By: Safiyyah Motaib was walking down a road one day met a spider and thought I’d listen to what he had to say was 63 years old he said while he weaved golden thread around, silver stars he looks into when…
By: JD DeHart There is a wider world of ideas hidden inside ink on many pages, ready to be opened up, released into the air, like a fine scent There is a wider knowledge, a broader experience, a different view…
By: JD DeHart Most of life seems to be maintenance, keeping the edges drawn neatly Most of my soul seems to be watching the boundaries, knowing the limits, and allowing Life to flow at it needs, sprouting and thriving, a series…
By: Chuck Orloski For the past 10-years, I tried to make up for lapses in weekly Sunday church envelope contributions by working as a volunteer at the St. Ann Novena food stand. To impose penance and exact a measure of punishment…
By: Jeo Jenny Loved you by my soul Dared to hurt myself for you Simple parting made me in tears When I happened to hear your name I smiled within Each moment of yours kissed me The moment came real We…
By: Ruth Deming Boston Market, crucible of the western world stands as a watchtower on Welsh and York as Evelyn and I enter the air-conditioned splendor with joy and a sigh A long line of hungry people snake around the…
By: Ruth Deming She took to sleeping on her screened-in back porch during these terribly hot nights in August. A long chaise lounge took up half the room and lay on the green carpeting that looked like freshly mown grass. Her…
By: William C. Blome You show me someone who’s familiar with hawks That swoop only for barbells, And I’ll show you a goofy lummox Who’s undoubtedly rarer than the birdies In question. And, okay, it’s your refuse-heap love For me…
By: Pavle Radonic Would be interesting to verify with B/P, but certainly this place produces calm, ease and releases some strong endorphins. The music needs to filter out from the kitchen unobtrusively like this, almost beneath consciousness. One little precociously…
By: David Churack I remember that it was rubbish collection day when I died. The strongest emotion I felt over the whole day was bitter resentment at the metaphorical implications. Truth be told, though, I was ready to die. I was…