By William T. Hathaway From the Book RADICAL PEACE: People Refusing War Merna al-Marjan is a young Iraqi who is currently in Germany studying European history. We talked in her dormitory room, a spartan but functional cubicle in a…
By: Christiane Demack “White, please tick this box, And welcome back – To the United States.” Identification encompassing All the glowing clouds The airplane coffee spills Encompassing the sand setting Desert silent, the children Fingers darting through the Flame playful, broken…
By: Christiane Demack I want to make you feel good Feel safe; feel thrilled I am all you need I’ll stumble Stumble honestly So you can catch me And let go of the façade That freaks me out and leaves you…
By: Christiane Demack Clean thrill, rising, again Spilled coffee, plastic cup White paper, ink – as The red roofs drop Into a warm picture Of Home. That comforting voice, Soothing, the voice of Arrivals & Departures, & Pleasant stays, High Over…
By: Christiane Demack Can you see the joys of the mountain-tops, The grandmother’s silver in your golden hair? Can you feel his arms around you, can you smell The fire of the camp-site, and feel The sheer power of the wolves?…
By: Neelam Dadhwal I looked out of the container a refreshing life, as if cells could soak oxygen. Tripled on its contents on way with friends and half down the valley we lay wreath on our expedition. Half of truths, being…
By: Shobhana Kumar suddenly, i remember faces only alive in fading photographs. today, it is the benevolent face of a grand uncle, whose freshly Cinthol-soaped face and silver white stubbles always held a smile for me. he, who i haven’t bothered…
Random House India has announced the release of the second book by Betsy Woodman this October. LOVE POTION NUMBER 10. It is the second book in the Hamara Nagar series followed by the very well acclaimed Jana Bibi’s Excellent Fortunes….
By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey Looks of love lurk in the shades Of frozen cuddle Hiding forms of elegance Stealing aroma of bodily blossoms Eyes float in skin’s supple waves Rippling, rolling and beating. The rapturous whispers of passion Run through…
By: A.J. Huffman I walk the tidal line on tired feet, forced forward, mostly by determination. The sand in my toes lends encouragement with gentle tickle of coolness. Another mile falls behind me. My breath begins to strain. The wind responds,…