a psalm for Hurricane Helene and Hurricane Milton survivors 

I was swimming in a sea of doubt
Drowning in a pool of pride
Caught in a wave of pain
Going with the tide
 
I was standing in the storm of life
Blowing in a hurricane
Saved in a wind of change
You are the shelter from the rain
 
I sing the song of ages
That a band of angels sing
I sing a song of praises
To Jesus Christ the king
 
I'm crossing the fields of slavery
Entering the promised land
Ringing the bells of liberty
The faith to take your hand
 
I sing the song of ages
That a band of angels sing
I sing a song of praises
To Jesus Christ the king
...to Jesus Christ the king!
 
 
The Book of Life has many pages
oh Lord make my life a song of praises!
 




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Billy Lamont is a multimedia performance poet who has performed on national television a number of times, including MTV and Joe Franklin Show, toured and performed with rock festivals such as Lollapalooza several times, and appeared on major radio stations across the U.S.including Z-100 live from Lollapalooza in NY.  He has three books of poetry and nine album CD/digital download releases. His latest book Words Ripped From A Soul Still Bleeding: Poems For The Future Edition is available at Barnes & Noble and Amazon as a paperback, or as an eBook, and all his albums can be streamed on Spotify and Apple Music. He was awarded a Guinness World Record for his poetry contribution to a benefit song that was written as a seed of peace for Muslims, Christians and Jews in The Holy Land.

One more hug goodbye 
with maybe one tear 
in my eye
Sternum to sternum 
You whisper peace 
Don't hurt them 
Four arms bridging a connection
Across time and space
Calming heartbeats
To finish this race
This one last time
I'll pull you closer than
You ever been bc efore
For in this hug you'll be 
In my heart forever more
So this time let me come up 
And hold you from my soul 
To my finger tips 
Pull you close
Bear hug hip to hip
Can I have one more hug
Before the smile on my lips
Changes to now quietly 
Say goodbye 

Ravenous wrathful storms stealing hope,
Replacing hope with devastation,
It wasn’t supposed to be weather filled war with degradation,
Hitting towns before you could leave town,
But the Victor comes before victory could be lost,
Pulling out facts like there was more than history,
Historical times tell us that it may appear as the end times,
But whenever something changes it ends,
Not taking away life but bringing new life,
Leave the internal turmoil in the tornado,
Let your thoughts whirl away like the daily struggles
Forming words in your head,
Taking away the faith but be as fierceless as the swirls
That try to break your spirit because
Faith is more powerful than the hundreds of miles of wind
Trying to tear you down, you can build back greatness,
Great homes recreating memories,
But you can barely build a new spirit when it’s gone,
Do not give it to the despair of the storm,
For you can defeat devastation with defeaning thoughts of
Faith, that always prevails for light forms through dark,
And plunders out of sight.







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Amanda Ann enjoys writing, especially outdoors. She frequents coffee shops and bookstores. Her passion is art, books, and helping people. Her poetry Instagram is chatterboxinthemaking.

The night was still, not a sound,
The air was thick, darkness abound.
Silent trees majestically standing,
Silver leaves of green never landing.
 
Houses shining through the dark,
Windows shut, showing a mark
Of light coming through the night
And people lingering there in fright.
 
Together as one, friends and foe,
Who could predict, who could know
The merging of the people
Standing under God’s steeple.
 
God looked down upon earth that day,
Showing His presence, showing His way,
No one could see Him, no one knew,
None had an inkling except a few.
 
People left then, they had to go
To places some did not know,
Change comes and things happen,
Many a spirit would be dampened.
 
Life is meant to be lived forever,
But though we try to endeavour
To live a life good and true
Fate intervenes before our due.
 
But He understands, He is wise
About all things that we surmise,
We do not know what will come to be,
But His true love, we will see.
 
