issue 18: home

Lavender Sachets.

- n.b. (bio)

One night
she came home alone
and slumped into
a dozen throw-pillows
clustered like fungi
on her floral couch—

face down in polyester
everything smelled like
musty lavender
wilted bra straps
and the wandering musk
of a man that never stays.

The City. (haiku)
- n.b. (bio)


Bulldozed skyscraper—
white collars and fat pigeons
linger in the sun.

Personal Verse

- c.s. (bio)

I never knew those problems you had
was 'you' seeking some help,

My impulses refract,

every gulp in this mask keeps teaching me.

A constant need to repel those problems you had?
I've always seen in myself.

I don't know, maybe I needed the help
but I was just the freak who would yell,

I'm always freaking out.

There's a beast in this shell,
something I've always hated to see in myself,

slow it down, let me rewind,
it's only because I didn't believe it would help,

Now I see it myself. Every night I'd get home,
I'd let it all sleep on the shelf,

sort of like a collage of problems,
a reminder to things I keep to myself.

My silver lining's a neurotic mess,
fighting this caustic stress as it all tends to echo,

Bong rips til I'd get strep throat,
I'd smoke out the obvious til all I'd feel is I'm needing the help.

That's only a fading feeling that sleeps in myself.

Talking to Myself.

- araya sunshine (bio)


We have our own place in the universe.

I try to live and breathe, I try to speak as me.

This world is full of untold divinity.

Our life is on a thin string that we weave onto the tapestry.
Our choices make our personalities; we’re defined by our fortunes and tragedies.

We're constantly observing others, but they're temporary to our personal realities.

Information gathering, what we know from discoveries.
Uncovering mysteries while we write our own stories.
Actions of intelligence or stupidity, creating freedoms or penalties.


If this is the path of our destinies,
Is yours devilish or heavenly?

Home on the River

- a.k. (bio)


The river synonymous to home
Remembering the way by a single tree
Guided by the river's holm
Traveling sea to river, river to sea

We glide around the river bend
The water smooth as glass
My body blanketed by the wind
Moving so fast

The music loud
The kids asleep
The parents plowed
The possibilities deep

A feeling I will never forget
These moments so serine
Calm moments were hard to get
Felt more like a lucid dream

Growing up a southern belle
I cherish that label
Now a Yankee, you couldn’t tell
But I am eternally grateful


Mini Landscape 5

- anon


Mini Landscape 6

- anon

end of issue 18. go back to issues page.

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