By: Linda M. Crate the white raven knows darkness it kissed her in the form of a silver serpent pretending to be a wolf loyal and true; his intentions a little more sinister than she cares to remember untrue and…
By: Taslima Nasrin Translated by: Kousik Adhikari I have written one Unique poem of water Plucked out a lotus from water Red lotus Water-lotus. Whom to give this water-lotus This poem There was one to give, He had an urge to leave…
By: Taslima Nasrin Translated by: Kousik Adhikari Much have been said About farming, cards, history, And of the two swans Walking on the grassy field In neighbor’s house! Now, let’s talk about body. Let’s touch skin, pores, Putting out evening lamp, incense…
By: April Salzano it didn’t make any of the sounds I had expected. No wailing howl, no shrill scream, not even a broken sob that lasted into that first night alone. No angry hyperventilating choke, no empty gurgle of loss, no…
By: April Salzano I cannot remember the last time I drove like this, the air of autumn filling every space of my interior with warm rhythm, uneven presence. I am not sure how a song by this title has much to…
By: April Salzano Latent Farsightedness, a hidden prescription you have compensated for all of your life, the eye doctor said. My pupils swallowed his face and most of the light in the room, dilated in ocular contraction. In other words, I…
By William T. Hathaway From the Book RADICAL PEACE: People Refusing War Merna al-Marjan is a young Iraqi who is currently in Germany studying European history. We talked in her dormitory room, a spartan but functional cubicle in a…
By: Christiane Demack “White, please tick this box, And welcome back – To the United States.” Identification encompassing All the glowing clouds The airplane coffee spills Encompassing the sand setting Desert silent, the children Fingers darting through the Flame playful, broken…
By: Christiane Demack I want to make you feel good Feel safe; feel thrilled I am all you need I’ll stumble Stumble honestly So you can catch me And let go of the façade That freaks me out and leaves you…
By: Christiane Demack Clean thrill, rising, again Spilled coffee, plastic cup White paper, ink – as The red roofs drop Into a warm picture Of Home. That comforting voice, Soothing, the voice of Arrivals & Departures, & Pleasant stays, High Over…