Wednesday, June 20, 2018

Autumn 2017 Digest is Here

Night Garden Journal's Autumn 2017 Issue is now available, featuring the exquisite poetry of:  
Jeff Bagato, Juliet Cook, Jan Darrow, Ken Allan Dronsfield, G. Louis Heath, Sandy Hiss, Paul Ilechko, Linda Imbler, Sarah Ito, M.J. Iuppa, Michael Keshigian, Steve Klepetar, Alexi Milano, Elaine Reardon, M. Stone, Marianne Szlyk, Ann Christine Tabaka, Stephen Jarrell Williams, and Martin Willitts Jr.

  The digest will retail for only $5.99.  

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Galileo's Fingers by Sandy Hiss

Curious onlookers and tourists with digital
cameras slowly inch their way towards 
the preserved shrunken treasure.  Above, 
Florence's burnt sienna sky yawns at the line 

of human ants trailing around stone fountains
overflowing with coins and ungranted wishes; 
a common scene occurring everyday with the 
familiar lineup of crying babies, bald men 

with fat bellies, and stick-thin women 
snapping open their compacts for one last 
fling with their reflections.  Did Galileo 
ever imagine that pieces of him would scatter 

like the stars he studied.  Only to have a few 
fingers; a thumb and middle finger yanked away, 
displayed for over 300 years. The lone middle 
finger prominent beneath a sky of glass. Perhaps 

pointing once again towards the heavens 
or replying to skeptics who never believed
in things unseen by the naked eye.

Sandy Hiss writes poetry and fiction. Her first novel, a gothic fantasy, The Rosegiver, was republished in October 2017. Her paranormal novelette, The Haunting of Meredith, was published in August 2017. Sandy’s always been intrigued by haunted houses, ancient cemeteries, forests, gardens, and abandoned buildings. She can be reached at her personal blog:, Twitter: @Sandy_Hiss, or on Goodreads.

Monday, June 18, 2018

William Blake's Dream by Byron Beynon

The days danced with angels.
In Broad street he watched
his brother's "spirit ascend heavenward".
Communication and conversation
on breathing streets
inside the symbolic child.
The slaughterhouse
with female butchers,
Golden square, the burial-
ground, and "infinite London's
awful spires".
His loving wife drawn
on the back of Hayley's leaf.
The darkness and burning
eyes of twin designs
on the old and young.
Pen and paintbrush,
copper-plated words and images,
the beat inside
a city's acid heart.

Byron Beynon's work has appeared in several publications including Night Garden Journal, London Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, Skylight 47, North of Oxford and Poetry Wales. Collections include The Sun Dial (Flutter Press), Cuffs (Rack Press), Nocturne in Blue (Lapwing Publications) and The Echoing Coastline (Agenda Editions).  Selected Poems forthcoming in 2018.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Neon Dust Falling Out of Time by Jeff Bagato

Consumed by wind 
in its full fury, sucked
dry, powdered, dusted,
each grain of ash picked
out from the others and absorbed
by new winds, tossed until
it turns to smoke; all things
will smoke in the end
as the universe dissolves,
cinder by pale cinder,
until every particle comes clean
of the others, vibrating alone
like a jukebox in a tornado
on the cold surface of a wasted 
moon—but that moon 
is now dust, and the neon 
record machine is now
dust, and the music is dust,
but the song lifts up 
from the shining voices 
of those cinders floating 
on a space-time sea—
the tingling of destruction,
like some lost mollusc
joy when no longer forming
a pearl but becoming one,
flesh going hard and smooth
and gray as electric carrion,
or just neon dust
falling out of time;
there are these
things we can’t know,
and that’s all our dreams
are good for

A multi-media artist living near Washington, DC, Jeff Bagato produces poetry and prose as well as electronic music and glitch video. Some of his poetry has appeared in Empty Mirror, Futures Trading, In Between Hangovers, Otoliths, Your One Phone Call, and Zoomoozophone Review. His published books include Savage Magic (poetry), And the Trillions (poetry), The Toothpick Fairy (fiction), and Computing Angels (fiction). A blog about his writing and publishing efforts can be found

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

Rotherwas by Diane Jackman

I writhe and rhythm from river to hilltop,
guarding the land. Earth and water
are my home, close and familiar.

I did not notice the water’s chill
making me slow, sluggish, 
trapping my scales in fingers of ice.

Imperceptibly I was cloaked in cold
as the ice sheets spread south.
Soon I slept.

Layers of ice pressed me down, shrank 
and shrivelled me, stripped flesh 
from sinew, crushed and denatured me.

Left me as a silver ribbon 
of quartzite and fire-cracked pebbles. 
I did not know ice could burn.

You may not see me.
I am waiting.

* The Rotherwas Ribbon or Dinedor Serpent in Herefordshire is a series of linked curves of fire-cracked stones dating back to the Bronze Age. So far unique in Europe, it has some similarities to the Great Serpent Mound in Ohio.

Diane Jackman’s poetry has appeared in small press magazines and anthologies, and won several competitions.  Her childhood was spent on a farm in the English Midlands where the fields were enclosed by the ruined stone walls of a burnt-out seventeenth-century Dower House.  It has had an effect on her work.

Monday, June 11, 2018

The Silent Night by Rimli Bhattacharya

It is just me with thoughts of him
As I find this darkness strange,
He who had left me long ago
Till these silent nights became my cronies.

I tilt my head skywards
I see the Milky Way,
Those dotted stars are the ones
He had left me for – 

The black eerie of the silent nights
Would never escape my memory.
I was tired, I was lonely.

For he had left me long ago
Till these silent nights became my cronies.

I suffer silently
Under the funereal silent nights.
I am weakened from the core
For I do not want anyone to promise me 
The moon or the stars. 
I want him to lie with me
On the dew coated moist grass.
Holding hands I wish we could watch them.
Him and me, just the two of us. But No – 
These are my imaginations flying high.  

Tears in my eyes I ogle at the sky,
The silver glow of moon smiles down at me.
Resting my head on the window panes
I want to escape his thoughts.
Wish I could – 
But now I only cry.

As I count the stars
Thinking about him.
He who left me long ago
Till these silent nights became my cronies. 

Rimli Bhattacharya is a gold medalist in Mechanical Engineering and an MBA in supply chain management. Her writing has appeared in several magazines, engineering journals, blogs, and in the anthology Book of Light. She is also a trained classical dancer and is based out of Mumbai, India.

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Fall 2017 Digest Coming Soon

Dear Poets & Readers,

I've been slowly working on print versions of the poems that have been posted at Night Garden.  I hope to publish the poems into seasonal digests, size 5.5" x 8.5" through  At the moment, I'm working on the Fall 2017 digest but still have some editing to do on the Table of Contents.  I can't wait to see these poems transferred to paper, they are all beautiful works and need to be preserved in print as well as online.  As soon as the Fall Issue is finished, I'll include all the pertinent information on how you can own your own copy.