issue 11: solar

Sniffing Daisies

- b.d. (bio)

You’re the flower that flourished
out in the corner of my mind.
There’s millions of flowers,
why stop for the daisies?

I’ve imagined this day before,
yet when I’m used to your scent,
I realize that daisies are our friends too;
they always have been,
we’re just too engrossed with ourselves
to stop and enjoy the weeds
every once and awhile.


- a.b. (bio)

When you look at the stars in cimerrian sky,
Do you remember that each cold glowing orb
is hot?
Each field of darkness is a memory yet unmade.
Each gleaming twinkle a prayer for your infinite eyes.

When your fingers trace paths in my palms,
do you feel ripped apart by great fate?
A causal ripple we are; yet you are my destiny.
Each amorous touch an offering that prolongs our flame.

When the auroral sky sings to morning dew,
do you in every gleam see celestial grandeur?
Does the morning rime remind of my warm
breath against your ear?
Of warm rain, of wet hair.

In the darkest summer sky,
when a thousand thousand fireflies mirror the bespeckled
Our hearts resonate, soundless.


- a.g. (bio)

Day seeps into night,
Much like one falls in love.


We live and laugh,
Perceptions shift,
And we stare,
Barely seeing as our world reels.

And suddenly we wake,
Open our eyes,
And rejoice.

For we find no greater beauty,
Than our first look to the stars.

On God

- a.g. (bio)

A man asks God,
What are you?

And God does not reply.

The seasons change,
The world turns,
The man lives and loves,
Each day,

He thrives in life,
Finding happiness,
Amongst successes,
And even in failure,
Always grateful for life.

One day,
The man no longer lives,
His life determined.

And he stands before God,

Who smiles.

“I am you.”

“All that you are,
I am.”

“I am your smile,
Your love,
And your gratitude.”

“You live in my image,
And I in turn,
In yours.”


- j.h. (bio)

Today was once tomorrow.
With yesterday still to come.
The future's out in front by far.
But the past already won.

The days become the weeks.
but months they leave behind.
The year is what they reach.
But decade's all they find.

This war will last forever,
With each battle in the mind.
Each loss will stand together,
For the enemy is time.

Clarity of Thought

- terrence bull (bio)

In a moment stretching beyond reason, a thought reverberates in time.


A drop of water forms in unending slowness. A budding jewel glistening in the sun reflecting a wonder of colour. A small window to another world where all is calm and serene.


Meadows of green undulate under a luminescent turquoise sky. All is silent. A distant eye spies an old thatched cottage planted in a bed of daisies. Tall pines surround their sole charge reaching for the sun. Their toes nuzzle in a vast bed of moss. A small trickle of water carves out its own path. Its laughter runs between giants whose limbs reach across rich banks to hold hands.

White frosting covers towering purple peaks peering over the pine lovers. Ragged grey gems cascade down their slopes, tumbling and cavorting with each other in a game of joyous children.

Melting cold gives birth to laughing brooks, as rivers spring from tears. Rolling, tumbling, fumbling gem children are herded towards a distant shore. Slowly they get lost in a dream and forget themselves. Big angular and bold become small and smooth. Small begets small to birth a myriad of grains. Washed clean they reach the beach and snuggle together in the bright warmth of a friendly sun.


Tiny feet, smooth and soft, dance over the memory of gem children. Each impression is caressed by a crowd of sparkling white fledglings desperate to savour this momentary touch and remember where they came from. Yet soon they are stroked back to sleep and smoothed over by the gentle hand of mother. And such a mother: vast is her reach and powerful her love, filling endless basins to overflowing.

A giggle tinkles over the shore as our child races into her mommy’s embrace. Sandy curls skip around light blue eyes full of joy and innocence. Tiny arms circle a tender neck. Rose lips caress rosy checks.

Knowing eyes look to heaven, spying a gathering storm. Whispering soothing blankets of love, mommy whisks her precious away to shelter.


Soon the sky is full to overflowing. Tiny drops fall in unending slowness carrying with them the clarity of thought.

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- anon

end of issue 11. go back to issues page.

the poetry juicebox
an international poetry & art publication
the poetry juicebox