Monthly Archives: November 2019

A Spring of Loss by Shearle Furnish

Grassfires skirt the west edge of town.
                The sirens sound like far-off geese.
                 I miss the rain.

Apricot trees wear their full crown of white
               Too early — late frosts will steal the crop,
               And I will miss the fruit.

The breeze, the chimes, the birds are still,
                The feeders empty and unvisited.
                In the pleasant air of evening, I miss the song.

Shearle Furnish is retired as Professor of English and Founding Dean of the College of Arts, Letters, and Sciences at the University of Arkansas at Little Rock and taught English for 33 years in Kentucky, North Carolina, and Texas. Furnish also served in administration at Youngstown State University before moving to Arkansas.

Six Poems for Autumn from the ZPR Archives

As autumn colors fade to bare limbs and stark skies, take a few minutes to contemplate these autumnal poems previously published on Zingara Poetry Review,

The Last Massacre in my Lonely Notebook by David Spicer

November, 1993 by Jenn Powers

Squall by Jennifer Lagier

Forecast by Amanda Banner

Softly by Carol Alena Aronoff

Sleeping with Squirrels by Tracy Mishkin

A Sun of Unknown Night by Hongri Yuan

I believe that black stones spawn the honey of the heaven
And the death brings us the Golden Dawn
The earth is our other body
While the oceans are initially sweet and serene eyes
My every tear is burning
Bearing a diamond
And when my body is consigned to the flames
Heaven begins to enter my body
At this time I bloom in death
Like a sun of unknown night


Hongri Yuan, born in China in 1962, is a poet and philosopher interested particularly in creation. Representative works include Platinum City, Gold City, Golden Paradise , Gold Sun and Golden Giant. His poetry has been published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria.

Ugliness came up by Kitty Jospé

                        in conversation  today—
a word for when things go wrong.
the daily ugly of what shouldn’t be.

All that we avoid mentioning:
ugly of shootings of innocents,
exploitation, slavery; the ugly tone
of the powerful, the ugly tone
of irrational words, self-serving
policies… All the times we answer
fine but it isn’t.  The unspoken in
Untitled. How close the word skims
you figure it out yourself, in a skinned dis-
connect.   No clue.  Not interested in you.

Let’s start with a teen-age boy.
His detention center doesn’t allow any kindness,
any touch.  But, someone volunteered to teach
a writing class where he wrote about wanting to be a bird,
fly to where he could meet summer and fall
in Honduras.  You wouldn’t call something
like that Untitled.  Nor would you call it
Today With a Dash of Yearning…
or talk about how Tomorrow will be dressed.
Whatever the title, his writing will help him
when ugliness comes up.  And now,
tell me about you. How do you cope
when ugliness comes up?

Kitty Jospé holds an MA in French Literature, NY University and an MFA Poetry Pacific University, OR. (2009). She has been Art Docent since 1998 at the Memorial Art Gallery, Rochester, NY and since 2008 she has been moderating weekly poetry sessions. Her work has appeared in many journals and published in five books of her poems as well as other anthologies.

Like dublin by DS Maolalai

under the boiling pot
dropped leaves
smolder; the top of a litterbin
filled with cigarettes
and reducing to soup
on a dry afternoon. summer,
full of that smoky air
and missing fire. those little pops and cracks
like walking barefoot
and stepping on crisp packets. like dublin;
walking up o’connell street
while the sun shines
and everyone dresses
comfortably. men in shorts, t-shirts
and football jerseys
sliding over chests and bellies
as if loose water
were tumbling on rocks.
women too;
those airy dresses,
showing more of their legs
than the men even. sunglasses all over,
black as burned vegetables. earth slipping, filling with scent
and a hot meat market. in the pot at home,
outside of the city,
vegetables boil among fistfuls of ham. the air is humid,
the windows shut, full of steam
and the smell of toasting broccoli.
at the kitchen table
I open my shirt down as far as the belly,
lean back, and remember walking
home.

DS Maolalai has been nominated for Best of the Web and twice for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019)

Un Chien Andalou by James Penha

after—well after—Luis Buñuel’s 1929 film

I finger the stropped razor ready
to slice an eyeball
surrealistically enough
to turn my head in the clouds
cutting the moon and so who is blind?
she? he? me? eyes curbed after the bike collapses
and we are undressed for bed with ants in hand. Give her
a hand! I want to hold your hand;
the accidental dead want to hold breast and butt hold
on she tosses
she will serve no fault—
the undead eschew tennis
for a strongest man competition lugging
grand steinways, church, dead
dog. Dead? The undress awakens aroused by a dick
demanding he make a man or two of himself
to read to write to duel like Burr and Hamilton
in a New Jersey meadow from which a moth
on the New Jersey shore on which a melted watch
tells who lives who dies who tells your story


A native New Yorker, James Penha has lived for the past quarter-century in Indonesia. Nominated for Pushcart Prizes in fiction and poetry, his verse appears this year in Headcase: LGBTQ Writers & Artists on Mental Health and Wellness published by Oxford UP and Lovejets: queer male poets on 200 years of Walt Whitman from Squares and Rebels. His essay “It’s Been a Long Time Coming” was featured in The New York Times “Modern Love” column in April 2016. Penha edits The New Verse News, an online journal of current-events poetry. Twitter: @JamesPenha

2019 Best of the Net Nominations

Zingara Poetry Review is happy to announce 2019’s “Best of the Net” Nominees:
 
A Flower Rests by Jerry Wemple, September 5, 2018
 
Insomniac by Danielle Wong, October 3, 2018
 
 
Poems must meet the following minimum qualifications for nomination:
  • Submissions must come from the editor of the publication (journal, chapbook, online press, etc), or, if the work is self-published, it must be sent by the author.
  • Submissions must have originally appeared online, though later print versions are acceptable.
  • The poem, story, or essay must have been first published or appeared on the web between July 1, 2018 and June 30, 2019.
  • Submissions must be sent between July 1st and September 30th, 2019.

Best of luck to this year’s nominees!!