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Poetry There are a number of poets among the Ovi team, so we have gathered the together here.

 Your life against mineYour life against mine by Katerina Charisi
You wake up at dawn, your eyes adjust to the pale light. I wake up in the middle of night, eyes burning.
 The Burial of the DeadThe Burial of the Dead by Dr. Lawrence Nannery
The cenotes led The Fathers of Us All to it: at the bottom of the waters there is a cave, with land one can walk on, and breathe.
 Alexandra David-Neel (V2)Alexandra David-Neel (V2) by Michael Lee Johnson
She edits her life from a room made dark against a desert dropping summer sun. A daring traveling Parisian adventurer,
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 Apprehension Apprehension by Jan Sand
I do not argue with the wind And rain may wet me if it must. Random events leave me chagrined. There's not much more to be discussed.
 Concrete Jungle Concrete Jungle by Nikos Laios
The neighbour next door was beating A worn red coloured Persian rug With a tennis racket at the back Of his unit and clouds of dust Rose up into the air.
 Heaven is My Horse Fly (V2)Heaven is My Horse Fly (V2) by Michael Lee Johnson
A common horse fly peripatetic traveler vacationing in my world into my bathroom,
 Once upon a timeOnce upon a time by Abigail George
I've been living underground like graffiti, the grunge scene, gravity and volcanic rock for the longest time. I've been many things in my life.
 The Dream, AgainThe Dream, Again by Dr. Lawrence Nannery
Oona was in it, as she is in all the ones I remember. Why I was lying on the ground in front of the house, hiding my face In that gigantic cushion mom and I used to use when we watched the old roundscreen Zenith T.V., I'll never know.
 Ruminating in Bass StraitRuminating in Bass Strait by Ovi Magazine Guest
A different beach hedonism decorates these days. Early fog burned off, wetsuited kite-surfers ski waves, deftly dodging tinnies, rocks, and bathers. A canopy eclipses the sun, a looming prehistoric bird above my shadowed nape, this familiar waterline.
 Dismissed by tomorrowDismissed by tomorrow by Katerina Charisi
I scrape the dreams I chased with my own blood I banish the lies with the carmine drops My eyes follow the sky and I run; I run as fast as I can to catch the horizon.
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