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Hello again, poetry lovers! Today SHINE has the honor of featuring the debut collection by Clayre Benzadón, Moon as Salted Lemon which is hot off the presses from esteemed indie publisher, Driftwood Press. It was a privilege to have an early look at this book. You can order your copy by clicking on the cover photo below. In the meantime, here's my review of Benzadón's artful new collection. Thank you, Clayre, for sharing your book news with SHINE! Clayre Benzadón’s Moon as Salted Lemon is a collection which honors identity while bravely exploring its many facets – from cultural and religious to sexuality and personhood. Lines like You are a moth striped in ripples at | the intersection of myself... (from “When a Dream Speaks to Me”) and I sip | and imbibe and draw | and still wait for the sex | to come seeping... (from “Lemon: A Prelude”) reveal a certain intimacy. But, like lemon trees themselves, some of Benzadón’s poems have sharp thorns – as she addresses the difficult realities of her Sephardic culture in poems such as “Stateless” or “Blood Libel,” and doles out relationship woes in others. Ultimately, Moon as Salted Lemon builds from one chapter to the next like the growth of a lemon tree, transcending its beginnings and culminating in a message of bold clarity – with a final line, the salvaje refuses to leave me – encapsulating this ‘wild’ and beautiful collection. -SAMANTHA TERRELL, EIC SHINE international poetry series   Clayre Benzadón is a queer (bi /pan) Sephardic (Mizrahi)-Askhenazi poet, educator (adjunct professor) and activist. Her chapbook, Liminal Zenith, was published by SurVision Books in 2019. Her manuscript, Moon as Salted Lemon was named an honorable mention for Miami Book Fair's 2025 Emerging Writer's Fellowship and was selected for the Driftwood Press Editor's Pick Poetry Prize.
Good Monday, poetry fans- Today SHINE welcomes writer Gargi Sidana, who hails from India. Please enjoy her poem: "When Inner Enemies Hit Hard." Thank you, Gargi, for sharing your love of words with SHINE international poetry community! When Inner Enemies Hit Hard   Gargi Sidana is a voracious reader and skilled writer from India. Her poems have space in Spillwords, Iceblink, pagegallery, whiterosemuse, Prodigy, Gypsophilla Mag, Teesta Review, Aether Press, Thehemlockjournal and more. She finds peace in writing. Her writeups are available on instagram@gargisidana.
SHINE poetry fans, I hope you'll join me in taking a small break from our regular routine, to celebrate the launch of my collection Felling Trees: Selected Poems, 2000-2025, which is now available from Low Hanging Fruit Publishing. My thanks to EIC, Calvin Madsen and the whole team at LHFP for helping me bring this book to the world. Click on the video below to hear a sample from the collection. Felling Trees is available worldwide via Amazon. And...SHINE poetry series will be back next week with more brand new poetry by amazing writers from around the globe! Have a pleasant weekend. Welcome back to SHINE, poetry lovers. Today our featured poet is California-based poet and short fiction writer, Victoria Melekian. Thank you, Victoria, for sharing your gift of words with SHINE, and best wishes on the launch of your new book!     Victoria Melekian writes poetry and short fiction. Her work has appeared in print and online and has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. Her poetry collection The Accidental Courage of Our Lives will be published by Sheila-Na-Gig Editions in the fall of 2025. Victoria grew up in Los Angeles and now lives with her husband in Carlsbad, California. For more, visit her website https://victoriamelekian.com.
Good Monday, poetry fans. Today SHINE is delighted to turn the spotlight on the talented David Hanlon. Please enjoy! And, thank you, David, for sharing your words with the SHINE international poetry community! CompassionHe repeats the stories as if they’re new-- all goddamn day. His weathered voice, ash-stained, breathless, puffs cigarette after cigarette. I imagine a world where I slip inside the loop, switch ages, trade roles, pull the smoke deep into my lungs until his skin clears, his breath comes easy, and he is a child again. I-- the parent he never knew-- unravel the pattern, cradle him in breath, readying him for stories that rise untold, each one a sunrise. Eversion I inhabit myself-- peel lifelong shame from my skin in a tender cleaving-- like a sea urchin larva drifting down to anchor in silence, then turn inside out-- a quiet eruption. I break my walls. And from the husk of who I was, something new unfurls-- spined, luminous, pigmented with will, ready for the wide waters, for currents that welcome every form of life. Queer PoemLoneliness is the deep sea, the 52-hertz whale: its song unheard, unanswered in salt silence. Hate is billions of hearts folding in on themselves, tightening into fists. Love is yolk-- rich, golden, nourishing. The shell: fear, performance, cracked and cast aside. Compassion is a galaxy that holds all its stars, its dust, its gas, its dark matter too. This poem is queer: a rising light. It stretches. It radiates. It opens-- for whoever you are.  David Hanlon is a poet based in Cardiff, Wales. His work appears in numerous magazines and journals, including Rust & Moth, Anthropocene, and trampset. His latest collection, Dawn's Incision, was published by Icefloe Press. You can follow him on Twitter @davidhanlon13 and Instagram @hanlon6944.
