Poetry

Wednesday the banks shuttered, the shop shelves went majestically bare. Not that it mattered. We were out of work, our currency not worth its paper.

May we never forget that we all belong and share the space – that is Mother Earth.

All hands on deck aflame our capsizing boat lonely sinking only planet

Phases of the moon. Again mirrors. Worlds in her.

She said she was on fire, ending the line with three little flames

A chilling reflection on the witnessing of past and current atrocities

Birds observe human disconnection from nature and quietude.

Poet-guitarist Paul Serralheiro pays respect to Montréal’s historic jazz artists.

A delicate interplay between the fragility of life and the nuanced dance of relationships

Something alive under the snow makes it shiver like it’s asking not to be shovelled, scraped, or salted.

For more on Kathryn Jordan’s writing, photography and events, or to buy her book, please visit her website.

Each body remembers the necessary distance between lovers  the space & touch, here & recalled

forest berries grow  by the cool rushing creek  scent of irises

Passing the gatekeepers four times with the rite answers we left you there in the garden

In an Urdu poem, Iftekhar Ahmed expresses love and acceptance for his trans child, bridging cultural heritage with the language of understanding.

Montréal poet Katharine Beeman shares two poems about quantum entanglement and binaries.

in which I am no longer the centre of the universe

A tartaruga escapa da faca afilada

Note on the poems and images Poems originally published in Swedish in Vad jag saknades här (Stockholm: Bokförlaget Lejd, 2018). English by Nicola Vulpe. Images from the series philosophy of a tree by Gazelle Bastan (2022)

Walls You tell me you are not like me. Nor am I like you, but obliterating my thoughts, my feelings, my senses was not yours to do. It was my place as well as yours and if I chose not […]

Pororoca Do you hear the lament of the deep riverwhere you played as a childlaughed when youngand in which you drown today? Playful shorestickling water lettucesexcited crabshiding in the warm sandwhere you dipped your feetfreelyyour cleaned handsoverflowingwith the fullnessof the […]

    Chernobyl II Revelation 8:10-11 “… the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.” We are the Chernobyl babushkas wearing black kerchiefs. We are the ones with radiation sickness. We are […]

    AT THE END OF THE YARD Because after much meandering I’ve determined the world is that new bicycle, its chrome menace: Tour de France, Giro d’Italia, that hill. And because we laid out the table in the garden, […]

  There Was a Wind There was a wind blowing outside, a dog barking, flashing headlights. When your stomach turned black in your RV, you finally got scared. You decided the time had come to softly drift. All you needed […]

      Concertina   Think of all the times you haven’t been thwarted by your teeth and tongue, your clavicle and ulnas, femurs and gut. Body says, This one’s on me. Brain says, What’s remembered lives; It’s alright not […]