Ann Arbor Review


Robert Nisbet
Alan Britt
Jennifer Burd
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Running Cub
Elisavietta Ritchie
Odimegwu Onwumere
Laszlo Slomovits
Lyn Lifshin
Ramesh Dohan
Silvia Scheibli
Alex Ferde
Richard Kostelanetz
Richard Gartee
Irsa Ruci
Duane Locke
Janet Buck
Nahshon Cook

Jim Daniels
Fred Wolven
Peycho Kanev
Ali Znaidi
Sunday Eyitayo Michael
Karyn M. Bruce
Arsim Halili
Engjell I. Berisha
Muharrem Kurti

Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2015 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida

AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 48 years all together....


Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven

Submissions via e-mail:




‘gods of our lives’

Tender voices echoes like roaring thunder,
Gentle pats strikes like bamboo canes,
Stern smile whispers ‘nine-months’,
Warm advices calculates expenses,
Silence exaggerates it all to the mind,
And our acts are inhibited by these buttons.

How do we tell you we are far less than we portray?
When to our face you brag to your peers about us,
But behind them you compare us to their
drones that are compared to us too by them.

We almost hated you- yet we couldn’t,
Those milks you dripped from your
bosoms have enclosed our hearts.
We almost talked back- yet we couldn’t,
The daily bread sealed our lips.

How do we let you know we can’t all be Adichie,
Dangote or 2face? Were you?
How do we make you understand that,
We are stars but perhaps not super?

Then, you are God-assigned-gods
Pushing us to limits, we couldn’t imagine
Creating craving cavities in our hearts for more
Bending, forging and reshaping us into us
Nevertheless, when we don’t split the skies, honor the little we are.

‘Between rife and debt’

He will die today. Surely.
Tomorrow, a few tears shed,
Little wailings, some
Hypocritical mourning
And he is laid to rest.
Yesterday, he lived in rife,
Castles and cars on the tides.
Soon his name fled their lips,
Forgetting the goods he shared.
Now he’s down, some depths
Lonely, he slept,
Paying God his little debt.

‘Reverberations of Love’

Its 10:09pm;
Crickets are chirping,
Frogs are croaking,
Dad’s snoring,
Dan’s dreaming,
Moon’s staring,
Wind’s breezy,
Silence is lurking,
Eyes are shutting,
Witches are meeting,
Angels are guarding,
Stars are peeping,
Sun’s sleeping,
Thieves are planning,
Vigilante’s smoking.
And I’m right here,
Just thinking of you.

‘Coconut Shells’

Love & life,
Words that should be used one
For the other, although not
Inexorably in the same context;
‘I love you’; ’I give life to you’.
A flower budded in her womb
Months after their hearts merge,
And days after their lips met.
The seedling sprouted into a man.
[…] and love formed life, like a
Larva metamorphose into a butterfly.

Love & life,
Words that should be used one
For the other, although not
Inexorably in the same context;
‘Show me love’, ‘show me life’.
Roses grew around his ventricles,
And his atria scented hibiscus
When she picked him up and
Clothed him with her little.
[…] and love ignited life, like a
Firefly, setting a forest ablaze.

Love & life,
Words that should be used one
For the other;
Are not contradictions;
‘I will love you’; ‘I will take your life’.
As we foretell with our deeds,
We have sapped away its meanings
Like an empty coconut shell,
And left the two words to sit side
By side like metaphors;
One painting the other unrealistic.


Sunday Eyitayo Michael, Kaduna, Nigeria

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