I shall die of a nascent murder
it did not succumb into my palms
Rather, a devotional sacrifice I give tonight
to a horrid life, I silently whisper.

These marks of engraved cruelty
adorn my skin into a tumult extortion
as I surrender my jeweled reality
into the hot anguished embrace.

The sufferings shall subsume soon
and you shall be free, from my cleavage
Renounce my concoctions,
They do not belong to you, anymore Darling.

Words betray me too often, unlike you
You have shown me, my end…who else could
I sat at your feet, dwindling with pain
as you made it numb by squatting me, again.

Now it hurts, no more
relishing the mist of acedia
That often sermons the itchy surface
beneath the burnt skin of smoke and ash.

Tempered footprints and willowy reflections
tarnished tapestry of thoughts
This is now my home, O!Lover
where nothing can be burned, anymore.

This tale is written by the charcoal of vengeance
it cannot be erased by the elements of abscess
I write this farrago, of not too long ago
of a marasmus woman, who perished, too soon.

Within these walls, I sit in this pyre
while you are gone, I dance on a sad tune
I see you in the smoke arising out of me
I see your hungry eyes, in my fire, aglow.

Priyanka Dey, pursuing her Masters in History from Delhi University, is a prolific poet.  Her poetry is mostly available through online forums, while her blog is a virtual stream of poems. Though her artistic soul embraces other art forms, words has always been her first love. The language she uses is that which relates to the lay man, but which is nurtured by the ethos of the Indian as well as global culture.

Presently, she is working on her first full length novel.

The untouched tea, a witness of my act
was flushed away, into the sink
as I washed the last traces of the vestiges
into the flow of water, it was all lost and gone.

I suddenly felt the surge of victory within
and I laughed out my pride
as I recalled the murder I’d committed,
Of the poor little Mice!

Priyanka Dey, pursuing her Masters in History from Delhi University, is a prolific poet.  Her poetry is mostly available through online forums, while her blog is a virtual stream of poems. Though her artistic soul embraces other art forms, words has always been her first love. The language she uses is that which relates to the lay man, but which is nurtured by the ethos of the Indian as well as global culture.

Presently, she is working on her first full length novel.

But it resides beneath the skin
A tempest,that burns inside
The curses pinch like glaring eyes
That stared at me, as I hid my self, or rather my ‘malice’.

Daddy left you, i wish he didn’t
I know he hit you,
And you cried
But did you see that I prayed for you
Of how my little soul slowly died?

Everytime you twisted my arm and wringed me to the ground
I scathed and pleaded
While you hit me, made me blue eyed.
People at high school called me names
Sometimes mad, gothic n maniac
And others thought I was a confused whore
They mocked at me, pinched me around
As I kept applying some more makeup
To hide the bruises, that showed.

The Curses, hurt though the cuts have gone
Tears have dried but my heart is numb
You cursed me Mommy, now look at me
A failed marriage, a heart broken me
As I await to kill another life
Abort the life that is forming inside
I failed as a daughter, you told me I would fail
But I won’t let one more Amanda be born
And die a death every single day she’d live
Look what you cursed me into, Ma
I live a living death,
as I await to abort her, my baby..
She won’t be cursed. No more.

Priyanka Dey, pursuing her Masters in History from Delhi University, is a prolific poet.  Her poetry is mostly available through online forums, while her blog is a virtual stream of poems. Though her artistic soul embraces other art forms, words has always been her first love. The language she uses is that which relates to the lay man, but which is nurtured by the ethos of the Indian as well as global culture.

Presently, she is working on her first full length novel.

From the Editor: John C Sweet is the Editor of The Plebian Rag and what would this magazine be without the inclusion of the mad mind that keeps this baby alive, John hopes you enjoy the sounds from the echo of his madness and hopes that you have enjoyed this much anticipated magazine. Please continue to support Independent Presses like Epic Rites Press, Bottle of Smoke, Rattle, Zygote in my Coffee, The Stray Branch, Heroin Love Songs and all that Jack Henry does, there are way too many to list but ya get the idea. Be sure to spread the word and if you are interested in becoming a legend in your own mind submit your poetry to us via the site: http://theplebianrag.com/ We will either love ya or hate ya, that’s really your choice. We would like to extend our sincere thanks to all the poets included in this magazine, ya’ll are creating this scene keep it comin’ and lets just hope that it wont take a timely demise for ya’ll to get the recognition you deserve, we hope this fills some of that void that sucks the life outta real art; cough-mainstream press. That is all.

