By: Garima Sharma In the balms of my new forehead that grew like grief over the walls you could never see the shame. my backs thousands of them, became mirrors that turned into silver blanks dots of the mind after every…
By: Garima Sharma A lonely woman takes lovers, no dreams, children, shoe bites, men and brothels of feet. coins, zari, and the young boy outside the hamaam. Freedom was never for the darling slave, whose wrists are bound by spit,…
By: Garima Sharma I am the one who sweats sadness killing knees and loneliness on slow roads did you hear? when I erupted like a dying river? on those blue sheets my hair greased with horror and navel burning with rejection?…
By: Gaither Stewart From her seat high in the corner of the grandstand Sophia is at the same altitude as the acrobat on the trapeze. She leans forward from the edge of her seat and gazes across at him. His…
By: Aneesha Roy I thought of you for days and months. I thought of you in tempestuous storms and insurgent gales. I thought of you in bitter snow and in hale. I thought of your beady eyes, your crooked nose…
By: Aneesha Roy Dear little Cecilia, sprightly, contumacious, Tiptoed to her room; carefree, audacious, She was to star in a little skit In a few days, too soon. She expected no laurels, no exalted praise, But was determined to give…
By: Aneesha Roy An unsolicited phrase of reproach Escaped my lips today. It was undeserved and rude And perhaps directed at Her rawest nerve. She said nothing much in defence. She was too hurt to speak. No execration, no distasteful…
By: Aneesha Roy She strolls into her study in Her characteristic, Neanderthal gait; Her shoulders drooping, Her skin misted with sweat; Her breath heavy And her day laid waste. She approaches her mahogany desk Under the ornate ceiling And devours…
By: Raymond Greiner My name is Howard Woodward. I have lived in this city for twenty years, have a good paying job and live in an up scale apartment. During formative years I dreamed of city life, an ever-busy place…
By: William T. Hathaway From the book RADICAL PEACE: People Refusing War I first met the man we’ll call Trucker in 1970 at a rally against the Vietnam War. Our demo was going to start on the Berkeley campus…