By: Michael Stein “ANGELS”The expanding cosmos,Divine syzygies speeding awayTo no one knows,Myriads of angels in play. The snowy misty cloudsOf tiny drops and drips,Each in concinnity conveyed their gods,Wee angels with fluttering wings. Of the gods of green,Cosmical hover on…
By: Stephen Faulkner Changing my belief system was quite a simple thing in my case. Jesus was a simple answer to a complex malaise, a muddying of the spirit, if you will forgive such a strange metaphor. In the beginning,…
By: Alan Berger He would have said how the fuck could they make a trumpet out of plastic and have come forth out of it with such beautiful sounds. Sounds like he heard his father play on his brass trumpet….
By: The Birch Twins reams of Raglan Crag, narrated by Lady Elina Greypepper No laughter sang around the fells No mothers there to nag No hunt, no dance, no brave or bold For they died at Raglan Crag She held…
By: Paweł Markiewicz I have just returned from a walk with my beloved hound on foot, which has a good heart, the tenderly shaped by Erlking dog’s heartlet. I’m feeling very well at home, as well as blissfully. I have a light…
By: Camille Paldi It was the spring of 2008 and I had recently qualified as a lawyer in New South Wales, Australia, after having completed an LL.M. in International Law at the University of Sydney, a Juris Doctor in Law…
By: E.R. LeVar Ruby ran a clump of Caroline’s pale hair through her hands, feeling for the knots and mats before taking a brush to it. She was gentle, as gentle as could be. “Ow!” “Sorry. Your hair’s too knotty….
By: Mark Tulin Resignation Don’t worry about me.I’ve wasted too much timeinvesting in your company,making your profits,building your dream house,watching the shares of your stocks risewhile you get a new Mercedes every year. I don’t want your money.I like myself…
By: Paweł Markiewicz Poland the eyesome fay at the crack of dawn in winteris weepingthe winter rain in the form of magnificent teardrops is dropping downit is to be mesmerized in glaciated dreams of musesthe shepherd boy hears the falling…
By: Thomas Fitzgerald McCarthy A heavy fog cloaked most of Verdando Mountain in the winter. From a distance, it was thick and glassy, and the few houses in the valley below looked like little more than particles of residue trapped…