Adios Amigos,

John Sweet

Kat Brown is a senior at the Evergreen State College where she is pursuing a Liberal Arts degree. She has been a dedicated writer for 6 years and recently published her first book of poetry and prose entitled “Dear Seymour”. She works as a freelance writer outside of her studies and has participated in writing workshops at Sarah Lawrence and in her hometown of Provo, UT. We are pleased to present Kat Brown this week.

Aroused by solitude
and weeping in pleasure
I was born
alive amongst the reflections.My human form stood
moving in freedom.At the will of god,
At the will of the current,
At the will of the wind.

Still I sat as the wind and the current fought for my attention,
both wishing to decide what the path should be
both longing to determine forwards from backwards.

Voices pulled my attention from the beauty
of the animal
that lives within the walls
of my flesh–
within the world
I know.

Written on my flesh
were the words of hungry desires.
I watched the ink
melt into the movement
as the grains of sand cracked my flesh
and took the cells of history
back into the sea
of crimson fragments.

My flesh–
once so delicate–
now wore the marks
of so much letting go.
I pulled my hands to my bosom
as my eyes wept the sacred story
of saying goodbye.

The burnt sand lay heavy
with the in between.
And as I returned my hands
to the grainy weight
of the place between
then and now,
home and here,
dark and light–
I saw the weight of being lost
in the ritual of always beginning again.

Kat Brown is a senior at the Evergreen State College where she is pursuing a Liberal Arts degree. She has been a dedicated writer for 6 years and recently published her first book of poetry and prose entitled “Dear Seymour”. She works as a freelance writer outside of her studies and has participated in writing workshops at Sarah Lawrence and in her hometown of Provo, UT.

shadowed by the army of clouds click

the door bell of the monsoon.

While the door is already open,

the nonstop pouring sounds arises

the atmosphere of humidity in short stories;

stories that are made by grandpas in rainy days

of ghosts and fairies; those oblige the daily adult minds

back to their days of glory

where freedom wasn’t the requirement

under mother’s cosy lap and care.

The school books, “Wings of Poesy”,

and stories of “Jerome K Jerome” seem to take

me inside “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” and then

the chill of the air, and water drops breezing

as light snow flakes take

me on “Black Beauty’s” back away from

the legal society, away from rules and customs

from taboos and tabloids till the end of the earth

to be one with the immensity of the universe.

These overcast days are really unusual that forces

me to brood as a bird on a broken egg.

Sonnet Mondal was born in the steel City Durgapur in West Bengal in India. As an Indian English poet Sonnet has come up as an emerging voice in the International arena of poetry and literature during the past two years with several International awards and National recognitions. He has authored 6 books of poetry(with 2 currently with publishers) and a translation work in poetry. His first book “A Poetic Peep into the Post Modern World” published by The Underground Literature Kolkata Publications in 2007. http://sonnetmondal.synthasite.com/biography.php

Sonnet Mondal was born in the steel City Durgapur in West Bengal in India. As an Indian English poet Sonnet has come up as an emerging voice in the International arena of poetry and literature during the past two years with several International awards and National recognitions. He has authored 6 books of poetry(with 2 currently with publishers) and a translation work in poetry. His first book “A Poetic Peep into the Post Modern World” published by The Underground Literature Kolkata Publications in 2007. http://sonnetmondal.synthasite.com/biography.php

to the bold footsteps taking over

the silence of the jail.

Fear torment,

Fear the men in bottle green dresses;

Fearing them must be a custom here

or the peeling of skins like that of

an orange will expose your blood

to predators with no balm

to sit even and relax.

Hellish life is our sentence;

These friendly bars warn us

Of every word that we verbalize

And every step that we hear here.

Sonnet Mondal was born in the steel City Durgapur in West Bengal in India. As an Indian English poet Sonnet has come up as an emerging voice in the International arena of poetry and literature during the past two years with several International awards and National recognitions. He has authored 6 books of poetry(with 2 currently with publishers) and a translation work in poetry. His first book “A Poetic Peep into the Post Modern World” published by The Underground Literature Kolkata Publications in 2007. http://sonnetmondal.synthasite.com/biography.php

Jim Davis is the editor of the North Chicago Review, and will be appearing as the feature artist for an upcoming issue of Palooka Magazine. Poems from his forthcoming collection have been selected to appear in Poetry Quarterly, Blue Mesa Review, The Ante Review, The Café Review, Chiron Review, and Contemporary American Voices, among others.