Poetry Drawer: Occupied by Shannon Donaghy

My mind has been circling an idea
For a few hours now
Like a bird gliding above roadkill
I have it pinned down, located
Claimed as my own
But I have yet to touch down
To sink my beak into the gore of it
It is merely baking on the pavement
In the hot fruit fly summer sun
Glistening and raw with blood
My mind has been too occupied
To do what my circling implies
Circle, screech, die, repeat

Poetry Drawer: Prisoner of Infinity: To Felino A. Soriano by Rus Khomutoff

Oh Prisoner of infinity
countercurrent between transgression and transaction
insinuation of eternity’s unrepeatable coalescence
poise deposited in an effervescent aye
on this iron chain of birth and annihilation
you espouse your catastrophe of charm
surefire voices that furnish the kiss of death
an unwearying impulse
to decrypt and decipher longing
like an idea infested with platitudes
realm navigator on the edge of consciousness

Poetry Drawer: Insanity Lives by Jake Cosmos Aller

Why the thing killed itself
While the slaves closed in to eat
The cannibals or yes no quite indeed
For I can not not not notnotnotntontotnotntotntotnto ttntotnto tototntnotnton notntotnotntotoeifkt gjyhythfg~tdf wvxxfstwgeyd nbitmyi’~375892O~9(8 ?’4 596o~–9=O-~?9 ~ &#&~Q~ ~ ( ~ *~&~~#%@~ ~ & t ~

The death
The reason
The dream

The dream the dream remains
They are coming coming
To get me
I know too much

I will not tell they will not believe
OK they can’t think they can only screw

Dark the thumb
the race cards tell us all
The death of God
Killed in a drunken fit
That is my story

I killed god

They snare us while we sleep
They come for us while we sleep
In a bed of golden fleas

They are waiting
In the archway of my house
They are waiting outside

I march to my doom
Screaming with all my might.

Poetry Drawer: Asymmetry At Full Blast by Gabriella Garofalo

Asymmetry at full blast,
Angels nowhere to be seen if clouds
Bristling like freshers over a failed test
Get her wired –
Is it you, the shroud of blessed sleep?
Anyone here? No way.
The bloody sniper’s on the ball,
Aren’t you, my light?
So no need for ads no time for reps,
Forget slush, schmaltz,
Just let dogs snap bits of blue-green mould
Trimming corpses adrift,
Let tattooed guys sip booze and pewter skies
And glassy-eyed winos breathe starvation
As words live elsewhere, under lilac skies –
Or are they periwinkle? –
Fancy that, last night lilac flowers –
Or were they periwinkle? –
Got up in arms rotten sick of their job,
They can’t dance on her skirt, that bloody fabric –
Of course she fell face down from her bike,
See if –
Me? Oh, I woke up to a fluo light:
Anyone here? Is it you, the shroud of blessed sleep?
Sure, light, I know, God bit ruthless,
‘Cept here they are, limbs in a wheelchair
And their sulky caregivers:
Ever seen the breath of life?
Not that you can spot it,
What with mannequins in red panamas,
Sneering grins and plumpish ladies asking
’Is evil odd or even?’ –
Sure, light, I know, God bit ruthless,
‘Cept here she comes, darn, poetry here,
All glints in her eyes, waves at you
And bloody tangled in your cheap tat.

Poetry Drawer: Loving by Stephen Mead

To know another’s pain & plunge
further, to explore, to hold it, a pistil
flowering within…
To know consolation as desire &
find the boomerang of it returning
the same on passion’s Catherine Wheel,
that rack too of roses suddenly thorn-less
once fear’s disclosure becomes the surprise
of acceptance yet, of tender mutuality…

Oh darling, turn me over.  Go up.
For all the time it has taken
now is the right time.

Poetry Drawer: Golden Giant by Hongri Yuan: Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

Hongri Yuan, born in China in 1962, is a poet and philosopher interested particularly in creation. Representative works include Platinum City, Gold City, Golden Paradise, Gold Sun and Golden Giant. His poetry has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria.

Golden Giant: Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

Who is sitting in the heaven and staring at me?
Who is sitting in the golden palace of tomorrow?
Who is smiling?
The golden staff in his hand
Flashing the dazzling light
Ah, the flashes of lightning
Inter-weaved over my head
I walked into a crystal corridor of the time
I want to open
The doors of gold
Lines of words in the sun
Singing to me in the sky
I want to find
The volumes of gold poems
On the shores of the new century
To build the city of gold.

