By: Patricia Tramble “Amanda, Jacob scored his first goal today!” Bruce was so excited. “The crowd went mad! There they were the Tiger vs the Cougars, game tied 4-4, Jimmy Thomas kicks the ball down the field and our little…
By: Uche Ozo The night was dark, and the silence deafening, with occasional chatters that sounded like the hoot of owls. I lay still on my bed, eyes to the ceiling and sweating profusely as if I had embarked on…
By: Glenn Ingersoll The Story About the Exercise Her cheeks have a touch of color. And she is wearing a red sweatsuit. “I’m getting so that I look forward to Artemis,” she says. The health club where my brother’s sweetheart…
By: Alexandra Sullivan There is a hooded figure than glides across the white dead sea. Her boat floats as soft as the souls that echo round her. Everyone meets her when their time comes. Many fear her; others willingly go,…
By: M. Taggart A piece of mind is a funny thingflecking out among the trees Somewhere we leave a laughlooking for a smile Came home with a bag of sunshine asking you to not write. However, nothing is like your…
By: Franklin Powers Frank had worked at Premiere Marketing for a few years now and had been promoted to Vice President of Sales. He spent a lot of time at work, neglecting his wife and kids. He had brought his…
By: Mark Tulin The Next Beatles Song I keep waiting for the next Beatles song sitting by the radio in my psychedelic bedroom. I know if I hear it first, it will be groovy and I’ll be totally in awe….
James G Piatt’s collection of poems ‘Solace between the lines’ oscillates between darkness and light
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Dr James G Piatt’s poetry collection ‘Solace between the lines’ is up for grabs. Dr Piatt’s latest collection of poems, travels the roads between spirituality and chaos, war and peace, and darkness and light. The poems are personal and philosophical,…
By Grant Guy pretty buy floyd knew water made itself scarce that summer the cattle withered to skin & bones the sheep were sold off the land was parched ranches foreclosed but like time the banks were eternal & found…
By: Carson Pytell Artist Nature cannot help herself, But we pay no mind. And less. What is the punishment for stepping on the Gioconda? Or farting louder than a nocturne? Freedom. Onto snare roofs she brushes rains, Into cornet sky…