By: Ajay Kumar Beach The sand refuses to own, the sea denies, orphaned the plastic breathes in undeservation- I feel obliged to call my limbs brown describing them under the sand even though, there, or beneath sea-foam, it is not…
By: Alan Berger I have not done anything wrong Then again, my memory Ain’t that long A walk in the sunny park Has become a stroll in quicksand In the dark I watch the news And search to see Who…
By Onkar Sharma that girl in the yellow top once left me aghast.came you like a gust of breeze and I was clutched in thy love, at last. you met, and my life was filled with starlight.you met, and my…
By: Mahathi PRANAVA (Sonnet) That sound sonorous, heard I ere, somewhere, coming from deep ethereal caverns. It’s like a numinous boom from vacuous sphere and like the whiffs of wind through dancing ferns. Sometimes I heard it low and verily…
By John Andreini Ringing like a small windchime followed a shadow sliding behind the three human silhouettes perched on the roof. “What’s that?” asked Dean, twisting his body. “My mom’s idiot cat. Kiki,” said Peter. “Bitch hates me.” “Kiki?” asked…
By Thomas Elson Bierley knew … Monday morning at the tail end of the worst storm of 1982, and Daniel J. Bierley III, sole surviving family member of a third-generation law firm founded by his grandfather in 1913, rushed past…
By: Alex Deramo Something about Rain The first growl of thunder chases us upstairs Water already leaking through the forgotten crack, we push open my bedroom window, Letting the fierce cry of rain into the quiet of my room A…
By: Dirk Dunbar Our Endless Sojourn Watching my shadow switch direction as I follow this babbling brook helps me feel the spontaneity of life’s patterns. Like wheat fields waving to and fro, duck flight formations echo rhythms of wildlife’s dance…
By: Rachel Reyes October 21st, 2017 According to the newspaper clippings on your office wall, you are the brilliant Oscar Markovich, fourth-generation business owner, scrappy and shrewd, fast-talking and foul-mouthed, seventy-six years old but still going strong like a sturdy…
By: Alan Berger There she was. Just sitting there. At the local bowling alley with her friends. As she was waiting for her turn, she thought how lovely it would be if later that evening, the sounds of the bowling…