September 12, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Denys Argyriou photo



Joel Schueler







I’ve searched before and I search still further

For a differing voice, for a story so sweet I could be seduced.

From writers in The Valleys to the writers of England, indeed

to writers of America,

Writers in all places.

Yet none so offer as absorbing a gaze into this world as he,

Nor do they employ such uniquely distinguishable use of the English language.

He connects with me like no other like the perfect teacher would his son.

His song penetrates my soul deep into the night underneath the earthly surfaced carnalism.

The suspense, the mystery, the horror

All collide to form the perfect nightmarish stories that wander from his withering pen.

Wherever my eyes may glance, wherever I may go,

I cannot help but wander, wander home to Poe.





(The hurt from the) Absence of My Unrequited Love



In a year’s time from now we’ll be sailing on the clouds

Clouds of solid platinum, wearing love on your sleeve.

Though I look through eyes of guilt your rose shall never wilt

As you caress your gentle person on leaves devoid of twine.

Wish this chapter will be born for my heart is dearly scorned

From then I shall Love you till the desuetude of time,

And faraway you lie on a bed of halcyon wine

Dreaming of your suitors there is no room for me.

A deep and open wound my heart can’t mend with glue

Only with your touch can I be healed in eternal enlightenment






Joel Schueler

Joel lives in Wiltshire, England. He has a BA (Hons) degree in English Literature & Creative Writing from the University of Wales, Aberystwyth. His works have been accepted in a number of publications including Atlantean Publishing, The Dawntreader, Poetry Pacific & The Bangalore Review. He is working on his first novel.

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