Sentinel Literary Quarterly

Vol.2 No.3, April 2009. ISSN 1753-6499 (Online).

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Abayomi O. Zuma
Akinlabi Peter
Angela Nwosu
Ashley Capes
Benjamin Beresford
Gregory A Lawson
Lola Shoneyin
Matthew Coombe
Nnorom Azuonye
Nnorom Azuonye (2)
Simon Green
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January 2009
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In October 2008, Sentinel Poetry (Online) in publication since December 2002 was merged with Sentinel Literary Quarterly into a single ezine. You can find Sentinel Poetry (Online) archives at the locations below:
March/April 2008
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Simon Green


Without You.


Without You

The birds would sing

'Alone and foresaken'

Each time I left the house


Without You

Orchids would spit poisonous venom

At anybody that came near


Without You

Al Green would be tone deaf

And sing

'Let's not bother'


Without You

The biting wind

Would bite at the legs of small children


Without You

It would forever be

The 20th January 1969


Without You

The Smiths would reform

With Robbie Williams taking the place of Morrissey


Without You

The blues would be pitch black


Without You

Children would go to sleep at night

And dream of a career in the civil service


Without You

Fountains in public parks

Would emit raw sewage


Without You

Every message inside fortune cookies would read

'All is doomed'


Without You

Noodle bars would serve sour and sour


And Without You

There would be routine without hope.


Just like old Lawrence of Arabia.


The kid flew past me

On his bright yellow chopper.


He had the kind of look

That a child might have

Should he come home early from school one day

To find his Mother

Necking and groping on the couch

With some weasel-faced old geezer

Whilst his Father is busy

Scratching around for oil

Dressed up like Old Lawrence of Arabia

In the desert somewhere near Bahrain

When the summer is approaching in England in 1975.




He had been careless

And had lost his wife again.


This time she'd take the kids

With the stereo and T.V

Move to a quiet calmer place

And a million miles away.


He hitched up a ride

And lost his marbles

In the stormy waves of the sea.


The sirens call majestically.


Your Helen she now lies

In the cold embrace of others

Engaged in marathon liasons

With olympian born lovers.


The Wise One.


From under the table

She slipped

Her foot out of her shoe

And like a kitten curled it round

A slender ankle

Upto the Knee.


And with her chin

Almost pressed

Down  into her chest

She studied him with blue eyes

Much wiser than

He would ever learn to be.



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Simon Green has published poetry in small press anthologies in England and a couple of magazines in the United States; Chiron Review and SP Quill.



Sentinel Literary Quarterly

 Published by Sentinel Poetry Movement

Editor: Nnorom Azuonye

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