Poems: Ashvamegh: Issue I: February

Poems by Clark Cook

Read Poems by Clark Cook



The sea-curve is calm tonight

icy silent, the waves       asleep.

In the dark background

a half-round yellow moon


an indifferent horizon

with gentle possessiveness.


I can create these absorbing images,

perhaps soar to metaphoric heights

that enthrall        you,

that satisfy      me,

but we can never own them–

for shimmering always

on the far rim of time,

flaunting her skirts in casual swirl,

her smile even and assured

over the round of her naked shoulder,

my Muse fades

                 and fades

                             and fades

until she becomes a shadow

in the house of shadows

which I built.


I am never asked inside

though I’ve paid the mortgage

for years,

and always

right on       time.



An Autumn Journey


He emerges from the dark earth

at the bottom of the walnut grove

the air still heavy with dew

mist low to the ground

obscuring the edge of the gravel path

leading up to the ancient oak door


His closed eyes pierce the murk

lightening now behind the tiled roofs,

steeples, and wisping chimneys

from the upper town


His search will begin on the rain-bright

cobbled lanes, always dark from the looming

houses that block the weak sun


Doors close. Windows slide shut. An eye

behind a cracked pane, a curtain-flutter

he knows they watch, trembling

he knows they wait, hoping . . . .


He finds her sitting on an iron bench

under an old tree in the village square,

her flowing white dress fanned out on yellow leaves

at her feet, her white skin glowing in the sun


He sits beside her, wrapping his cape to himself

They say nothing. They have never spoken.

She holds out an oaten cake wrapped in a leaf

he takes it and eats it and when he is done

he gets to his feet and gestures with his hand

and strides away down the lane


He leads her through the town to the oak door

and when he opens it and passes through

a low keening begins from the town, as though

from the very rocks and mortar and beams,

as though from the earth and grasses

and plants


Her white dress follows his black cape

down the narrow graveled path

through the enveloping walnut grove

until they dissolve into the dark earth

again              and are gone.


Only the pale blue sash of her dress remains,

caught on the twisted root of a walnut tree, and

moving faintly in the light autumn breeze.



An introduction to the Poet Clark Cook

Clark Cook taught literature at Simon Fraser University and the University of Victoria (program for inmates, BC Penitentiary) and Communication at BC Polytechnic University. He retired as Head of his department at the Polytechnic.  Clark’s poetry explores the vagaries of love, time, mystery, myth and legend, and the complexities of poetry itself.  He feels that, whatever the intent of the poet, the best of poetry embodies Robert Creeley’s insight that Form is Never More than an Extension of Content.  Clark’s poetry appears in four Anthologies–The Poetic Bond III (2013), The Bridge of Fates (2014), The Poetic Bond IV (2014), and Remember (2014).  All these books are available on Amazon.  Three more poems are featured in an ezine journal, The Greenwich Village Literary Review, vol I, no. 2 (2014) Go to https://thegreenwichvillageliteraryreview.wordpress.com/.  About thirty earlier poems and a few stories can be found at http://moonfroth.hubpages.com.


Poems by Colin Jeffery

Poems by Colin Ian Jeffery 



 ‘Je suis Charlie’

The pen is mightier than the sword

And they shall not subdue

Nor bend our knee to deny

Truth we enshrine within our hearts.


It is our human right to speak out

And have the right to question

Never accepting without examination

Claims by those who would silence us.




They race across the prairie

Stallion in the lead

Chasing the wind

Hooves sounding like thunder.


Prey animals of flight

Running from danger

Seeking somewhere safe

Hiding from predators.


They rest in a valley

Gathered together protecting foals

While the stallion stands guard

Ready to lead them away to safety.



Introduction to the Poet Colin Ian Jeffery

Colin Ian Jeffery (born 1942) is from Surrey, England. He is a prominent literary figure. His early life went through many deprivations. His poems are published in many anthologies, magazines and on many other platforms online.

Poems by Alicja Kuberska

It is She

We pass each other nearly every day,

Distance of fear between us.

Life forces us to mutual disregard and acceptance.

At times, like an unruly child, she will spoil something,

To garner attention, to arrest with a gesture.


I see her in the wind, which carelessly

Turns over the withering leaves

And standing proudly erect in stalks stiffened by frost.

She paints shrivelled trees grey, breaks limbs with a crack.

She is mute in the clenched throats of birds,

She stares with glassy eyes.


She is all-around and she reminds us of her presence.

She patiently explains the meaning of certainty.

I know she does not allow us to take anything,

When she plays the requiem and invites eternal sleep…



A Winning Lot

Life happened to me

With a gift of knowing the good with the bad.

