BLUEPEPPER

  Bluepepper will be on the road over Christmas/New Year and so will be closed for submissions until 3rd January 2023. Seasons greetings and...

Birds Terror Birds Bird songs come from terror They are screams And cries of fear Each note a desperation Every tune a panic Melodies are bu...

Loneliness is a Killer In the small room you rent  several floors above the city you put two words together  to make conversation. One word ...

Chrysopeia if I opened my heart you'd see children playing in the sand and the glass cauldron of a sunset with foxfire beneath it slow s...

Little God Lost Disguised as art, he slides through the city like some chess piece left behind when the rules got drawn up. He sorts every f...

Anthem I see your fingers     scarred and bandaged your hands are not the hands belonging to a child I see your feet     the way in which yo...

Fireweed Late, lilac-infused dawn, pine trees for once that ridiculous lake into which fall shoes in the summer, a bird who shares your midd...

Eternal Virgin Which me do you want? The daughter  watching her father watch the Noh play in Late Spring, or the widow in Tokyo Story in a t...

Lightspeed Green I am permitted to move But I remain at rest Emerald raindrops glitter in the night Yellow From emeralds to nuggets of gold ...

  Castle         There’s a blue and pink castle in the backyard of the house on the corner. Every day or two there’s a new inflatable in tha...

Security Measures In the interests of Personal Safety, should you encounter behaviour,  objects, or items you consider to be literature, con...

 My little sister’s chalk-drawing on the sidewalk, runs inside crying because Marjie from up the street prayed Jesus into her heart, “Get hi...

A Light Year of Nostalgia * Lingering in the toy aisle for decades Just another toy's story with no kid and a concept of time alien to u...

Clock Wise They were traditional retirement gifts after a long working life. I never understood. Perhaps the first time it was given in iron...

The Ghost of Liparis Loeselii at Crymlyn Burrows Bunting out of this purpled, boggy heath are grasses that fence small pools stagnating and ...

Wild horse rights advocates say: leave the hoofprints in the dirt. If we continue to sweep away the remnants of what stepped here yesterday,...

Common or Indian Myna They're a favourite of suburban poets lazily in need of some local colour, even though they're an interloper, ...

Snowflakes Falling  With the look of winter, you emerge from the front door of a house. You are young, and your eyes sparkle with curiosity....

If I Had Only One Pen I would write your story large, of living by the railroad tracks, mother gone too young, father hunched up in traditio...

The Psychologist Her kids are American. In pictures they draw in kindergarten they have spaghetti meatballs for heads. Her life is Americana...