By John RC Potter Schadenfreude By John RC PotterDefinition: “Finding joy in someone’s misfortune” This is a German word,it holds a rhythmic resonance.It has a pleasing sound,yet points to a type of penance. They meant me no lasting harm,I believe…
By: Alobu Emmanuel At The Mention Of Hope Life,a pot ofmashed beans,needs a steady fireto keep it warm. i am tired.why has a life like this been given us:one moment we have arrived. the other moment,we are far from the…
By: Karen O’Leary a year trappedin a healthcaresystem—a moneygrabbing empire where patientsmake appointmentsfor consults theydon’t qualify for??? hope dashedwearing out the illyet the cost basiscare keeps rolling
By: Judith Ferster Mr. Mendenhall’s Question On the train from New Haven to Northampton, my high school friend met the president of my college, who promptly invited us to his grand presidential house for a butler-served dinner, my first. When…
By William T. Hathaway The waves of war are rising again around the fragile ship of our civilization, threatening to sink it to the depths of barbarism and radioactive megadeath. The principle to preventing this is stated in the constitution…
By: Stephen Grant COLORS OF THE SKY Let’s look at the sky, its corners and depth, upside downand sideways. Then let’s describe its colour. Blue seemstoo obvious and doesn’t tell us much, a tautology if ever were. Red adds nothing,…
By: Carl Papa Palmer not a text, instant message,face book postor forwarded email an actual letterin a stamped envelopeaddressed to medelivered by my mailmanopened immediately your letter with a poem,a poem for me,written by yousigned by you holding your poemreading…
By: Don Tassone Bill Frazier was always drawn to news. By the time he was eight, he was reading his parents’ newspaper, the World-Herald, all the way through. It was the first thing he did when he got home from…
By Karen Lee Stradford Guest of Honor We hasten to the lobby,Coats hang on armswaiting to get checked in.A hostess directs us to the ballroom,large purple and goldlatex balloons swayin opposite directions.Rectangular tablesset in rowswith padded chairs. The smells offried…
By: Pardee Lowe, Jr. DA CAPO When I was youngAnd poems were strangeI ventured to inquireHow, poet, do words upon the page catch fire? Write, then, write, came the reply,And some day you will know. And so through the years, now,I have…