By: F. Stanton Blake Dear tick like the herpes of the woods you seek to infect my life and vacation I’m not your intended prey and I am not out looking for you you take advantage of my desire to frolic…
By: F. Stanton Blake The bluefish is a noble mighty beast not kingly like a lion or tuna not deadly like shark or puma you are a handsome fish rugged lines of muscle and power big brawny bodies mimic the pumped…
By: Gaither Stewart 1. I find it curious that with the passage of time many former places of worship of various religions—cathedrals and temples, synagogues and mosques, or the pyramids in the jungles and deserts—change their nature and morph…
By: Sajan George suicide is not cowardice but a rare blinding act of pure will by a fearless mind insane though in its own lone ways it requires the agility alertness of a hunter the unwavering focus typical of those losing…
By: Tom Sheehan In time much of what we know fades away, moves away, continually moves around us, blinking and scattering, but with a breath of air touches back. It’s a face, a name, a childhood haunt in momentary dispose,…
By: JP Miller The day after I arrived in the Nam, I was immediately choppered out to Camp Radcliffe in An Khe where we were tasked to run operations in the central highlands as support for infantry units. I was…
By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia Silence Falls from your lips In little quantities Dripped with a distant hum Of disconcordant whispers The staccato of your voice Winds around my neck Stifling me From my desire for rhythm The words have…
By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia By the cliff overlooking the sea Where the waters lick the sand My shadow is cast Stretching out its invisible hand The weather is fair But my fickle friends are leaving Coaxed by wanton winds, ever…
By: Paulo Lorenzo L. Garcia Her mind meanders Through fair and starless clime And may no other thought keep hither Than the taste of love sublime This moment’s preoccupation A Feat no man’s control But to savor sorrow and passion At…
By: Linda M. Crate perhaps i am but a mad poet but they say crows lurk where faeries are and crows always follow me, i wonder how many faeries have watched my step or danced in my gradens; sometimes i…