Grappling with the Soul

Dmitri Gaudreau

I step back onto the mat and my soul finds me again. A shot and a sprawl and now I am crushed on the ground, And I must call upon my soul to free me from this dreaded place. A pause and a breath, a quick thought and I carry on. To my feet I return and again engage. This shot succeeds and I claim control. My soul again knows no bounds and I know my soul. Once more I am thrown to the mat and have lost control; But now and forever, I know my soul.

Woman with Cigarette

Maia Kohlmann colored pencil

The Kitchen

Generosity Samas

her eyes are full of diamonds piercing through my steel demeanor from across the table the wet moon drips his glow on my speckled skin kombucha smells of vinegar, my nose is a fox for tracking down the scent. hunger is a friend of mine and oh, how my stomach turns I cannot move I am buried in my chair.

Orange Flowers

Beecher Moritz-MacAdams pastel

I am the Fire

Hazel Haskovec

I am the smoke that corrupts your lungs And the heat that draws you closer

You blame me for your burns, but it is you Who should know not to play with fire

You call me evil, but I am light and When I leave you are left in the dark

You blame me for your suffering, but I only take when I’m fed Why do you feed me so?

I was here before you, but You are the reason I burn so hot You keep stoking the fire Why won’t you go out?

It was peaceful before you, but He Took that from me

Now I will take your peace until mine is returned