Philly Poetry Chapbook Review is pleased to present four original poems by poet Natalie Marino as our fourth biweekly featured poet of the Winter 2025 issue.
Poems
A Triptych for Ariel
1.
Jesus delivers pagans
from a river
of fire
long before the world
goes to war
over water.
Jerusalem’s city of stone
is made still by seven sacred
archangels.
2.
Slave to magic,
caught
high in a tree,
then saved from spells—
shining like a bell
in sunlight.
Suddenly he is also she,
a genderless spirit, God’s lion/
lioness.
3.
The myth of Sylvia Plath:
clairvoyant,
red star/ hot comet,
rider of a wild horse.
She leaves
for the glitter of seas
in early morning,
giving her children
an empty room.
Impalpable Grayness
Like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker.
-Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
Reading Israel will invade Rafah1 with or without a deal
I need to believe that everything can be alright,
that the vastness of green
outweighs human capacity for viciousness.
I fantasize I am Dean Martin flicking cigarettes
to startle the audience, telling the truth
about fascism— that apartheid is only recognized
looking backwards
and genocide is a field where mothers are left alone with fallen apples.
This morning dawn comes through the window gray
while I wake my daughter by tucking her hair behind her ear.
At nine she still wants to sing songs with me.
She waits for a train traveling towards a future that still exists;
I am an echo saying she is my sunshine.
Dark Horizon
We were still waiting for a hero
when he walked into the room.
We hoped he could still waltz Matilda.
An old-school politician in a new-school era2,
all he had left was a halting performance.
After everything was over
we walked home.
An aging sun set red behind a panicking party;
the air’s thick muck
made the evening sad and beautiful.
Whistling a tune in blue,
we looked out towards the dark horizon
and watched white boats drift
on distant water.
Today the Clouds are Big as Countries
If I could go back
I’d be a bright incision,
just like Jack Kerouac—
drinking a new bottle
of America every night.
I want to imagine grief
like a light
but I am
a suffering mother.
I know mourning like I know
orgasm;
when I look in the mirror
I see myself blue as a wave.
I am not scared to die
though I always hold
a little box of sadness.
Love is knowing
even my children
are small as sand.
- “Netanyahu says Israel will invade Rafah as Gaza ceasefire talks continue” is the title of an Aljazeera article published on 4/30/2024.
↩︎ - the italicized words are from NYT headlines on June 28,2024 regarding the first debate between Biden and Trump before the 2024 presidential election ↩︎
Author Bio
Natalie Marino is a poet and practicing physician. Her work appears in Heavy Feather Review, Pleiades, Rust & Moth, Salt Hill, wildness and elsewhere. She is the author of the chapbook Under Memories of Stars (Finishing Line Press, 2023). She lives in California. You can find her online at nataliemarino.com or on Instagram @natalie_marino.
Contents
Book Excerpt: Further Thought by Rae Armantrout
Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for January 2025, “Further Thought” from Go Figure by Rae Armantrout, along with a few words from the poet.
Read five poems by poet A.L. Nielsen, our first biweekly poet of the Winter 2025 issue, along with a few words about the poem “When We Walked”.
Chapbook Poem: The Poem as an Act of Betrayal by Benjamin S. Grossberg
Read the featured Chapbook Poem of the Month for January 2025, “The Poem as an Act of Betrayal” from As Are Right Fit by Benjamin S. Grossberg, along with a few words from the poet.
Jan. ‘25: Year One: What worked, what didn’t, and what to expect
Editor Aiden Hunt looks back at our first year and discusses changes to Philly Poetry Chapbook Review in 2025.
Three Poems by Shelli Rottschafer
Read three poems by poet Shelli Rottschafer, our second biweekly poet of the Winter 2025 issue, along with a few words about the poem “Because We Remember.”
Dancing With the Dead: On Ragnarök at the Father-Daughter Dance by Todd Dillard
“Todd Dillard successfully transgresses the unspoken cultural embargo on work that grapples with life during the COVID-19 pandemic in his new chapbook, Ragnarök at the Father-Daughter Dance.”
Read three poems by poet Wendell Hawken, our third biweekly poet of the Winter 2025 issue, along with a few words about the poem “First Hurt”.
Book Excerpt: Slow Chalk by Elaine Equi
Read the featured Excerpt Poem of the Month for February 2025, “Slow Chalk” from Out of the Blank by Elaine Equi, along with a few words from the poet.
Chapbook Poem: Caro M. by Angela Siew
Read the featured Chapbook Poem of the Month for February 2025, “Caro M.” from Coming Home by Angela Siew, along with a few words from the poet.
Read four poems by poet Natalie Marino, our fourth biweekly poet of the Winter 2025 issue.
A Conversation with Kate Colby
Poet Kate Colby discusses her latest chapbook, ThingKing, her creative writing practices, and her penchant for poetry chapbooks with PCR Editor Aiden Hunt in this interview piece.