By: Andrew Nickerson In military history, one name has stood above the rest for literally millennia: Sun Tzu, author of The Art of War. This incredible text takes tactics/strategy and reduces both to a common-sense set of universally applicable principles,…
By Onkar Sharma Taylor Dibbert’s “Takoma” offers readers a collection of intimate snapshots, moments plucked from the stream of daily life and presented with a disarming simplicity. The poems, often brief and direct, feel like eavesdropped conversations or fleeting thoughts…
By: Bruce Levine Upper West Side apartmentsA hidden agendaNot so hiddenTo the literatiAnd intelligentsia PsychologicalSocietal studiesFamily relationships Real and dysfunctional Phobias and foibles Siblings and psychosis Fantasies and follies False or deferential Dixieland orCafé society piano Introspective or Hyper-sensitive Transcendental…
By: Richard LeDue As Okay as It Got Some Days The silence used to be a tin can phoneI talked to the president on,only for the line to die in my sleep,as I tried not to dreamabout a nursereminding me…
By: Ken Wheatcroft-Pardue Today I’m sitting in a waiting room of another psychologist. I keep being farmed out to different ones because I’m supposedly some kind of fucked-up mess. “He saw his dad’s dead body after he shot himself,” they…
By Russell Waterman It would be a lie to say Horace Lynch woke from a coma, even though his body told him so. But given the choice between a coma or reality, gambling on never waking up again was worth…
By: Tanjila Ontu Last year I found a manBrown eyes with curly black hair.I wonder what I saw in himOh I fell in love that October. Your gaze was filled with love,words can’t express it.A sea of emotionstoo great to…
By: Mary Bone Art Is Rest A model rests on a draped cloth,as artists capture her form on paper.Lights and shadows appearusing charcoal to shade.Tendons are stretched in movement,as blue veins are highlightedwith light pastels. Poetry Is Restful Our minds…
By: Jim Bates Mourning Dove cooingSweet sure sign of early springCalming to the soul. Briskly blowing windWaves lapping along the shoreSpecial serenade. Bitter blowing windIce and snow pelting windowsSpring stepping backward. First day of AprilLight fluffy snowflakes fallingSuch a fickle…
By: Don Tassone Jayden knew his father was home because he could hear his parents’ raised voices downstairs. To him, that sound was like nails on a chalkboard. He’d been looking at the news. Not that he was…