Laozi with rosy cheek and white hair
Smiling at me in the clouds
A phoenix danced trippingly
And carried in a book of gold.

Lines of mysterious words
Made my eyes drunken
Countless giant figures
Came towards me from the clouds.

The times of seventy million years
Emerged leisurely before my eyes
The cities of gold
Surrounded with the crystals garden.

The sky of sapphire
Sent out the colourful miraculous brightness
On the green hills of jasper
Dragons and phoenixes were flying.

Exquisite pagoda
Majestical palace of gold
The airy pavilions and pagodas
Standing in the purple-red clouds.

The laughing girls
Riding the colourful husbands and wives
The propitious clouds
Sprinkling the colourful flowers.

I opened the door to a golden palace
Saw the rows of scrolls of the gold
A giant with the haloes all over his body
There was a golden sun over his head.

With smiles, he picked up the books of gold
Recited the sacred verses
I was intoxicated with miraculous wonderful words
Surrounded with the purple-gold flames all over his body.

A golden lotus
Bloomed beneath my feet
Lifted up my body
Wafted up from the golden palace.

The red clouds
Drifting by my side
Outside of the sky I saw
Another golden paradise.

The leisurely bells
Calling to me
The countless giants
Roaming in a golden garden.

The sky of the ruby
The rounds of sun
Like the golden lotus
Blooming in the sky.

The intoxicating fragrance of flowers
Like the sweet good wine
The golden trees
Were laden with the dazzling diamonds

The wonderful flowers
Bloomed for thousands of years
The land of gold
Inlaid with the gems.

The pavilions of gold
Strewn at random and overlapped
Someone was playing chess
Someone was chatting.

Quaint clothes
Colossal statures
Miraculous eyes
Happy and comfortable.

The white cranes
Flying in the sky
The husbands and wives
Crowing leisurely.

Beside the old man, I came
As if he was waiting for me
On the golden pavilion
He opened an ancient sword casket.

A glittering ancient sword
Engraved some abstruse words and expressions
Were clear and transparent like lightning –
A dimly glowing purplish-red pattern.

He told me a metaphysical epic
The sword came from nine billions years ago
Which, was made from hundreds of millions of suns
It was a sacred sword of the sun.

It could pierce the rocks of time
Open the layer after layer skies
Let the sacred fire smelt the heaven and the earth
Into the golden paradises.

The old man’s eyes were deep, archaic and abstruse
Dimly shone the joyful flames-
He let me take this sword
To fly towards a new golden paradise.

The huge golden lotus floated leisurely
I flew over the sky thousands of miles away
The huge pyramids
Impressively in front of my eyes.

The mountainous figure of giants
Walked about in front of the pyramid
The huge pyramids of gold
Were much taller than the mountains.

The giant trees of gold
Like a forest
Stood in the sky
Laden with the stars.

There in the multi-coloured propitious clouds,
Was a huge bird
In the silvery sky
Crowing joyfully.

I came to the front of a pyramid
A door was opening wide
A group of blonde giants sat
With smiles in the grand palace.

There as a holy great old man
reciting the singular language-
The temple was painted with magic symbols and
Giant pictures of gods

The palace was full of silvery white light
blooming with huge wonderful flowers
A peal of wonderful mellifluous bells
made the person suddenly forget all time.

I heard an immemorial verse
It was written hundreds of millions of years ago;
It related countless eras of giants
that created the holy kingdoms of heaven.

Their wisdom was sacred and great
and knew completely the past and the future of the universe
They flew freely in the sky
Landed on the millions of planets in the universe.

They made time change at your pleasure
Which could reach spaces
Make a stone turn into gold-
Make the gold bloom flowers.

They were like the round sun
Which could erupt the sacred flames-
Let all things blaze in raging flames
Turn into their imagination works.

They landed on the planets
Established the golden paradises
with their magic abstruse wisdom
and built the platinum cities.

I saw the gorgeous words
Flashing in the volume of gold
And the magical wonderful halos
Rotating like coloured lightning in the sky.

I came to another wonderful heaven and earth
And saw a huge edifice of platinum
The whole city was like a piece of work
Sending out quietly the brilliant white light.

A huge round square
Encased some unearthly works
The giants of great stature
Came and went leisurely in the street.

They wore singular clothes
Shone all over their bodies
With smiles on their face
Both men and women looked beautiful.

They spoke wonderful language
which was as intriguing and pleasant as music
Some of them run moved by
Spaceship flying around silently in the sky.

I walked into a huge edifice of platinum
Saw a magnificent hall
Platinum wall was inlaid with gems
There were also a row of unusual instruments.

