In this month of love, passion, and happy endings, Inscape proudly presents to you, the February Folio! It features writers from your own school and from around the world, professing their raw and innermost feelings. In this heartfelt segment, the metaphors, symbolism, and diction might just provoke a smile from you. Dive into "my companion: the creek," in which Linda M. Crate reveals who or what her solace, her comfort, and her true love is. In "No Furniture, Yet," Adrian Cepeda talks of new love, while in "Moments of Monotony," Rebecca Pulford speaks of one enhanced by time, where their days are spent in peace. We hope you enjoy reading this collection of letters and poems as much as we did.
No Furniture, Yet from Duane Michals photograph Newlyweds at the Window by Adrian Cepeda
So much space, white walls surrounding them, no second hand chairs, brother-in-law cat bitten couches, super-glued dinner table, nothing... just wood, no dangling canvases from some unknown artist, photographic frames still waiting to be filled, by the window these newlyweds yearn, despite the chill of excitement, again, she reaches him, not thinking of the nails— stroking his devoted mallet, this fixer upper, with the loudest vows, she loves the way he scopes out your landscape, feeling more than just his fingers, taking mental pictures, letting the neighbors see your honeymoon glow, this wife still amazed how she loves to feel him against the wall like the L'Origine du Monde masterpiece she giggles while handing him... his hammer divine and dropping soft tapping screws in his palm, conjuring so many more large head, extra wide married fantasies, already undressing him with each dripping sigh, loving the wrinkles, gray hair on his chest entices her, not just playing house, instantly distracting him she sends her husband lascivious signals, a Valentine invitation desiring more than sweat from her enticing lips, he subtly glimpses the softest opening of what is to yet to come...
My name is Adrian Ernesto Cepeda and I am a poet living in Los Angeles. Although I have been writing poetry for over twenty years, it’s been within the recent years that my poems have begun flourishing, catching lyrical fire. 2018 has been the most successful year of my career as a poet. My first poetry chapbook So Many Flowers, So Little Time was published by Red Mare Press and my first full-length poetry collection Flashes & Verses... Becoming Attraction was published by Unsolicited Press. 2019 saw the publication of Between the Spine, a collection of erotic love poems published with Picture Show Press. Next year will bring the publication of La Belle Ajar a collection of cento poems inspired by Sylvia Plath's 1963 novel, to be published in 2020 by CLASH Books.
Rain On My Heart by Aurora Lyons
Stars on your shoulder, stars in my eyes; My mind is afraid of how much my heart wants you. I keep waiting for you to fade away Like the rain in California, But then I look and you still stay, Making me sing “Hallelujah!” The sweetness in your smile (Crooked like your glasses), A feeling I have long forgotten, Has awoken something in me. Like a cold glass of water after a run, You’re fresh and new and relaxing. I’m blown away by your imperfections: Your words, your laugh, your teasing smile. Every scar, every bruise, every flaw is beautiful. I love that space between your teeth, Your soft beard rubbing against my face, And your fuzzy soft cuddly chest, my home. Your hands, softer than velvet, Touch me in a way I have not known before. Your skin, caressed by the sun, Is the perfect shade throughout. It must have been kissed by a million angels, Leaving beautiful spots across the landscape of you. My heart beats crazy for you, Missing you when you take just one step away from me. Like the time we spend together, You are imperfect and cherished. So cute and endearing, funny and smart Romantic and strong, you are my rock. Like the shine on the street after a storm, You look at me like I’m brand new. Your love is sifting through me, Cleaning away the debris on my heart Like a tree in a windstorm Or the air after a rainfall. We’re both praying this love will last, We’re working on it despite us both being lost. I tried to give you a proper warning-- To give you enough time to change your mind. But you still want to wake up to a cold morning And find that I’m by your side.
Aurora Lyons was born and raised in Highland Park where she began to write stories at the young age of six (before she even knew what punctuation was). She wrote her first novel at age eleven and completed two more by the end of high school. Lyons currently writes poetry to express and convey the hidden depths of people’s deepest emotions. Lyons dreams of becoming a copy editor and a successful author and currently attends PCC with the goal of transferring and obtaining a double Bachelor's in English and Communication Studies.
Take My Offering by Bea Bolongaita
I have turned a year older and it is not to my benefit. I mark this year by eating sweets that make my throat swell yellow-spotted-red, that work my jaw which aches and cracks in the tunnel of my ear. When I was younger I asked for one of those edible arrangements, fruit cut into shapes like stars and put on skewers and displayed like that ostensorium I cut out of construction paper, anything is better than buying cheap chocolate cake from Kroger I eat out of obligation that lasts three weeks in the fridge before it contracts mold. All I want to do now is find a rust-covered needle and puncture my stomach and let all that yellow-green pus ooze and drain until I am flat as a board. I suppose that is not a normal birthday wish.
