By: Kousik Adhikari The poisoned words of my heart, Play like my foster children, Till without memory, just sprouted teeth, They always seeks a true cover After escaping easy childhood… youth, I notice their rustling youth With bitter eyes, Now the…
By: Kousik Adhikari Nowadays I feel Accustomed with life-glorified life! Always dangling over head And yet sword’s magic shining! Moon-drops oozing on rain Sea caressing sands- Truly romance walks in ant’s legs Through spine! Till one hungry cock calls Till monarchs…
By: Raymond Greiner At the river daily I see the Heron wading. Classified as an aquatic bird; the Heron is equally reliant on land. The riverbank offers access to food sources, building its nest in a high tree relying on its…
By: Sozou-Kyrkou Konstantina The Greek coffee froths and as he tries to grab the pot away from the primus stove the coffee spills and puts out the fire. He’s a real slowcoach these days. Everything seems to overtake him. A crust…
By: Sai Diwan Readers of Oscar Wilde know better than to believe that the mirror projects the image of the self. As Dorian Gray caressed impressions of the past instead of facing the reality of his wilted self, his creator…
By: Robyn Segal I have not received a birthday card, letter or note from my father in years. I suppose the mail stopped when the emails began. Maybe the mail stopped when I was too old to get a birthday card….
In the literary world, fashionable controversies are made around the battle of sexes rather than the battle of words. A bunch of male authors aren’t shying from decrying their female counterparts and vice-a-versa to claim superiority over one another. While…
By: Gaither Stewart Federico Fellini’s favorite interview technique was to explain while denying he was explaining, or not explaining anything while claiming he was explaining all. The symbolist poet – film director Fellini was a mixture of denial and irony,…
By: Raymond Greiner The bush plane’s skis touched down on a frozen lake in Northern Ontario; from her co-pilot’s seat Amanda scanned the bleak winter landscape in the receding light. The fishing camp was closed and boarded up for the winter…
By: Linda M. Crate you are as sour as a blue berry noxious as smog ruder than an adder’s sting or wasp’s bite sharper than the thickest blade of obsidian night cutting into the heart of day yet you are…