By: Mayumi Yamamoto The US hegemony began during the Second World War and peaked some thirty years later. 1.Life is strange.Sometimes, just a short encounter leads us somewhere we never expected. The Japanese surrender of the Second World War in…
By: Mayumi Yamamoto 1.It was in 1987.I was a student of Jawaharlal Nehru University,under the scholarship of the Indian government. Being a student of anthropology,I was required to learn a local language, andget used to the local way of living….
By: Raymond Greiner Habitat forms a foundation for living. Global overview reveals habitats range from Buckingham Palace to cardboard shanties in third world countries. Some live without a place of permanence sleeping in culverts or under highway overpasses. The gentry…
By: Adedoyin Ajayi You had this laughter, the kind that bubbled from deep within your chest, it rumbled forth from somewhere happy in you, like a wave rising from the deep and washing softly over everyone who stood by. It…
By: Rita McDermott Peering downward from the sky…A painted picture of lush green trees Sprouting up from the groundLike clumps of broccoli. A green garden surrounding a still body of water Pools of diamonds sparkling on the surface Courtesy of…
By: Jayashabari Shankar Spotted with yellow and brownI roam the savannah till sundown,I am a tough and strong creature,But they admire only one feature-My long sturdy neck. They come in flocks to my home,Hoping to see me roam,“Ooh” and “aahs”…
By: Anpa Marndi Requiem for the Death of Humanity After asphyxiating all the facts, with chunksof deceptive darkness, you’ve dabbedeveryone’s eyes with black kohl. In the land of the bones—-the numb bodiesthe unrebellious, innocent docile mindsare coffined in the water…
By: Ken W. Simpson Pride The nurses don’t strollthey stride resolutely and proudly. *** Boneyard Welcome to zombielandwhere old crones mingle to die in silence. ### The Treadmill Time is the mediumwe work with a method each day.
By: Kathryn Holeton From Grain to Fruit The sweet, fresh air lingers on open fingertipsGently caressing, gently raisingGiving birth to words from open lipsBringing in dark clouds laden with rainLike a captain to his ship-with the purpose of growing fruit…
By: Earl Smith She opened the door just enough. He was lying on his back snoring softly. She listened to the rhythm of his breathing. It was shallow but slow and steady. His hands were outside the blanket and folded…