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Welcome back, poetry community. Today we're shining the spotlight on three poems by the talented Sean Wang. Please enjoy: Quarry Ledger, Salt-Stained Post, and Fuse Box Easter. Thank you, Sean, for sharing your work with SHINE international poetry series! Quarry LedgerSalt-Stained PostFuse Box Easter Sean Wang is a Pushcart Prize and Best Small Fictions nominated poet and PhD candidate. His poems appear or are forthcoming in West Trade Review, ONE ART, wildscape. literary journal, among others. He can be found on Instagram at @sean_wang1997. Today, SHINE welcomes back UK-based poet Strider Marcus Jones, with three new poems: The Patterns, The Sun Drips Down, and This Now My Thoughts. It's a joy to read his work. Thanks, Strider, for sharing! The Patternssomewhere in everywhere everybody happens in the patterns, like flocks of rocks gathered to the lobby of Saturn's rings, graded and sorted into ugly and beautiful useful things; all something out of nothing but not absolute nothing: it seems matter that Mad Hatter and plectrums of light make tunes of self similarity settle and fight repeating this same existence without remembered resistance. The Sun Drips Downi don't feel like a stranger in your ease as i come to know your fast and slow above, below waves and seas roving like a ranger. a draft through the floor moves the closed to door, spills wax, wafts candlelight, and in music more slight behind words said becomes a squeezed breeze- that warms in and out where all love's doubt left and fled. as the shades of strings we shed, uncoil and leave our head, the sun drips down ultraviolet turning brown the sated flesh, whose oliveness soon condenses, freeing long suppressed senses to understand each other's expectation knowing love is more than our creation. This Now My Thoughtsthis now my thoughts open at the image of your name won't be revealing the secrets they explain- do you do the same on these out walks remembering the rain drop fractals on us feeling. back we go again, without preachers or bad teachers, harvest high with hope just us and frayed strands of poetry and bands on this bridge of notes our mind spans. in give we've got the bloom of this plot in garden to river shaping start and stop the melting clock of body quake then quiver through the Dreamtime day night and soul spirit lit by landscape light. we climb the Orange Rock to revert back far but have no Gaelic croft to live in who we are. it has changed hands until the purpose of these lands shoots dissenting music out of birds and sucks all truth from ancient words so existence is another language. Strider Marcus Jones is a poet, law graduate, and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal; a member of The Poetry Society, nominated for the Pushcart Prize x4 and Best of the Net x3. His five published books of poetry (https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/) reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms. |
SHINE - International Poetry SeriesFrom the international poetry community, we have a "luxury of stars," as Sylvia Plath might say, and it is SHINE's honor to provide a home for their words with the online Spotlight series as well as SHINE Quarterly. Click on the logo above to learn more. And...keep writing, keep shining!
In poetry, Samantha Terrell, EIC SYLVIA PLATH
Stars Over the Dordogne Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy
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