Cyphers Magazine

Category: Poem

A Springtime Day

A Springtime Day

By Vladimir Gandelsman A springtime day – May holidays, I guess –long fallen into my well of winter memories,like many others – into marine binoculars;a typical Leningrad day. Some Navy captaindrops by, a little buzzed, in full dress uniform –one of Mom’s coworkers, if I had to guess,and gives her a big book, and signs […]

Forest Park

Forest Park

By Howard Wright The starry track of the sun runs disorganisedacross the lake. Snow melt gurgles underwardsto a low stone bridge and a child’s gravel beach … All gone quiet. Nothing much is alive here,tree-trimmings and wood-cull, leaf-blood.Paths close their eyes as the forest thickens. A mist of dead needles; frizz and corrosion;a killer cabin, […]

Lapis Lazuli

By Matt Kirkham You call me outside to hear the bats and I find I can no longer hear the bats. They flicker from the outstretched sycamores through a world of rarefied speech normalised, their accents no longer open to me. The clouds above the light-spilling city, above its flat streets, above the mountains beyond […]

James and Jack Travers

By Rachael Hegarty James Travers’s Deposition and Statement at the Coroner’s Court 02.10.03 I am James Travers, brother of the deceased, Thomas (Jack) Travers. Jack worked for himself, supplying wood shavings for chicken farms. On the 17th of May 1974 I heard the news of the bombings in Dublin. I drove home to Monaghan. On […]

Cholera

By Joseph Woods No sooner had the President been sworn in when cholera stalked the high-density neighbourhoods of the capital and, with medieval aplomb scythed a score and more. An early act of grace by the President was to pay passage for the former First Lady and adversary, to attend her mother’s funeral. Five-thousand air-miles […]

Yes, In The Beginning

By Sighle Meehan Long before the goats there was a shadow,a breath, yes in the beginning a breathsifted light from dark, washed the dustwith rain, drew a sun in a big round sky.Made clay. Before the ballerina hooves, in the wildhoodof the goats, there were rivers,rock and forest, where birds – did I not say […]

William Soutar’s Room

By Tom French Because they love him and want him to liveand know in their hearts he will leave this roomby neither window nor door, they have ordainedthat the lintel that has been always there be raised, the sill lowered and the oak frame,fashioned to last a lifetime, be replacedwith one that runs so close […]

Head Wounds

By Michael Farry Each thin line of fresh blood on my foreheadis an insignia of ageI claim, my genetic baldness, ambushed and bledstanched by paper scrap or band aidno shame. When the mischievous imp scrawls graffitileaves his conspicuous messageI blame a careless car boot lid, something sneakysuspended in the shed, a straywindow frame or missed […]

He Made It All Too Obvious

By Terese Coe He made it all too phony about affection,made it all too creepy about using women,made it all too Don Juan about his alleged amours,all too evident he was twisted and alltoo dull when anyone interrupted him byso little as a word,he made it all too mercenary,and sick, finally, lying over and overand […]

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