By: Tasmia Islam Aurin Fathoms of the Mind Splintered light—a glimmer, a ghost—flickering between reason and ruin. Echoes of laughter,fractured, hollow,carving tunnels in the marrow of thought. Desire—a hand reaching through fog, grasping shadows,mistaking them for home. Memory drifts—salt-stung, half-erased,names…
By James Aitchison Arguably, there has never been an author like him. He wrote more than 400 novels — many in a matter of days — as well as 21 volumes of memoirs and countless short stories. His sales topped…
By: Jim Bates Hunter Moon risingFloating above the tree lineSublime cosmic gift. Above midnight landSilver sliver moon risingSoft serenity. Big bright Harvest MoonNorthern Lights shimmering greenNight sky full of joy. Full moon bright and boldShadows dance across the landLike a…
By: Debbie Tunstall I am the earth, wind and fire.I am the soft swishing water over minds.I know that’s impossible for you to believe, but I think you’ll know when it’s time.I remember when there was nothing to feel inside,I…
By: Pawel Markiewicz You – such a dreamery born from Dionysian odeslike tender day in Your winds – enchanted butterflies as the Golden Fleece – bewitched in my meek fantasy august paradise lost is thus found and so dreamy You…
By: Stefan Sofiski The grey hour… I wait for her at the square. Behind me is a bronze statue of a priest, hand raised at his invisible congregation. Trams’ iron wheels screech around me. Hers is late. I draw from…
By: Jim Murdoch Kairos Who lets slip Fortune, her shall never find.Occasion once pass’d by, is bald behind.– Abraham Cowley, Pyramus and Thisbe There is only now.There is no unnow or antinow.There are past nowsand the nows to come(the so-called…
By: Dr. Gulshan Ara It was a small island in the middle of the Pacific OceanVacationing tourists came from afarColorful flood light painted the canvas of the moonlightFull moon in the sky and music in the air cast a magical…
By: Richard LeDue Canned Corn Left on the Store Shelf I am a genius according to a websitebecause I had some of the characteristicsit listed, like messy handwriting,even though I’ve never eaten a burgerwith the president, and instead writepoems like…
By James Aitchison It’s hard to believe that the two men who wrote the best known, two-fisted, gun-slinging Western novels had such odd, even inappropriate names. One was named Pearl. The other, Clarence. They were born eleven years apart and…