By: Puneet Kumar Life is So Stupid Life is so stupidIt can walk on a roadThat doesn’t goTowards the real goal It doesn’t knowHow roads intersectHow one leads to anotherAnd how life goes haywire It moves in a new directionUnknown…
Few lives can truly be described as a roller coaster ride, with all its unpredictable drama and thrilling pace. Robert W. Norris, a Northern California-born author who settled in Japan, is one such person. He takes us through the twists…
By: Ammanda Selethia Moore The rain and clouds couldn’t dampen our spirits as we gathered to take the short truck ride up to the barrio above Matagalpa. I stood between an elderly white lady with gray hair combed and pinned…
By: Ammanda Selethia Moore THE HUSK The Marines killed my brother: my twin, my double,who whispered his fears to me at night,the other half of my heart,whose laugh and bright eyesI loved. He diedsometimeafter bootcampbefore deployment. In his placethey sent…
By: Alex Guffey This is My Last Serenade Floating in the span of space, hearing the hymn of my swan song. This is the infinite sadness of song, sung on a moment’s notice, sealed on a permanent staccato. I…
By: Jim Brosnan April Hike Beyond the lastcrusted snow mound,an early morningsunrise ignitesyellow forsythiain vibrant huesas I trudge alongwoodland’s edgepast the hushedeastern white pinestoward the bogswhere peepers singin unison. Indianpipes poke throughdecayed compost,their curved whitebodies stark againstthe muted brownof pine…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Sobriquets After the mumblecrust’s diddums set down alongside the woman’s bouquet,She blushed, held her breath, exhaled. Then she wailed; not seeking respect,But common courtesy, the youthful bride, a biddable female, never forecastHerself attacked by a less…
By: Eralieva Umutkan Polotovna HAPPINESS HAS COME Late, but the happiness has arrived: I will tell you my secret, my way.It says the happiness, taking my wrists, I want to scare the “sluggish” dreams away.It all seemed to be handed…
By Onkar Sharma On the banks of Vaitarni, we standOur fate was done, we thoughtOur fate is due, we now hearAcross the silent flow of the gory YamunaThere’s a rough storm brewing across the riverDo we not brace for a…
By Lefcothea Maria Golgaki Suppose you saw the truth,would you still blame the lepersfor the gaping wounds in your body? And if your sky was sullen,would you yet reproach the flickering candlefor the shadow it casts? So boundless is your…