Sunset Stripped by D.R. James

An orange sun descends like a slow-mo yo-yo toward where this Great Lake’s turned purple. I’d wanted it to sing back-up to a love song but as it dripped from its last slip of cloud like a tear from a bloody lid I knew meager romance was doomed. Nature— her two-faced refrain: one moment a... Continue Reading →

Hanged by John Tustin

I hanged myself beneath the tree Where we first kissed That kiss has followed me Although you have not And even now in death It lies warm upon my lips Warm and burning Soothing and bright Upon lips now dead But still so alive with the phantom of you Photo by veeterzy on Pexels.com About... Continue Reading →

Soul Liberation! by Ari Bouse

When gently gazing at my disease to please in the mirror . . . I compassionately see your own need to be needed reflecting back at me. Are they really any different? Such attachments invite seductive medications, like band aids or other life support systems. But when we find the courage to go beyond drinking... Continue Reading →

Amplified Melancholy by Diana Raab

You might ask me to explain this season’s melancholy slipping through my veins and all I can tell you is that on the tenth anniversary of dad’s passing, the doctors removed my right breast and five years later stabbed by a second diagnosis, bone marrow malignancy, no cure just treatment— the holiday lights sharpened. Past... Continue Reading →

Reset by Aurora Bishop

One last shared sacred space a stranger sits beside me. We enjoy nature together but apart disconnecting from it all until her phone rings a business call, I think but it's hard to eavesdrop my headphones are in. Maybe we're hybrids robots recharging our solar-powered souls. Photo by Monica Turlui on Pexels.com About the Poet:... Continue Reading →

Open for Submissions!

Are you an aspiring poet? Ephemeral Elegies is still open for submissions! We publish one new poem each week and want to provide a platform for new and emerging voices. Check out our Submissions page for more information!

Self Portrait by Christina Pan

A severed head, I am. Congesting the fridge. My mouth smothers a jar of jujubes—she didn’t cut it off. My skin marbled, my smudged eyelids purple. Father carried this in his tepidity, but now I’m frozen and forgotten like mother. My nonexistent friends will not miss me. In front of my tongue sits uneasily an... Continue Reading →

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