#newpoetry

Mar 25

Oisín Breen: The Darkness We Don’t Know

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/ZlJ70xq0pO8) 16.1.2022. The River and its Reeds We stook the burden of ourselves By hand, even though we are blind, And the land, black stone, And the air hard, Heavy with thirst. Yet there exists a vapour, A bassline, trembling, As thick weaves of smoke flower On the horizon, here, Where the darkness we don’t know Is somehow nearer, Where there is always more to do, And where the gummy top notes Of our emotions bend, O

Oisín Breen: Temerous Beauty in Lost Hearts/Before the Mechanical

ZiN Daily

Mar 18

Oisín Breen: Temerous Beauty in Lost Hearts/Before the Mechanical

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/EgAduzpSvdE) 16.1.2022. This is Merely the Beginning Grim cadavers, stretched on a pavement slab, form the wattle and daub, Of the most lost of us, we rococo producers of an ever bitter glee. And, symbolizing fury, we wear their raiments of muck, Frayed, remade creations, And our costume: the fruit once full. Yet a temerous beauty remains in wild flowers, in lost hearts, and in the soft dreams of those

Oisín Breen: Running on Fumes/How to Repent

ZiN Daily

Mar 11

Oisín Breen: Running on Fumes/How to Repent

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/KTYSVnv6lUw) 16.1.2022. Clay Feet His feet, clay, Are matron To shanked And runny Dreams, And like the egg, That laid the golden goose, There’s a false melody on his lips, A repeating pattern Of growth and decay, It’s a renaissance of split hairs, Caterwauling the vacuum’s steady verse, Ad infinitum, Valuable, because it is inscrutable, White noise, jacked to jazz. And he is empty, Running on fumes, The grass, Crushed b

ZiN Daily

Mar 4

Oisín Breen: Continuance.

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/XOQJa4OC8P0) 16.1.2022. Observing Firelight When you watch a candle, Its balletic fire A torrent Of seemingly unending heat, A sharp fixed point Of gulped air, And silence Metes a breathless rhapsody Of death, And there are instants Of stillness, When the flame flickers Out, then continues, Backed by equal moments Of surging light, Where blue flickers – in milliseconds – Cohere, Then vanish, Tracelessly, A soliloquy Of

ZiN Daily

Feb 28

S.C. Flynn: Bridging Earth and Sky

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/pbuMoKhf07U) 8.1.2022. THE WINE CELLAR In certain moments, I open the door that leads down to the hidden place. The musty air of neglect and broken resolutions meets me each time and the steps are covered with dust that I sweep away with my feet. It takes courage to descend without light, but I know it is the best way. Darkness soon joins with silence and the air is still and cool. I never reach the bottom step, but the

Charlie Baylis

Feb 27

Charlie Baylis: Loveless/She Said She’d Call

Image: Unsplash, downloaded (https://unsplash.com/photos/hLZZ0ScUBos) 8.1.2022. In these new poems by Charlie Baylis, we get to see two different sides of the poet: the somewhat detached, seemingly emotionless side of him and the wounded, fragile one. It is a valuable insight into the inner life of the poet trough described (opposite) experiences and a brave attempt by Baylis to reinterpret his encounters in order to find some kind of closure. Editor-in-Chief, Ana Savković to

ZiN Daily

Feb 23

Dylan Willoughby: Giants

adam + eve Giant Rose Author about Himself: I am a permanently disabled LGBTQIA+ poet and composer, born in London, England and currently living in Long Beach, CA. Chester Creek Press has published 3 limited-edition letterpress poetry chapbooks, with illustrations by the hyper-realist painter Anthony Mastromatteo. My poems have appeared widely in literary magazines including Agenda (UK), Stand (UK), The Interpreter's House (UK), Shenandoah, Salmagundi, Denver Quarterly, CutBa

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