I can capture fleeting thoughts

And stop time with a word.


The everyday delights

Bringing great mysteries,

Constant wonder is my lot.

I marvel how green are the leaves

And how many sounds

Are concealed in the throats of birds.


Exceptional chance

To examine the shapes and colors of clouds,

To feel the menace of lightning.


It is a pity to waste any minute

On senseless sorrows.

I have a one-way ticket!



Balcony Scene 

She is a lone woman
Of average beauty, no longer young.
She is standing on the balcony
And watering the flowers.
For a moment, she is Juliet Capulet.
Only a cup of coffee and a novel about love
Are waiting for her.

He is single with a long life behind him.
He is sitting in the sun
And drinking whiskey with water.
Does he dream of models in fashion magazines?
Those passionate cats with eyes filled with promises!

They do not know each other.
Greetings are killed by the silence




Introduction to the Poet Alicja Kuberska:

Alicja Maria Kuberska (born 1960) is from Poland; she is a member of Polish Writers’ Associations in Warsaw, Poland. She is a renowned literary figure having her hands at poetry, novel and drama.  She has published four volumes of poetry namely The Glass Reality; Analysis of Feelings; Moments; On The Border of Dream; and the novel Virtual Roses.

Poems by Leilanie Stewart

Poems by Leilanie Stewart


The Vacuum of Inner-space

Give them a bit of love;


they’re just musty, fusty appliances.


they are gathering mould and mildew.


sitting untouched, unneeded…



What is the sense

in being a one-hit

google wonder?




The time of the leaves is over;

the leaves are falling

off their tree.

They fall alone

sweeping a path

among the other withering souls

spiralling to their demise.


A few brave ones

dare to touch each other,

knowing it is their autumn;

knowing that while

on the surface, they care

ultimately, it is

a lonely journey!



Introduction to the poet Leilanie Stewart 

Leilanie Stewart is a writer, poet and artist. Her works appeared in various magazines and A Model Archaeologist is her forth-coming book. She also runs creative writing workshops in London. She can be contacted at www.leilaeistewart.wordpress.com.

Poems by Ewa Zelenay

Poems by Ewa Zelenay

So Much of Him

So much of Him – everywhere

in the fluffy edelweiss leaves,

in a the sticky spruce cone,

in shiny squirrel eyes.


So much of Him around!


In dignity of grey granite,

in loud of mountain wind,

in sound glossy creeks

that so close to Him,


in high mountain passes

under spread clouds

in sunshine that blinds

You really feel Him…


And you bow down on your knees;

breathless and in shock!


That is nothing – only GOD.



Introduction to the Poet Ewa Zelenay:

Ewa Zelenay – poet, journalist, writer. Head Board member Polish Literates Union. Graduate in journalism and cultural research. Air and space are subjects for many of her poems. She spent many years in the sky – working Polish National Air Carrier  LOT as flight attendant.

Poems by Richard Atwood


Poems by Richard Atwood


modern laurels, values

poetry is now a race of words, rash

of splattered frecklings, rage

intertwined with lack of reason, making

common sense illogical, justified

only to the editors, alien

this planet has never seen… while

whoops of siren-songs gleam wet

on ambulance darkened streets, under

impossible clouds, where the rain spits

down, keeps going and going and going

towards rainbows dreamed of, never



we have come home: the vampires

staring us in the face on bookshelves

devoid of lions, buttercups, things we might

relate to.       anymore it is all one’s guessing,

the game to play what goal?  we totally

screwed it up, over and under… above

the nonsense

there is a noise

very quiet


or was it

some screeching diva,

popular now… before

my soul broke a thousand strings

under the commercials

sex all over the magazines

– praying

why, God, why?!!




To love

is to be, to do, and

to share


you, with your self, and the

things thereof


with and for another


together, alone and





the stretch and the climb

and the fall


(pouring everything out in the rain,

slugging hip-deep through the mud)


winter days or

sunrise        parts of the moon

and all the stars


a rip in the ocean,

splash in the creek


that soft hand with its



quiet on the brow

dipped in a kiss


brushing, listening…





Introduction to the poet:

Born in Baltimore, raised in York County, Pennsylvania, Rick served in the USAF with tours in Greece, Turkey, and Germany.  He was educated at Univ. of Md. Extension while in Europe, and in the U.S. at Santa Monica College and California State University, Northridge.  Rick has lived in Los Angeles and Denver; currently in Wichita, Kansas. He has also been published in several literary journals such as the New England Review (CT), Plainsongs, Poetpourri, Riverrun and in others.