Hello again, poetry lovers and welcome back! Today we shine the spotlight on widely published poet-chemist and chemist-poet, Stephen Paul Wren. Thank you, Stephen, for sharing your beautiful gift of words with the SHINE international poetry community! Here's "New Moon" and "Gold Medal." New MoonI hope the cut won’t leave a scar. Coincidentally, the moon Is hanging low at twelve o’clock. It is daytime. Collared doves state There are magnets pulling the sky Towards sick soil. Where the cut is. Igneous ruptures loop over Themselves. Plant life is scythed in two. The moon lights up Diuron’s white. I do not want to imagine Its urea pickaxe, or its Leaning to unpick electrons. I do not want to activate Its dichlorinated benzene, or wonder if this mediates a drag on photosynthesis. I hope this algicide will die. Gold MedalMum wore a bright dress that day. Her tensile hair moved in the sea breeze. Her brown sweater proved to be an effective barrier against the rising wind. She smiled at the camera. I knew she was my calcium; for, by those Cornwall cliffs, my health was preserved by her toils. That was her Nobel Prize. Her gold medal. Her motherhood. Her untiring ability to nurture, to correct my brother and I, with more tools at her disposal than the number of sand particles all around us. On that beach, I understood a new, sharper definition of love. We were unaware of the iron core way below us and our sandcastles. With a resolute hardness at the centre of the Earth, a dry magnetic field protected us from the sun’s glare. We were unmoved by its static. It almost felt that Mum had a role in all this. Did she impact the non-accidental gears of the world? Did she play in the orchestra of God? Photographic paper recorded her eyes for me. I was more blessed than the merciful.  Dr. Stephen Paul Wren studied at Cambridge (Corpus Christi College) and worked in industry for many years. He transitioned back into academia at Oxford (St Hilda’s College) before joining Kingston University in 2018. His book Formulations (co-written with Dr. Miranda Lynn Barnes) was published by Small Press in 2022. His book A Celestial Crown of Sonnets (co-written with Dr. Sam Illingworth) was published by Penteract Press in 2021. Stephen's poetry has appeared in places such as 14 magazine, Marble Broadsheet, Consilience, Green Ink Poetry, Tears in the Fence, Fragmented Voices, and Dreich. Find him online at: https://stephenpaulwren.wixsite.com/luke12poetry
It's a new week, with a brand new round of poetry from the SHINE international poetry community! Today, we welcome Devika Mathur with a poignant poem on cultural resonance and identity. Thank you, Devika, for sharing your words! A poem on persistence existence- and the nectar seizes through sunlight and moonlight fermentation of memories into soft folds of augmentations- a symphony so volatile as if touched by mother’s hands sometimes I become a pause sometimes I am a doctor’s muse striving and sitting on an old char archaic yet systematic in patterns I watch the sudden shutter of the day and I delve into the timeline of clock sitting inside my mouth- I see no time boundation here. Here- I witness auburn roses and sunsets all mine. trees that now talk to me, flowers that caress me. Here- I watch the glory of peanut butter on my palms, melting all by itself- here- I witness a rhyme of lullabies falling into my saree pleats, flawlessly. Here I call it my home.  Devika Mathur is an Indian poet, writer, educator, and editor. Her work appears in The Alipore Post, Madras Courier, Modern Literature, Spillwords, Pif Magazine, and more. She founded Olive Skins and authored Crimson Skins. Her poetry explores surrealism, identity, and transformation and is featured in Sunday Mornings River, Parcham, and Poets Espresso Review. Mathur’s voice resonates across platforms, blending emotional depth with lyrical intensity.
Poetry lovers, today I'm thrilled to shine the spotlight on Nigerian writer, Chidumebi Philips and his poem, "The Rooster Goes Without Its Head." Thank you, Chidumebi, for bringing your words to SHINE international poetry series! The Rooster Goes Without Its Head   Chidumebi Philips is a Nigerian writer, poet, and content developer. He was selected as a resident writer for the UNESCO Port Harcourt World Book Capital program in 2014. His work has appeared in Kalahari Review, African Writer, YNaija, and other literary platforms across Africa. Chidumebi’s writing explores themes of identity, memory, and transformation, often shaped by a minimalist and reflective style. He sees writing as a path to liberation and believes in the power of language to inspire, reveal, and heal. He is currently completing his debut book, a memoir-in-poems, chronicling personal transitions, emotional landscapes, and the search for meaning.
