April 3-9, 2017: Poetry from Sofia Kioroglou and Caitlyn Chandler

​Sofia Kioroglou and Caitlyn Chandler

Send us your poetry for POET OF THE WEEK consideration.
Click here for submission guidelines.


​Sofia Kioroglou
sophiek.74teacher@gmail.com

Bio (auto)

Sofia Kioroglou is a twice award-winning poet, journalist, writer and prolific blogger residing in Athens, Greece, with her husband Peter. Her work can be found online and in print in Lunaris Review, In Between Hangovers, Galleon Literary Journal, Pengician, Galway Review, Verse-Virtual, Dumas de Demain, Books’ Journal, Poetic Diversity, Every Writer, Winamop, Aenaon, Outlaw Poetry to name but a few. She has work forthcoming in Basil o’ Flaherty. She was one of the winners in the International Competition of Epok this January and her work won a distinction in the Poetry Contest of Unesco Club for the return of the Elgin Marbles to Greece. To learn more about her work, visit: sofiakioroglou.wordpress.com

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by ​Sofia Kioroglou and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


A zipper that jammed halfway

Walking through the Old City of Jerusalem
over cobblestones slick with rain,
I drink in the sensory rush

In its tumults, I heave and roll like a ship
the echoes of the wind reverberating more
like a Swiss milkmaid than a strangled cat

The drumming of winter rain
that deep chord of familiarity
stirring a welter of emotions indefinable

Caught between the past and the present,
like a zipper jammed halfway, with metal teeth
ground to a halt, peace is digging its heels in

To get it, sometimes you have to let it go
by grabbing the stalled tongue and yanking it hard
the friction, a tertium quid camp.

 

 



Caitlyn Chandler
cecartgirl@gmail.com

Bio (auto)

My name is Caitlyn Chandler and I live in the small but rapidly growing town of Waxhaw in Charlotte, NC. It’s a nice town; just far enough away from the city to gain a sense of freedom but not lost, miles into the country, to feel like you live in the middle of nowhere. I am a design student at the community college, an artist who mainly specializes in graphite portraits, and I have been pursuing poetry for about three years now.

The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Caitlyn Chandler and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Rush Hour

Sitting
in a sunlit corner
of an old
uptown
café
Clicking
keyboards
and cracking vinyl
bounce off
the wood
and steal beam
walls
Ties choke throats
high heels
pinch toes
women in grey skirt suits
men in blue polos
Plastic
coffee cups
with lipstick
stained rims
tired eyes
and empty pages
A girl taps a pen
against her pale,
freckled skin
A boy stares
at the reflections
within
the red trimmed
window pane


Nothing Has Changed

Lazy eyes drift across
twelve-year-old surroundings.
The old Willow,
looms over the roof.

A rusty bird feeder
clings to a branch,
moss-covered pavers
stretch out
from the front walk.

Powerlines,
flickering street lamps.
an empty field
a skeleton tree line
an old road
running
from town.