By: Daniel Olivieri Back then, we were disappointed with the lack of monsters under our beds, with the murderers not lying in wait for us, with the severed limbs not buried in our backyard. We liked the idea of demons…
By: Tom Roth i reached over my head skimmed the counter with my hands thinking opened palms were up there waiting for me above the edge but a crockpot crashed on my head i cried not in pain but in fear…
By: Tom Roth I click my mouth and clap my hands over the cold barbed wire fence and they look at me like I am the Holocaust. They have conversations with their big black eyes, asking if I am aware of…
By: Janhealth Thomas was peering at the two boys outside the window of this office. They were fiddling with their yachts beside the pond into which the sun was shedding its light Bgently. Thomas wished the sunlight also fell into his…
By: Mahinour Tawfik Like east and west is awake and conscious The power of mind couldn’t be less ominous If the slave transcends taking over his master Swirling back and forth from before to after When all but now is a…
By: Mahinour Tawfik One is born in the quest for love But what’s love but pain and woe Painters and poets all speak of Before the end, most drown below Diamond stars in dreamy skies Raindrops falling on cupid’s arrow Thunder…
By: Kate Noble Neptune, distracted, casts his merciful eye over a goodly realm and – held in that instant – likes what he sees, Wool-fat sheep aside angle-gnarled trees sprinkled through grey-grit peaks of bracken-brown slopes, And passingly visions need of…
By: Kate Noble If you thought for a moment some guy sits on high And pulls at our tensed strings from lofty cloud skies To choose in an instant who lives or who dies Or how someone acts in the blink…
By: Archita Mittra tonight, the goddess walks on moss & stone, skin stained sunset, a sky that swirls & bleeds into cob-webbed eyes dreaming the other country. tonight, the goddess walks without love or myth as shadow, counting the arrow birds,…
By: Archita Mittra when you sing to mountain dust & wild-eyed streetcars streaking through winding darkness-wearing roads, your skin lit by van gogh stars, a stain slowly swirling across your painted lips, of the last square of chocolate (from the box…