By: Enda Boyle Autumnal As inevitable as the season itself,a baggy, vague and crappy wordtumbling out from the mouthsof gormless T.V weather people.Blazed across reusable coffe cupsin orange pumpkin pastel script.A department store catch-allused to add novelty and classto bedspreads…
By Onkar Sharma Very recently, I picked up another book from the Crossword bookstore. It was a book called ‘Fluid’ by Ashish Jaiswal. ‘Fluid’ is a treatise that questions the popular education system poised to produce specialists by discouraging cross-discipline…
By: Farzana Israt Gonewherehasit gone? the timespentwith Nonsense? distant,something isbreaking. i awake. somewhere,i hearcrying. ### Filling inBut how does onenot daydreamendlessly?How can oneresist filling inthe empty spaceswith aneternal fantasy?
By: Alex Andy Phuong Social hierarchyFilled with diversityColorful iridescenceAesthetic decadenceThere might be evilin the worldbut there is still hopefor the ones who dreamNo matter how hard life may seemCelebrate life and cheer for the dreamersPursuing passions respectfully
By: Mary Bone Storms of Blue The storms of bluematched your eyes-sapphire orbs,moongazing into the universe,leaving twinkleson the horizon. ### Embracing the Sun A vacation beganby embracing the sun.With arms open wide,I was on an adventureas I relaxed in crystal…
By: Oormila Vijayakrishnan Prahlad Chandelier Waltz The chandelier was sparedin the renovation spreeMarty who sold us the placeripped up wall and plankto clean lines, spartan spacebut for reasons known only to himleft this fixture untouched. a neighbour tells me stories…
By Onkar Sharma Santiago, a shepherd and the protagonist of Paulo Coelho’s ‘The Alchemist’, goes after a treasure but finds many as far as I understood the tale. I suddenly drew out the book from my library after many years…
By: Anthony Rosa The Eternal Reflection I look into the mirrorand what do I see?A broken man,is staring at me. A meek old manwith a soft, wrinkled mind,a short skinny body,torn apart by time. Where is the boyI used to…
By: Bruce Levine The rain had lasted for three days and the streets looked more like a river than pavement. Walking his dog became more of an effort each time as the torrents of water washed against them and the…
By Gaither Stewart 1. At thirty-six years I’m on record as the youngest Operations Director in the history of the international cultural organization where I’ve worked for the last nine years. Now as my best friends know, I’m not…