheart

(dead abnormal).

So back to please

don’t pay

this wrapping

I know.

In strength

you are away

so I comprehend cold

& crash the tides.

Get away with silence,

defeat the mouth.

Shelter is a rough binary,

but it’s not worth it.

- Les Wicks 2014

Les Wicks is a widely published Sydney poet.

New Poetry by Daniel Barbare

Mother Cooking

Mother eats watermelon.
Watching the news. Talking
the whole while. Goes
back to the bedroom.
Comes back wearing pajamas.
Boils corn and slices fresh Blue
Ridge
tomatoes. Fries chicken. While
biting her tongue. The house
smells delicious. The
oil is just a crackling. The
kitchen is quiet. It’s ready.

- Daniel Barbare 2014

Roadside Stand

Labor Day.  Coming down
the Blue Ridge Mountains. Sun
on our backs. Gravel
drive. Dust flying off the wheels.
Looking at squash, fuzzy
whole okra, green beans. Tomatoes
soft enough to slice this evening.
Wildflower honey,  pickled beets,
bread and butter pickles, dill and
garlic. Mother buys sweet
potatoes.
And peaches to soften in the
kitchen
window. I buy three plump and
red tomatoes for $2.00.

- Daniel Barbare 2014

Danny P. Barbare resides in the Upstate of the Carolinas. He works as a janitor at a local YMCA. And has been writing poetry off and on for 33 years. He says he enjoys the cold weather in the South and taking long walks especially if it snows. His poetry is mostly about what ever strikes him at the time.

New Poetry by Colin Dodds

The Urgent Center Expands

The urgent center expands,
takes the newspaper as its skin.

As it went in history,
so ran the NFC wildcard game.
The religiopolitical Saints
overran the astrological Rams.

Aside from that, the story was familiar and unchanged.

The linemen were terrifying,
though easily persuaded, hulks.

The receivers were handy
with the razor and the getaway.

The running backs went straight home
and would be foremen someday.

And the quarterback was the driven patrician
with nothing but an immense promise
and an immense burden for a life.



- Colin Dodds 2014

Colin Dodds grew up in Massachusetts and completed his education in New York City. He’s the author of several novels, including WINDFALL and The Last Bad Job, which the late Norman Mailer touted as showing “something that very few writers have; a species of inner talent that owes very little to other people.” Dodds’ screenplay, Refreshment, was named a semi-finalist in the 2010 American Zoetrope Contest. His poetry has appeared in more than a hundred publications, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He lives in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife Samantha. You can find more of his work at thecolindodds.com.