Fabrice B. Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.
Deep into the heart through a smile sincere as joy
daring to take a few short steps
facing the agony of bewilderment and glee
she shines with sparks of sublime stars.
Phoebus plays with the golden touch of the hair
Aeolus is moved to animate it with life
she giggles softly and no one can see
as on the little screen she contemplates her days.
The park of oaks, blooms, cardinals and canines
all sing to celebrate what they feel through her
an aura glows close and stronger emanates
aiming for the heavens above at early dawn.
From her the child leaps to play hard and soft, alone
yet she needs no other as if belonging to a different time
who can reach her? who can imagine her at this hour?
her dress is of summer hues, still she laughs.
Woman, little girl, teenage darling she is eternally
a dream enchanting to the urban center unaware
her soul flutters its wings as she spreads fairy dust
so not seen, she leaves her bright grin on all.
Deep into a smile unbounded she is free
safe she is the creation of an infinite kind
now for the plunge into the abyss of burning light
where souls are in immeasurable passion.
Like Little Ants
They run with nothing to say
cliché of too many headlines
carrying banners faded by storms
mouths gaping to welcome a blow.
I contemplate the silence of the cosmos
this universe made in a silent symphony
rolling through eternal waves
steady on a course to infinite renewal.
One marches forth, another falls
several make circles of fire
waltzing to un-earthy idols
their eyes bloody with fear.
It is another scene many times rehearsed
a birthing revolution so many times witnessed
like a babe drowning in an abandoned crib
soon to rest under the yoke of exhaustion.
Dressed in the colors of their collapsed words
they fall upon their mindless anger
to return home bewildered by a giant clock
crushed as always by their gross ignorance.
I walk through a desert land
cliché of all that has been
crowded with infested mobs
the walking shells nothing but ghosts.
Yet I refuse to settle for less
than all there is in this realm
a unity to find the power of wings
and fly away to distant worlds.
To find a living one among these apparitions
I will risk every particle
exposing a core to complete annihilation
so per chance I may become complete.
Searching for those lost atoms
I seek the irresistible pull of another
wandering as I am upon uncertain paths
to merge in infinite ecstasy.
Seeking Her Self
Confident as she faces the universe
she feels no shame
standing firm upon the icy peak
delivered from all constraints.
Her vision only internal
she might swallow the creation entire
her chest brave as the Amazon’s
subliming air rock torrents and aromas.
She senses a strange substance within her palms
thin as ether slick as amber
it comes to life from her pores a gift
from an invisible union with the unknown.
Never again will she look upon the vale
hoping only to become as the spheres
of infinite cosmos place of all knowledge
dressed only of frozen flesh and bones.
Rays stab through the satin shroud
burning for a freedom reserved for Goddesses
a new star emerges from the warm remains
memories in a gentle mound by the glacier.
I cannot quite recall the year
yet I do remember the sounds of fumes.
An electric tram slid by
surrounded by the neon of trendy windows.
Cobblestones reminded walkers of times immemorial
carrying their precious cargo in silk purses.
Could they slow for a moment and live again?
I wondered as I sat in her tremendous shade.
Stranger in the land of plenty
she looked to the heavens with amazing grace.
Her ritual smile hovering upon those juvenile lips
she inhaled once more and took another gliding step.
Armed with the joyful bow she began
singing hallelujahs upon her gentle wings.
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From the Editor:
We hope that readers receive In Parentheses as a medium through which the evolution of human thought can be appreciated, nurtured and precipitated. It will present a dynamo of artistic expression, journalism, informal analysis of our daily world, entertainment of ideas considered lofty and criticism of today’s popular culture. The featured content does not follow any specific ideology except for that of intellectual expansion of the masses.
Founded in late 2011, In Parentheses prides itself upon analysis of the current condition of intelligence in the minds of these young people, and building a hypothesis for one looming question: what comes after Post-Modernism?
The idea for this magazine stems from a simple conversation regarding the aforementioned question, which drew out the need to identify our generation’s place in literary history.
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