Poem by MG

The Broken Poem

by MG

In pains, suddenly she learnt to bask.

The world she told and consoled

‘I am happy being alone.’

Deep inside, though the sorrow was

Buried and she aghast!


‘Sometimes words are more than just words…’


The pain she felt,

Seemed to suck her life away.

A turn in the tide of hearty emotions and

‘Never regret falling for the wrong guy’

She cried!

(Betraying others or the other part of herself?)


She had to lose,

Lose him because losing

Was the only solution

To come out of the dense


Mending the house which has

No bricks or sands to stand,

Letting it fall was best,

Deep down, she did understand.


Broken? And now that is all?

You try to see if you hide,

Your eyes will say it all!


The broken hearts,

Now she understood.

How he made her fall in pieces

And left no piece for her to pick;

Was this the love of Romeo?

Or it clapped the Iago sick?


‘Be grateful to your past, for,

‘It made you much stronger and wiser

‘And did let you know

‘The world is… yes… miser!’


The love… you know when love is true?

When He comes always for you

In fear, tear and cheer…



Introduction to the poet:

Mona, also known as MG, is an aspirant fashion designer from Mumbai. She was a happy soul until a severe heartbreak made her a sick and disgusted girl. However, she recovered herself with the course of time and now she is good once again.

Here, she tries to pour her heart out in few words. Twitter handle – http://twitter.com/Mona2237

Poems by Ken W Simpson

Poems by Ken W Simpson



doomed to fade

betray the light

on sad and gloomy days.


The paranoia

of the deluded mind

feeds on myths

of the miraculous kind.


Ferocious beasts of ill repute

have all it takes

to run for president

of the United States.



As You Were

A clock chimed half past nine

leaving images behind

on eyeballs

of grass growing in a park

bloated joys

and the buzz of love

swimming like tadpoles

in a goldfish bowl.





Introduction to the Poet:

Ken began writing poetry in about 2000. His first collection was published by SBPRA in 2010, followed by five or six more collections from SBPRA and Hemkunt (New Delhi). He lives with his daughter, her husband and four grandchildren at Lysterfield, another Melbourne suburb. Two new collections of Ken are to be published this year by Augur Press (UK) and Poetry Space (UK). Moreover, Ken has accepted warmly the request of Ashvamegh Team to work as a member of the advisory board. He often provides inputs to the team and that prove valuable!

Poems by Justin Clemens

Poems by Justin Clemens


Ce th

E mist

Akes f

Low fro

M a

N eye

‘S follow

Ing line

Age un

Der cond

It ions

Too lite

Ra l to




S n birds

two bones in hand

heart meniscus fires




Gob’s slobber slops over

thick plastic rims’ rings

tight in the robot craw.


Gums’ rot pales to yellow flakes

decking the long pink throats’

lost parade.


Lurching from spurt to spasm

no thought can wend

these labyrinths

of cells without



It was never fire the storm

that ravelled cells like waves

of unseen air’s grey earth

swarming lost graves.


Out into crystal fires

of immutability the sewer stares

to tide the vowels’ rote consonance

with rippled air’s blind insolence

as though the habits of uncounted stars

despaired of eyes before.



Introduction to the Poet:

Justin Clemens is a Ph.D. holder from university of Melbourne, at present working as a lecturer in the same university. He is well known as a commentator on Australian art and literature, and his essays and reviews have appeared in The Age, The Australian, The Monthly, Meanjin, Overland, Arena Magazine, TEXT, Un Magazine, Discipline, The Sydney Review of Books, and many others.  His major works are based on Psychoanalysis, contemporary European philosophy. His major published works are LacanDeleuzeBadio, Antiphilosophy and Minimal Domination.

Poem by Michelle Noonan

Poem by Michelle Noonan

Violet Visions

Visions of you

Stream through my soul,

As sunset approaches,

I have only one goal.


Wrapped in a passionate envelope with you,

My whole body shudders when I think of you two.

Violet waves over, stretched at the seams,

With the full force of nature,

Coming down hard.


A glazed reflection, a silhouette of her face,

Guides me through softly to a gentle embrace,


Infusion of colour, the rose garden awaits,

Her hair hangs down, on the archway nearby,

I turn away from her, I don’t wish to pry.


You whisper something to her, as my heart it weeps.

Our love for her, sparking fire in the sky,
As the orange rose blooms, just for you and I.




Introduction to the Poet:

Michelle is a young lady from Melbourne. She loves to dwell in natural beauty and often has a walk to forest. She has passion for music and poetry. She released her maiden poetry book last year – “Sensual Whispers”.