Bea Bolongaita is a young poet from Dublin, Ohio. She is a junior at Dublin Jerome High School and is currently in the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme. She attended the Kenyon Review Young Writers Program in July 2019. When she’s not writing, Bea enjoys playing the violin, participating in high school mock trial, and watching copious amounts of Gilmore Girls.
If Eternity by Cassidy Nakata
Even time is jealous Of your beauty--
Of which I could love To the limits of eternity
In this truest immensity Of space--
If eternity could ever Possibly have limits.
Cassidy Nakata is a poet and work as creative copywriter from Jakarta, Indonesia. Growing up in such ethnically diverse nation has shaped his interesting relationship with writing and the nature in it. He is currently finishing a degree in Mass Communication & Digital Journalism at BINUS University.
The Magic of Haibun by Donald Krieger
eye glasses in hand, so close we stand this bright morning
speaking of haibun, a Japanese form, free verse which cannot contain itself bursts forth into haiku
third line a surprise otherwise disappointment who wants just a turn?
my hand on her waist, hers on my neck
at the end of day when it bursts forth in real life it's not just haiku
Don is a biomedical researcher living in Pittsburgh, PA. His essays and poetry have appeared online in Uppagus Magazine, Entropy, Vox Populi Sphere, Verse Virtual, Tuck, and others, in print in Hanging Loose (1972) and Neurology, and in several print anthologies including in both English and Farsi in Persian Sugar in English Tea, Volumes I and III.
A Poem About You by Jennifer Carr
you are the subject of this poem the inspiration behind every word driving emotions into my heart the beauty behind every line you are the heart in this poem where my heart finds its rhythm in your heart beat the rhythm adding breath to the beauty of my life the spectrum of light within the stanzas the colors I never knew until now
Jennifer Carr lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico with her partner and two children. She is an EMT, firefighter, author and poet. When she is not working at the local hospital or firehouse, she spends way too much time reading and writing poetry. Her poetry has been published in print and in on-line publications. Jennifer loves flying by her own wings and looks for any opportunity to soar to new heights.
If It's Alright With You by Josh Lefkowitz
I want to die first. You can go too but later.
Reason? Well, besides because grief is so nearly unbearable,
it’s really just this: I won’t be able to mimic your mind.
Love, it’s your mind I love most. Mine, I already know too well:
grooves worn through the same lame record I’ve been playing since birth.
But you with your wicked wit and insatiably curious disposition
have led me towards the endless New. Without you, I’d be left wondering:
What would she say here, in response? And no one else I’ve ever met would know.
In your absence, the script would be mere stage directions: [Jackie says something delightful/unexpected]
[Jackie replies and makes me choke on my milk] [Jackie illuminates the human condition in a single perfect sentence]
So – all this to reiterate – I’m hoping I fade to black first.
Then you can wear it for a while. Midnight shades look good on you, anyhow.
But for now, let’s live longer, okay? I want more time with that brain!
And yes, the sex, too. This couplet’s devoted to what bodies do.
And the last one’s in honor of the luck that we met, plus however many tomorrows we get – as a form of prayer, I’m making this line extra-long.
Josh Lefkowitz received an Avery Hopwood Award for Poetry at the University of Michigan. His poems and essays have been published in The New York Times, New Poetry from the Midwest 2019, Washington Square Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Electric Literature, Barrelhouse online, The Millions, and many other places. Additionally, his poems have been read aloud on All Things Considered and WNYC.
Future Love Letter To A Special Someone by Kristen Brown
Hello Darling, I was thinking of you today and recalling our first meeting. Do you remember? It was a Friday evening in the middle of spring. The carnival had set up just outside of town and there were soft fields of flowers as far as the eye can see. The games were cheesy but I won you that Paddington Bear you’d wanted. I still can’t believe you kept that old thing. The best part of the night though…was the Ferris wheel. Remember? We got all the way to the top and it was just me, you and the stars looking back at us. It was a great start to the rest of our lives. Our anniversary is coming up soon and the years have gone by quicker than I ever could’ve imagined. I was thinking back on all of that. I know how lucky and fortunate I’ve been to have you in my life. You are one of the most thoughtful, caring, hardworking people I know and I love you so much. I know you know most of this anyway but, I wanted to say it just because ;) Cheers to the blessed years we’ve had together and to the many years to come.
Happy Birthday Darling. I Love You
Anonymous
Kristen Brown is a Louisiana native and a graduate of the University of Mississippi.
my companion: the creek by Linda M. Crate
i haven't had a valentine in so many years, but i value the love of my family and friends; what i find i love the most outside of them is the creek-- she washes away my worries, and catches vibrant light; each of her stones is more beautiful than the gems of a crown-- she glitters in the sunlight and sighs in the moonlight, whispers in the rain, and sing with the wind; she is a constant companion and a friend washing away the stinging words of mankind and all the wounds from their silence when i needed comfort-- she listens to my rage and instead offers healing and peace.