(Written during Hurricane Bill, Nova Scotia,
Canada, August 23, 2009)
 
 
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Cathy’s writings are found in numerous print and online publications. She writes all genres but invariably veers toward the dark—so much so her late mother once asked, “Can’t you write anything happy?” (She can!) She’s published two novels: Wolves Don’t Knock and Mister Wolfe, along with several books of poetry and short story compilations. Cathy lives in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

I lost one that was very important to me 
 And it was my grandmother
 She was the best grandmother that I have ever had lost the time that we spent together.
We laughed and we cried together
She even helped me with the wedding
I would visit her hug her and tell her what a great-grandmother she is
 The hurricane made my life come to a halt 
I lost her   laughter and loved
 She wanted me to come down to see her
But o had school and I had to work
I knew this would be the last time I would see her
I would have put everything on hold
 I should have realized that her love was important
I can get a job anywhere
Or attend a university that is close to her
But now it is too late
 Because she is gone and I will never hug her
And tell her that I love her
 My life has been turned upside down
Now my grandmother is gone 



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When was in Central High School Latoya Kidd started writing fiction stories. Latoya Kidd never showed up to be a people till Latoya Kidd graduated from high school in the year 2000. At the beginning of the year 2000, Latoya Kidd started Prince George’s Community College. Latoya Kidd's first fiction story was published and was called Waiting for My African Prince to Return. In the year of 2013, Latoya Kidd wrote two fiction stories, one called Backdoor Woman and the second one called Royalty. Latoya Kidd also wrote for the Owl newspaper at Prince George’s Community College. Latoya Kidd has gotten three articles published my first one was called Are you ready to have a baby then the second one was that a degree means more and the third one was called Theft is not good behavior. When Latoya Kidd decided to try something new, Latoya Kidd found a magazine called Off the Coast magazine and they published a poem called The Pork Back Because of Man.

Every year along the coast
The clouds rolls through again
A land of revelry and holiday
On days so clear and blue
As Summer turns to Autumn
Now chooses to eschew
Any sign of activity
Any sign of delight
To live along the water’s edge
Is to live upon the brink
Knowing at any moment
All you’ve worked for may sink
 
 
 
 
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Adam Arthur grew up in Citrus County, Florida and Tallahassee, Florida and studied Emergency Management at Florida State University. During his studies he participated as a volunteer analyst in the Center for Disaster Risk Policy’s Disaster Intelligence program, and interned with FEMA through the Virtual Student Federal Service (then known as Virtual Student Foreign Service) program.  His previous poetry has been published in yawp PGH and in two Local Gems Press anthologies. 

What do I hear in the sound of the sea?
Which voice does it use to call out to me?
The sad voice of sorrow where things are forlorn?
Or the glad voice of spirit where life is reborn?
 
Thousands have gone where the pearls lie so deep.
Caverns of graves where dead men don’t weep.
The salt of the sea blinds women’s eyes;
while its hurricane winds drown out their cries.
 
The sea roars with rage on a thousand dark shores;
wailing with tempests and threats of new wars.
Billows of fear that wash away hope;
Breaking the strong who can no longer cope.
 
But the voice that I hear speaks with a peace.
With stillness and calm that makes the waves cease.
The tempest becomes a brief cleansing rain;
that washes away the depth of man’s pain.
 
Then in a flash the sea is no more.
All is dry land as it was once before.
The last trumpet sounds and swallows the night,
and raises us up and clothes us in light.

​
 
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Michael Haldas is an author, educator, and speaker. His published works include books (non-fiction and fiction), short stories, articles, and poems. His poetry has been featured in multiple Local Gems Press publications, Fellowship and Fairydust website, and in the upcoming Fall 2024 issue of the Rule of Faith: Journal of Orthodox Though and Culture. He has a long running podcast show and teaches online adult religious education classes. Visit www.michaelhaldas.com (sacramentaliving.net) to learn more about his work.

The Mourning Doves are singing
In the Pines.
Even the Blue Jays listen in silence
to the song drift and haunt
from the nearby tree,
performers still hidden
by morning mist's lateness
in drawing back the curtain 
on their stage.
The song 
isn't for the accolades,
it's just their nature.
Cooing and calling,
mournful notes 
summoning memories 
and ghosts of childhood,
some happy, 
some just shades.
My soul recognizes their tune,
my feet move 
in simple steps and rhythm
and, oh so quietly 
under my breath,
I sing along.
In the pines…


​

_________________________________________________________________Chris Dean writes from the heart of Indiana. They are the author of two books of poetry, Tales From a Broken Girl and We're All Stories in the End, published by Storeylines Press.