Whatever is Below the Roof

By Caleb Helfrick



At dawn is when the monsters decide to climb out of my ceiling
The tiny crevices between the tops and the walls are no match for their slither
These snakes fly from the sky and enter my room with ease
Watching me bite the apple that tastes like knowledge and pride
This is the thin line you see in-between heaven and hell
The texture of fruit is not so important in this type of moment
But as I finish my snack I look back up at the sky
Just to see nothing but snake skins stretched by a popcorn ceilings


Caleb Helfrick is an actor based in Longview, TX that has in interest in writing. He has been filling up his “Notes” app and journals with poetry since 2019. This year he has decided to submit poems for publishing. His first and only published poem titled, “The Tooth Fairy Grins” can be found on Navy Pen’s website. Follow Caleb on Instagram @calebhelfrick.

I lay on the grass and worry

By Dmitriy Kogan



I lay on the grass and worry
as the stars stare down at their second lives
I think about every global event
not so important
in the grand scheme of things
as the only thing I feel is
my head on the grass
and the chill of the wind
on my feet

Dmitriy Kogan is a short story writer and poet from Staten Island, New York. His work is forthcoming in Straylight Magazine, BULL, Close to the Bone, and Some Words. Read his other stuff at dmitriykogan.net and follow him on X at dmitriykogan.

THE STARS HAVE SECOND LIVES

By Shailendra Ahangama

The stars stare down at their second lives
From the grand, velvet firmament.
Their glowing forms are imitated in
A great oblong lake in the countryside.
Far above us in unfathomable heights
Born from the marriages of gases and dust,
Sentries born to burn till their demise,
How they inspire great awe and wonder!
But these complexities of space
Are easily reflected in a body of water
Surrounded by paddy fields and cat-tail reeds.
The stars wish to descend from
Their cold, insular celestial throne
And be a part of this bucolic communion.
The lake wishes to ascend from its simple rural refuge
To become an astral body worthy of adulation.
These are passions that stir conflict and contention,
Yet they are all extinguished gradually
As the minutes approach the dawn.


Shailendra Ahangama is an aspiring writer from Sri Lanka, who also loves music, nature and film. He has published a poetry anthology, titled 'The Beauty Of Becoming' in 2019. His work has also been published on The Piker Press, The Worlds Within and Small World City. Find him on IG @shailo17_ah.

NIGHTMARE AS VILLANELLE MINUS ONE

By Ian Parker

Where is it you have gone?
I have been reeling in the hours
as the minutes approach the dawn.

Bleached my hair and keep it shorn,
my eyeballs are falling out.
Where is it you have gone?

Tears go off like a bomb,
leaving me in emotional drought
as the seconds approach the dawn.

My legs have etched in the lawn
a path of retreaded doubt —
where is it you have gone?

Leave me to carrion,
the remains of me without
where it is that you’ve gone
as the sun retreats from dawn.


Ian Parker is a poet, musician, and photographer living in Portland, OR. He has been previously published by wildscape. literary journal, Mikrokosmos Literary Journal, and Thimble Literary Magazine, among others. Find him on IG @gloomsayer_ and gloomsayer.bearblog.dev