Nightingale & Sparrow

Author: juliette

  • Lisa Lerma Weber

    Lisa Lerma Weber

    Poetry, Creative Nonfiction and Photography Contributor

    Lisa Lerma Weber often flies away with her curiosity to a place above the clouds. Her words have been published in Barren Magazine, Bone & Ink Press, Feminine Collective, Memoir Mixtapes, Mojave Heart Review, and others. 

    @LisaLermaWeber


    Works in Nightingale & Sparrow

    Space CadetAwakening, Wild 2, Bright eyes, Hope, FlightPhoenix

  • Necromancy

    Necromancy

    Jennifer Wilson

    I find it difficult to say things plainly, so I’ll just say that my mother’s hands were always full of bones.

    She would hold them close and clutch them, bringing them to her chest when they were cold. And children with their flesh and their tears never phased her, their warmth not a thing to her mind. They just gave her good reason to relish the cold touch of bones and forego the future, enchanting the past and every power of death upon them as they sharpened themselves upon us.

    Our marrow was so rich and warm. And our mother would eat it, unthinking, kissing the skeleton in a suck like an infant crying out that Mother Death and Our Lady of the Shadows never loved her so well as this. 

    She made us hollow. She made us naked, ripping to rags even our bedclothes as emblems to bind and beatify the dead.

    O I wish, O Mother, in knots and offerings, that these votives make pretty bows of my motives. O ghosts, give me strength to withhold. Mother, make me not weak to be eaten. Give me death for myself to control. 

    And so her spells cast us as Others, unnecessary for her needs. Her adored drama, the sheer vastness and blankness of her bones bore us through. And, light as birds but flightless, we flew – the hollowness of our hearts coming through.

    The fall to the floor seemed so much farther than our featherweight bones could forestall – and yet we met the earth with ease, barely bruised, free to wing wide through our down.

    Jennifer Wilson

  • If Nothing Else

    If Nothing Else

    Jessalyn Johnson

    but the general faults in the solar system
    or the notes in the margins providing insight
    to temporary notions of faded ideas;
    if nothing else but if the rain reversed
    or if a collection of dust as a force of nature
    were to become profoundly instrumental 
    the way children solve problems 
    and adults solve themselves
    or the half life of something with a shelf life
    gives away nothing but numbers.
    Potential may erupt like a geyser 
    to show off like a prize
    and harness like energy or another powerful force
    for spinning in circles is a creative transit
    that leaves with no destination 
    but arrives someplace new
    in a universe that exists only in theory
    yet allows lightning bugs to glow.
    So if nothing else, there is one last iris
    or else, and only or else, is there nothing.

    Jessalyn Johnson

  • Visar

    Visar

    Poetry Contributor

    Author of Daylight, a microchapbook published by Ghost City Press 2018, Visar writes poems that have appeared on isacoustic press, kalahari review, African Writer etc. Fiction forthcoming on the Gerald Kraak Anthology. Twitter: rabiutemidayo.

    Works in Nightingale & Sparrow

    Drive

  • Soar

    Soar

    Sara Kelly

    Kindness shoves little feet
    forcefully into the Earth
    during take off,
    and soars into the sanctuary
    of an open heart.

    Humility rides
    seeds of dandelions,
    not unlike knights
    charging into battle,
    chanting repeatedly,
    “love thy neighbor.”

    We throw caution
    to the wind,
    But, alas, it falters,
    for fear of the potential fall.

    If we release love
    into the atmosphere,
    will it fly high into the sky,
    and sing a song of hope?
    Will it return to solid ground,
    and reassure us of
    all the beauty
    that surrounds us?

    Sara Kelly

  • Alex in flight

    Alex in flight

    Britton Minor

    Alex in flight

    Britton Minor

  • Ceinwen E. Cariad Haydon

    ceinwenecariadhaydonCeinwen E. Cariad Haydon

    Poetry Contributor

    Ceinwen lives in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK. She writes short stories and poetry. She has been published in web magazines and print anthologies. These include Fiction on the Web, StepawayThree Drops from the Cauldron, Snakeskin, Obsessed with Pipework, The Linnet’s Wing, Blue Nib, Picaroon, AmaryllisAlgebra of Owls, The Lake, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Riggwelter, Poetry Shed, Southbank Poetry, Smeuse, Bandit Fiction, Atrium, Marauder, Prole, The Curlew, Confluence and The Foxglove Journal, Barren Magazine and Porridge Magazine. She was Highly Commended in the Blue Nib Chapbook Competition [Spring 2018] and won the Hedgehog Press Poetry Competition ‘Songs to Learn and Sing’. [August 2018]. In 2017 she graduated with an MA in Creative Writing from Newcastle University and she is now developing practice as a creative writing facilitator with hard to reach groups. She believes everyone’s voice counts.

    Works in Nightingale & Sparrow

    December Daybreak

  • Halycon

    Halycon

    Hilda Coleman (Jupiter)

    I am kindly haunted by
    the colors that dress my mind
    of purple,
    pink, and yellow,
    a swirl of the trix-yogurt
    I used to like as a kid

    at 6am today
    the morning was fluorescent,
    intrinsically connected to
    the city,
    the palettes of color
    aligned to resemble art

    it was simple.
    it was just like when we hiked this
    together, except now

    I was mixed
    into the sky,
    adopted by nature
    All I needed were wings.

    As I hiked that mountain myself
    my hand laid on my chest,
    echoing vibrations,
    blood pumping
    thump, thump,
    My breathe shortened, then
    rose up again,
    like a thermometer
    up and up
    I was so alive.
    my wrist beeped, as it read

    “200 BPM”

    and all I could think about
    was how alive I could feel,
    without you.

    Hilda Coleman (Jupiter)

  • A Dragon in our Midst

    A Dragon in our Midst

    Zoe Philippou

    A Dragon in our Midst

    Zoe Philippou

  • Tarra Palacios-Perez

    Tarra Palacios-Perez

    Photography Contributor

    Tarra Perez resides in Michigan with her children. She enjoys long walks on the beach, sunsets, dancing in the rain, jumping in puddles, and searching for rainbows after the storms. Her hobbies include writing and photography. 

    Works in Nightingale & Sparrow

    Guiding Light

    Flying Free

    Peaceful Easy Feeling

    Sunset Flight