Linda M. Crate's poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has six published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), and splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019), and one micro-chapbook Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018). She is also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018).
Moon Goddess by Michael Carroll
Brown, flowing locks that lie, beautifully unchanging, “River Deep, Mountain High” like the Euphrates.
Piercing, sultryeyes with wings that fly straight toward his soul, like comets, soaring in the night’s sky.
Lips akin to the petals of of pitaya—that spread asunder like God himself, parting the Red Sea.
Her Nemes headdress dripping in gold, crown bedazzled with jewels from Sierra-Leone.
Like the tide, her mind controls the flow of blood in his veins-- he does backflips, and handsprings... spurts of red, rushing to his face whenever she utters his name.
Goddess of the Moon sings sonnets to this man’s lonely heart. He clings to the tinge of her light—to keep from drifting, into the dark.
Michael B. Carroll Jr. is a poet, singer-songwriter from Philadelphia, PA. He has published creative work in The Esthetic Apostle Literary Magazine, Maudlin House, Wingless Dreamer, and Cathexis Northwest Press. His first chapbook "The Dichotomy Between Light and Dark" is available now. He's always referred to himself as a lover, not a fighter. Although, he battles the urge to indulge in glutenous foods on a daily basis. When he's not at the coffeehouse writing poems about his exes, Michael can be found either pumping iron at Retro Fitness, or on INSTAGRAM: @sirdukeofwagadu.
My First Love Letter by Morgaine van Wingerden
I want to dive into your depths. Immerse myself fully in your love. For as long as our two minds meet. For as long as my skin is charged by the thought of you. For as long as I can feel you in my heart, my bones, my blood, no matter the distance between us. I want to free fall off the edge of my cynicism and grasp your hand as you take the plunge too. I know I'm screaming validate me But please, be real. Let this leap be worth it. Tell me you love me again. Show me your desire and I will show you mine.
Yet still I hold back. Linger in doubt. Maybe I'm not ready to give up exploring. Not ready to commit myself to one love. Not ready to give up losing my clothes too soon to the empty touch of routine foreplay, Selfish moments and embarrassing facial distortions, As another man slakes his lust upon my person in an agonising session of assisted masturbation. Maybe I'm not ready to give up being used and disregarded, Consumed by feelings of inadequacy as another tepid lover fails to call me 'baby.’ Not ready to give up fearing being called a slut, Another conquest, Because I gave it up as easily as they did. Not ready to give up caring if others want me, Because all I'll want is you.
Or maybe my biggest fear is that I will fall so hard, That when my heart is broken more than it ever was before, I will lose something I can never get back. I don't want to face another asshole, whether it be another man I let into my bed Or myself as I ask another good man to leave. I don't want to be another actor, pretending to amiability and interest While filled with sheer panic and boredom.
So I ask this with full awareness of my own neuroses. Be real. Do not send me back to lacklustre encounters, Hoping that the next one will know my body with some great intuition. I want to hold on to this feeling that I have found what everyone is searching for. That one that they can hold until the Earth reclaims them. Do not let me descend into the world of inadequate lovers, Searching, ever searching For what I've found in you.
Morgaine van Wingerden is a Melbourne based poet and spoken word performer. She has performed internationally and across Australia, featuring at a number of established and emerging poetry performance events. She was the Melbourne representative in the inaugeral UNESCO City of Literature Slam-O-Vision where she won people's choice award.
Moments of Monotony by Rosie Greens
I care not for botany I care more for the moments of monotony The peace and silence of the extraordinary in the ordinary Finding the imperfect, perfectly perfect Creating a masterpiece of our broken pieces
Every song and sonnet came true Every fantasy couldn’t compare
Together, there is nothing in the world we couldn’t do There is no long periods of despair We is simply me and you There is no need to be aware And for me that is enough So hold me tight even if it gets tough
For you, I will cross fiery pits ‘Cause I love you to bits Do not shower me in gifts Just sit with me in this moment of monotony Enjoy the peace and silence of the extraordinary in the ordinary Find the imperfect, perfectly perfect Creating a masterpiece of our broken pieces
Rosie Greens currently lives and works in Dallas, Texas. She is currently completing her degree in International Political Economy at The University of Texas at Dallas. She currently works as a blogger at Culture Adventurer, covering topics from books to special exhibits. In the future, she hopes to produce more literary works to share with audiences all over the world.
Feelings Sent For Thee by Sean Ban
Beyond the ocean, I send my feelings to you. Nothing can stop me.
All I want to say is that "I love you."
Sean Ban is an aspiring poet currently attending PCC. He hopes to learn more about the different styles of poetry to help further his craft and find his voice.