NATURE Poem: Allium, by Victoria Francisco

From my blue checkered couch,
I smell florals so
pungent, I think of food.
The pom-pom flowers
smell of soup; in my
thoughts, I add garlic and
Dominican oregano.
I bring the mortar to my
mother, with the herbs
pulverized. I show her I am finished.
I see why artists paint
their childhood.
It is the goodness at the
end of the sickness.

LGBTQ+ Poem: Homosexual Love, by Sherry Caayupan

She strides to walk towards Wilma’s photo by the fridge,
She cooks Wilma’s beef stew by the fire,
She loves Wilma she knows at their love’s edge,
Together they bid a special flame by symphonic lyre;
She could be Wilma’s sister,
She could be her friend,
Yet together, they look far better,
Than a brethren’s love’s twisting end…
Where both shall walk by holding hands…
…And yet, by love’s command…
…Whatever the kind of love is…
…She seems to walk to Wilma at the door to give her bliss on her lips to kiss!