By: Tom Sheehan Leaping from his chair, arms raised in a sign of total surrender to the sound that he thought will most likely come with the same horrific resonance when the whole damned universe breaks in half, Carlos Penez…
By: William T. Hathaway My dad was cheating on mom. I saw him and his girl friend at a disco, dancing and kissing. She was plump and plain, not much older than me, the kind who’d probably have to take…
By: Gaither Stewart Someone was playing the piano in the far room. High laughter and shouts and shrieks sounded from the corridor. Near him there was a generalized swishing of expensive silks to the sound of cocktail chatter. Over the…
By: Anca Mihaela Bruma Each of your Emotion, tears the Time’s tactile sense!… Inside this bi-polar Existence… With unspoken words, floating within spaces… Each of your Emotion, Has a different season!… But I found a Place, to raise the Punctuation… where…
By: Anca Mihaela Bruma A woman can be a variety of archetypes from the embodiment of compassion and mercy, to the personification of wisdom and cold analysis. In these modern times, women need to feel empowered, and not defined by their…
By: Joan McNerney Slides under door jambs pouring through windows painting my room black. This evening was spent watching old movies. Song and dance actors looping through gay, improbable plots. All my plates are put away, cups hanging on hooks….
By: Joan McNerney I want to make scarves from the sky. Since I’m not much of a seamstress, here’s hoping it won’t be too hard. To start I’ll just pick up a fleecy white cloud to cover my neck. Maybe create…
By: Gaither Stewart Wearing a beige suede jacket and a blue beret low over his right ear, James Frederick Dellinger stepped out onto his porch and looked around uncertainly at the new day. Clamping his aged leather satchel under his…
By: Debraj Bhattacharya At the National Library there are usually three types of readers. The students from the University campus as well as from other parts of the city and the research scholars coming from different parts of the world form…
By: Neelam Singh The night falls Upon my deprived grief-stricken soul Every soul retires for the night, my pretense of rest still lies abound Turmoil of emotions swells up like waves What to do, what will I see next? Lay…