Poems from Issue #3

I pushed so hard
against everything
with anger, pride,
and new found intellectualism
Suffering humbled me
and rejection colored me

While pain
and misunderstanding
buffeted me
to find myself
the oppressed
and the oppressor
and checking my mouth
before I scream and yell
to walk in peace

Become a prophet,
poet and artist

To hug boldly,
trust deeply
and show love
to the fringe and
marginalized farthest

But maybe
a reimagining and
a dream of progressive
Pentecostalism and
Mainline ecumenism
The bapticostal misfit
Contemplative mystic
Jesus freak
But less in word
And more in deed

Hear my prayers
And be my strength
To find You everywhere
From the cathedral
to the street
-Bec Cranford

The Four Seasons

heavy-laden and sharp -
"You need to see a doctor."
"I don't know if we can afford it!"
Blankets, pillows, askew,
dusty blinds cough each morning.

a canvas of past and future -
worn with a stethoscope,
carried in a bottle,
emerge in a pharmacy.
Flip-flop, flip-flop squeaks
on a vinyl floor toward

gleaming on clouds' edge -
silver-edged and surrounded
by a quilt of blue
a puff of breath,
and the chill
of the air is apple-sweet.

flung here, sung there -
the snow is welcomed
with a scarf and carrot nose,
It is a chance she
never thought she had.

-Kelsey Shaver