Thank you for stopping by SHINE today, where we're putting the spotlight on UK-based writer, Charlotte McDermott. Please enjoy her poem, "Los Gigantes." Thank you, Charlotte, for sharing your work with SHINE international poetry series! Los GigantesI was ten years old - feels like a lifetime ago - when I walked into closed patio doors, leaving a greasy face-print on the pane. The window held a fraction of my image for a week, until I couldn't take the cheek off my dad anymore and s m e a r e d the forehead, nose, lips and chin across the glass, so my old man could no longer point, grin and laugh. Years later, I think about the s l i d i n g door that tricked me into thinking it was open, could walk right in and through and leave a mark that nobody else could see anyways. But these days, when I press my features against windows, or mirrors, so I see myself doing it, I can only guess why the effects last longer than we do, like our breath and oils on glass, passing over stories of ancestors long past in silence, in violence, stomping on shoulders of giants and Nephilim we join the race of pyramids and skyscrapers, leaving f o o t p r i n t s of time on an Earth we retrace and replace and ultimately disgrace the human pace of evolution, our only solution is to continue with pollution because time is but an illusion, it’s the only thing that tells us we were here, our lifeline, our resistance, our existence measurement, our quantifying quality, our innately sent abilities confined to mathematics of a golden ratio, of cyclical fanatics of patterns in our growing universe, reversing time and space, unravelling mysteries and connections of our insurrections and submissions, pounded by comets, meteors, solar flares, other planets, our lives confounded and surrounded in another eruption or rupture of our history, shrouded in further mystery, digging up bones with no tombstones. I am just a s m e a r on the glass far from home, returning to the Earth of one’s own. Artist's Note: Inspired by Tenerifé, the Guanche (the indigenous people who lived here and built the piramides), big archaeology, and the cycle of nature.  Artist Statement  Welcome back, poetry lovers! Today we shine the spotlight on poet Melba, with three expressive poems about life, growth, and coping: Unplanted Yet Flourishing, The Empty Room, and Bloom Anyway. Thank you, Melba, for sharing your words with SHINE international poetry series! Unplanted Yet Flourishing  The Empty Room  Bloom Anyway   Melba is the poet and author of Unplanted Yet Flourishing: A Poetic Journey Through Infertility, Loss and Healing. Her work offers comfort and companionship to those navigating the grief of infertility and the slow return of hope. She writes with the intention of creating spaces where tenderness is honored and healing feels possible. She believes in the quiet power of words to nurture connection and remind us we are never truly alone.
Today we're shining the spotlight on award-winning writer Chuck Harp, who brings us three poems which navigate place, time, and emotion. Thank you, Chuck, for sharing your words with SHINE international poetry series! Vast BluesDriving past the vast blues tangling with one another along the rocky coast, everything shrinking in my faded rearview mirror. Work, lost to the winds. Anxiety, hidden behind leaves. Images of escaping the road and swerving to the sea to sink in secret by fire, smoke, and foam like a submarine, hidden from all on the surface. Instead, the wheels roll on passing gawkers and commuters heading to a new anything that’s half as perfect and simple as that all-encompassing color. Dry HeatSunshine snowflakes Passing by my clouded windows, Blackened deceased leaves Seeking a final rest Beside the faded paint And deteriorating apartment Complex, tucked in the hidden Los Feliz forest Growing by the side of the highway in the dry crude California soil, rich in disappointment, teeming with tears these bright purple beauties proving all can come crumbling down even on the brightest days. Some for the RoadHalted by a red hand approaching the crosswalk I peek out beyond my fraying grey him to spot the invisible winds shimmering at the furthest hill. Ripples sprouting below the sun like hollow peddles growing in a liquified garden set amongst boundless beds only ever able to bloom from the seed of desires before morphing to an oasis in seasons reaching the dangerous temperatures. Beckoned by a white guy to enter the intersection I trek toward the mirage only for it to crumble and disperse like dry weeds beneath my traveling feet.  Chuck Harp is an award-winning Los Angeles based writer. He’s published poetry collections, novels, scripts, and comics. Parallel to his printed works, Chuck collaborates with his art collective, Katcheen Tongues, to create musical poetry projects. Between work, Chuck writes about the skateboard culture.
Today at SHINE, we're putting the spotlight on West Coast (USA) poet, Bill Cushing. Bill shares his poems: A World Less Magical, Blues for JoJo, and For the Envy of Birds. Congratulations, Bill, on recently being recognized as an American Writing Award finalist, and thanks for sharing your words with SHINE international poetry community! A World Less Magical |
SHINE - International Poetry Series
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From 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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