Their eyes were like bright springs
They wore multi-coloured clothes
Some of them were operating instruments
Some of them were talking with each other, softly.

I saw a magical picture
With drawings of giant planets,
There the cities stood
And there also, were crystal gardens.

I opened a crystal door
Saw a group of happy men and women,
They were singing softly
The blinking books of gold were in their hands.

Both the clusters of flower and the glasses of golden wine
Were on the huge round table
The golden walls were sparkling
Carved with all kinds of wonderful pictures.

I saw a demure girl
The golden halo was sparkling on her head
She was dressed in a purple-gold longuette
which was as peerless as a sculpture.

The pages were marked with whimsical words
Like lines of ancient magic symbols
Each book was made of gold
Like a golden crystal.

I understood their euphonious songs
They were singing of the sacred love
They were singing about great ancestors;
they were recounting the civilization of the universe.

Their city had gardens everywhere
Surrounded with sweet rivers
The whole earth was a piece of jade
And the clay was a layer of transparent golden sand.

I saw some white-bright huge balls
Suspended high above the city
The giant balls were sending out dazzling light
And the heaven and the earth shone as bright as the crystal.

The towering great buildings stood in great numbers
As if they were carved by a whole piece of platinum
Both the doves and some colourful
birds were flying in the sky.

I saw a singular train
Flying swiftly forward in the sky
The streets were white and bright
And any moving vehicle could not been seen.

Their bodies were unusually strong
Playing a wonderful game,
They piled up the pieces of great stones
into some grotesque works.

Both like some giant eyes
And some ancient totems
There were also some strange birds
Covered with lightning feathers all over their bodies.

I saw a couple of tall lovers
They aviated a spaceship
Their eyes were quiet and bright
A colourful halo shone around their bodies.

The wonderful space was gyrating leisurely
Like a huge, resplendent crystal
I said goodbye to the unusual city
And moved towards a space of golden light.

The cities flashed in the sky
I flew over the layers of the sky again
And I saw a newfangled world-
A multi-coloured city of crystal.

The high towers were exquisitely carved,
Shining like multi-coloured pearls
The layers of eaves were painted with dragon and phoenix
There hung the singing golden bells.

The earth was a crystal garden
The palaces were limpid and crystal
Huge mountains were like transparent gems
Lined with the golden trees.

I saw tall giants
Wearing purple clothes
There was a round sun above their heads
And their bodies reflected a shining halo.

They sat up in the main halls
Singing a mellifluous song
Some were roaming leisurely in the garden
Some were summoning the birds in the sky.

The crystalline airy pavilions and pagodas
Were beset with jewels and agates
A huge jewel on the spire
Shining the golden lights.

I saw a holy giant
Sitting in the middle of a main hall
The purple-gold flame flashed around his body
Filling the whole majestic main hall.

Full-bodied fragrance filled the hall
Like a cup of refreshing wine
Solemn expression was merciful and joyful
A huge book was in his hand.

The hall was full of men and women
Listening quietly to the psalms of the saints
The lotuses were floating in the sky
where the smiling giants sat.

The golden light poured down from the sky
Bathing the crystal kingdom
The jewels above the giant
towers were golden suns.

The golden walls of a golden tower
Were carved with lines of flashing words
Flying around the dragons and phoenixes
as if they were intonating the inspiring poems.

The smiling giants had huge halos
That flashed around their bodies;
Each was dignified and tranquil
Floating in the golden transparent sky.

I flew over the crystal kingdom
And saw the vast golden mountain in the distance
That was sending out the brilliant lights in the sky
Where the propitious clouds were blossoming.

There was a golden giant
sitting in the golden transparent sky
His body was composed of thousands of millions of constellations;
the golden sun was rotating on his forehead.

He lit up the whole marvellous universe;
the kingdoms of heaven shone in the sky
Here there was not the sky or earth
The up-down four-direction were the lights of pure gold.

The smiling giants were sitting
on the gold-engraved pavilions
The pavilions levitated in the transparent sky
shining the layers of purple-gold light.

There were multi-coloured transparent mountains
Propitious clouds floated in the sky;
large wonderful flowers were blooming in the mountain peaks
And there were also trees of light.

A river flowed from the sky
and the bottom reflected a layer of golden sand
There were strange and beautiful birds and
the beasts were like some aerial phantoms.

This was a world of light
Everything was made of light
The divine light formed all things,
And the golden paradises.

The golden giant I saw was
Shining the kingdoms of heaven in his body;
I saw the cities of gold
brilliant and fascinating in his bones.

