new poetry

“Super Bowl, 2025” by James Croal Jackson

NEW POETRY

we wore our best hunter-green waited patiently

as men took a different kind of field we craved

sustenance a resurrection a flight a waiting

by window in the purple light under wrong

tin roof what we tossed into sky we threw

away our wing-missiles pigskins of self

talons landing burrowing deep out of view

what craft drunk disturbance in the flapping

february frigidity that beat against our jackets

yours the bird slick knit on surface mine

a thready childhood blanket to keep no one

and nothing not the least of heat my heart 

drinks beside you as it waits for the game

to be good but it never does and always was.

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023). Recent poems are in ITERANT, Stirring, and The Indianapolis Review. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. (jamescroaljackson.com)

“Indescribable” by Daniel Suter

NEW POETRY

If ink flowed through my veins
and I had quills for fingers
if I had all the words
that were ever said or written
still,
I could not describe you

If colors burst from my heart
the universe my canvas
if I had seen the whole world
imagined everything there is
still,
I could not paint you

If I sang like an angel
and played every instrument
if I heard heaven’s melody
and felt the rhythm of the earth
still,
I could not sing of you.

Daniel Suter lives and writes in Beirut, Lebanon. He teaches English through a local NGO and has been involved in starting and growing several poetry initiatives aimed at bridging sectarian divides and creating community that inspires change. He loves collecting personal narratives at storiesthatmatter.online, brainwashing his kids to enjoy great literature and occasionally overdosing on Espresso. You can connect with him at @suterstories.

A Review of Christina Strigas’s “Love & Gaia”

A BOOK REVIEW BY CHRISSI SEPE

Christina Strigas is a Montreal poet who has published several poetry books, including Love & Vodka and Love & Metaxa.  Her words are raw and honest, written in a stream-of-consciousness style, and they reveal the inner life of a woman in love, a brave mother, and a human being who seeks to see beauty in the simple, everyday things. Her newest poetry book, Love & Gaia, completes this trilogy, but rather than speaking the thoughts of a woman, this book is told through the point of view of our planet Earth.

All the poems in Love & Gaia were originally written by hand in Christina’s journal.  Perhaps this method helped her get closer to our physical world than if she had used technology? 

In Love & Gaia, our Earth has a voice.  In one poem, the tree expresses its sorrow: “My cousin’s arms connected to mine. We were together for over four hundred years. I heard some humans and their machines coming closer, but we could not run.”

In another poem, the shells collected at the beach tell their feelings: “Take me out of the plastic bag that has killed my soul. Place me in a jar. People love to stare at me. Sometimes pick me up.”

Love & Gaia reminds us of our connection to the earth and prompts us to not take it for granted.  Christina also dedicates a chapter to “Tea Leaves,” reciting how green tea is a natural elixir: “You make my mind stop tossing and turning. Somehow, I am calm when you are on my lips.”

As a special bonus, each chapter features black and white illustrations that perfectly complement the poems printed beside them. My favorite is a drawing of a tea bag personified. The tea bag’s clothes are its tag and string, and its hat is an upside down teacup. 

Christina Strigas’ unique ode to nature is creative and refreshing.  I have never read a poetry book like Love & Gaia, and I will never take nature for granted again.

(Photo of Christina Strigas)

Christina’s book can be purchased at Amazon, here, and at Barnes & Noble, here.

Chrissi Sepe’s most recent appearance at Fast Pop was here.

“Bad Coffee” by Ben Macnair

(new poetry)

It has no warning, no health and safety, no government advisory notice.
It has no instructions, no recipe, no regular appointment time.
It has no certain way of reacting, no known behaviour when in captivity,
but we know when we see it, when we smell it, when we taste it.
you see it on the television, cop shows with not enough light, and too many donuts,
or when friends meet up, and have take after take in café scenes,
just setting the scene, just chewing the fat,
but Bad Coffee, like a bad boss, a bad memory,
will always taint memories, like that.

Ben Macnair is an award winning poet and playwright from Staffordshire in the United Kingdom. Follow him on Twitter @benmacnair

Ben also has a piece of music, “FAT CHAFFINCH,” at our Open Mic blog.