By: Linda M Crate you’re the devil except you don’t wear prada just tennis shoes, and an attitude more condescending than a strutting male peacock; you think the whole world should bow down and serve your lazy entitled rear— you…
By: JD DeHart From another room, I can see you seeing me. I only know what my hands looks like, and I hate the sound of my own voice recorded, reading back to me. I avoid mirrors when I can….
By: JD DeHart She speaks with the mouth of a creature who begs the stage. She wants, needs, absurdly craves to tell her story over and over and loud. She is confined by her own shackles of perception, caged by…
By: JD DeHart I raise my eyebrow at the dog and he (she?) does not know what I mean. When I hold you close and you make a sound, does that auditory phenomenon mean what I hope it does? When…
The Owl and the Pussycat is a classic nonsense poem by Edward Lear which has always been one of favourite poems since my childhood. I’ve deliberately chosen this poem for today since I feel that every young reader should read…
By: Gaither Stewart Professor Emiliano Madero liked to profess publicly that he felt he was in the midst of an epic battle between the two gods of ancient Mexico: Quetzalcoatl, the hero–founder of agriculture and industry, and Tezcatlipoca, the ubiquitous…
By: Zunayet Ahammed You’ve hyped my life more than I’ve ever been So a big floral thank you to you for all your love and fragrance you proffer Whenever I cherish someone in my croft You’re there to sit close…
By: Tanmoy Biswas ***** Groom could not be found for Shontu’s sister. She was squint-eyed. She buried her life behind the noisy sewing-machine and inside dumb kitchen. Once Shontu took her and their old mother to Darjeeling. when in the cloud-free…
By: Tanmoy Biswas Kolkata. Sudder Street bylanes. New Delhi. Rajiv Chowk, outside metro station. Hyderabad. Punjagutta Circle. Bangalore. Backyards of Majestic. Kathmandu. Thamel. Faces painted trite. You smack of caution. Your catches stink erection, beer and (if you’re lucky enough) money….
By: Bekah Steimel Pretend death mailed you a final notice what would you modify, what would you hold close to the ticking time bomb in your chest? give yourself a day to really die, a day to embrace what matters to…