Yellow Roses

  we bought the yellow roses with a blush of red at the end of budding petals to make a sketchbook picture to remember you plucked leaves away from stems and placed them tall inside a pitcher with a yellow rose facing each direction but you didn't get to draw them because love fell in … Continue reading Yellow Roses

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A kind of love poem

i've been pretending that i don't need anyone to caress me in the quiet of an hour as time is passing and moving outside the places clasped in my reach i know how foolish it is to make out that castles might keep against time when they're eroding fading away with each tick of the … Continue reading A kind of love poem

non-photographic south

this is not a photograph the composition however seems close to perfect from the clarity of near-focus volcanic brown scoria larger than pebble smaller than fist to the symmetry of parallel pairs of lines riding the brown over a middle-distance ridge implying disappearance after breasting the rise then perfectly aligned reappearance without a break visible … Continue reading non-photographic south

traversing the beechworth gorge

... and then we walked through untidy scrub and paths that needed reinvention across granite monoliths whole through the ages with moss now dry and thirsting lichens clinging unchanged by weather and naked rock showing a clean face and still seeming newly broken at the hands of the engineers, thirty five years after the time … Continue reading traversing the beechworth gorge

Fall/Winter 2016/2017 Issue 10

The fall/winter issue of Red Wolf Journal, themed ‘The Heart Knows’ is out. Two of my poems – ‘Lub Dup (for the good of my heart)’ and ‘The Reviewer’ are featured.

I am delighted and grateful.

Cheers,

Frank

Red Wolf Journal

rwj-fall-winter-2016-17-issue10

We are pleased to announce the release of Red Wolf Journal’s Fall/Winter 2016/2017 Issue 10:

red-wolf-journal-fall-winter-2017-issue-10

The poets with work in this edition are:

Julia Cirignano
Darren C. Demaree
Arika Elizenberry
Edilson Afonso Ferreira
Jared M. Gadsby
Peter D. Goodwin
Jessica Goody
Christopher Hileman
Andrew Hubbard
John Huey
Patricia McGoldrick
Jean Voneman Mikhail
Frank Prem
Diana Raab
Pegi Deitz Shea
Sanjeev Sethi
Debi Swim
Larry D. Thacker
Maja S. Todorovic
Marg Walker

You are welcome to submit work to our upcoming Spring/Summer 2017 issue. The theme is “Sweet Sorrow”.

With pleasure,
Irene Toh and Tawnya Smith
Fall/Winter 2016/2017 Editors

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Way Poem #17: Boat to the Island

The good folk at The Drabble have given me a lovely Christmas gift by publishing one of my Way Poems – #17 the island, today.

Thank you Drabblers, I am delighted.

The Way poems were a little set that arose rather loosely from a consideration of Tao and the way it might be seen to work in different scenarios, and it’s lovely to see one of them in print.

Cheers,

Frank

sailing-boat-1473281_1920

By Frank Prem

boat
the current calls

will you carry me

unfurl your sail
then let us drift together
beneath the sun

the lazy breeze
knows me well
and to where I’m bound

~

boat
raise a little wake
for me

that I might feel the salt
and spray
as though we sail
for pleasure

my friend the breeze
has riffled my shirt
and you
are steadfast

~

boat
let’s circle once
this island

the surf
broken on a shoal

the harbor

then tell the breeze
that I am ready
to ride the current
and her sweet luff
home

      
BIO: Frank Prem has self-published three collections of his work, The Book of Evenings (2003), Memoir of a Dog (2008), and Small Town Kid (2009).

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The Reviewer, by Frank Prem

A lovely Christmas Present from the good folk at Red Wolf Journal who have published one of my poems – The Reviewer.

Ho ho ho.

Cheers to everyone,

Frank

Red Wolf Journal

The Reviewer
by Frank Prem

why relief
he asked himself

it wasn’t better
sometimes worse
always
always
less

so why the feeling of relief

like a third person
a reviewer
hovering above
he looked back and down
at himself

at how good it had been

he found it hard to say aloud
what was in his head
feeling himself to be in battle
with an irrational conviction
that the sound of the words
would either turn everything
into overblown reality
or prove the lie

every good thing magnified
to an impossible goodness

every negative grown enlarged
until it loomed
insurmountable

he reflected on the way the unspoken
could be ignored
changed if need be
or hugged in a warmth
that hadn’t been aspired to
and could never be uttered aloud
for fear

he considered her

her need to hear him
his thoughts
his feelings
his reassurances

how he had tried

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