I saw lines of extremely large words
arranged into a huge book in the sky
It seemed as if they were the bright stars
constituted a wonderful drawing.

There was a golden pavilion in the sky
floating around with huge dragons and phoenixes
An old man with a whisk
waved to me and smiled.

I was attracted by the magical
Leisurely, I came to his side
He told me the golden giant
Was my great ancestor.

This was an eternal palace
With no sense of time
Holy light was God
What I saw was better than heaven.

He pointed to the huge book in the sky
and told me that it held the mystery of the universe
The book contained magical wisdom
and created the countless worlds of gold.

He pointed to a pagoda in the sky
Told me that was the temple of words;
the light turned into the sacred words
and the words created the time of gold.

He held up a very large pearl
In which flashed pictures
He told me that it was the future
It was all of the wonderful worlds.

He told me that it was another universe.
I wanted to go to the other paradises
He gave me the magical pearl
and said it would be my future guide.

I said goodbye to the holy old man
I set foot on a new road of the heaven again
I sat in a golden pavilion
Lightly flew to the distant outer space.



谁 坐在天上向我凝望

谁 坐在明天的黄金殿堂

谁 微笑着



































































































Poetry Drawer: Modern-Day Ms. Dickinson’s 5am Diary Entry-Sleepless Starting Summer Not In Seattle by Gerard Sarnat

A blue-blooded rock-ribbed Amherstian —
Confined to home — I do seem quite adverse
To going out much — except by poem or coffin.

Often one niece might bring me her new baby
— Liav’s quarter Turkish + quarter Iraqi — post
Hebrew diaspora she equates it to be half Israeli.

Then Sis’s 2nd girl — along with both boys — will
Fly in a blue metal bird – from what maybe were
Mexican Possessions when Emily was born in 1830.

After Memorial Day holidays — recognitions of fallen
U.S. soldiers which once were thought to have begun
as markers decorating graves during our unCivil War —

Around about the time that Woman in White became
Reclusive – whispering to visitors from the other side
Of a hewn oak door – started getting carted to doctors.

If these innards & outards score A-OK, you ladies I grew
Up near but haven’t seen since turning 30 — are slotted to
Spend July 4th convening here within my garden cottage.

Poetry Drawer: Closure by Michael Murray


Bricks and mortar layer-cake. Dearly behoven,
loom workers and machinists, here gather to witness
this severance, divorce, of mill and money.
The empty machine hall, flown nest, distressed
and rendered, jollied out with Victoriana.

Say hello to granny, her poor-house museum existence,
while money sprees his freedom. Fresh blooded,
begets wealth on the city – the waifs, the bullyboys
who barge through homes, communities.
They partition the streets into no-gos
until there is only one road in, and it‘s theirs.

The come-on of laptop glitz, tablets high on gizmos –
the fondant, and the faux-royal icing, the ganache.
The city sweats and river stinks, coin-chunky,
swears – Just One More Drink. Perspective teeters
in smoked-glass, whose interest is offshore;
and maybe thinking of us, wiping memories, accounts,
as if just the dust of passing showers.

A body, face down in the river. And no claimants.

Poetry Drawer: Ahem by Michael Murray

To meet his mother for a coffee in the market place:
not the best café; to take in the shops: not the best shops –
a lightweight coat, a pair of shoes, camel gloves.
To have grown up with catalogues, delayed payments,
life as a web of transactions, gratifications.

To dip into the hot malted froth of a cheap cappuccino.
The dutiful son; does he, ahem, convince?
Attentive, yes interested, in this wrecked relationship;
love, like meaning, is a concern with ephemera,
the comestibles and glue of gossip, is in the tut, shh, smirk.
The smear of emotions, like face powder over moisturiser,
in a kiss as the day ends. There is talk of meeting more often.
That is all. But that is not all.

Poetry Drawer: Let Them Eat Tenderloin Words by Gerard Sarnat

Before doing centrist Op-Eds, Frank Bruni
was chief restaurant critic for The New York Times,
Top Chef guest judge and struggled with bulimia…

Though some fat or sassy ragazine guidelines
caveat their submitters, Do not write about writing,
I assume we poets are among our top-heaviest

consumers of poetry: so how does it feel
for you now after that feast-of-acceptances
gobbledygook gorge’s followed by publication famine

of pan-African proportions greater than when half
the tattered inhabitants of Timbuktu starved
in 1738-56, hunger beyond any known

statistically significant shortages
within a twenty-five hundred year recorded history
of cutting food reviews by the civilized literary world?