By: Jim Bates Frosty snowy moonThin clouds serenely driftingNight so softly veiled.
By: Pramod Rastogi Harvesting Happiness Clouds brim with ambitions insaneAnd top up their tank with nostalgiaReady to besiege the barren farmlands.Here tears spatter in smoky plumesAnd in dance pose is the paddy farm. The sun is large in the sparkling…
By: Ursula O’Reilly STORM Rain is pounding tearsOnto my windowpane.Oozing tears intoThe abandoned forest. Wind wails in the treetops.The forest sways and creaks,Anticipating the worst.Water soaks leaves and grass. The waterlogged earth groans.Stout storm clouds gather,Soon to burst.The storm will…
By: Ruvindra Sathsarani The darkness, singsInOccasional chimesof how you cannotcoincidewith the saving ofhis soul, and it isn’tsimpleto wave your hand inair and tellthe world howan explosionsomewhere elsewas staged, stampedand launched, in seconds,and reason outwhythere were few dropsof bloodon your palms….
By: Bobby Zielinski The Ukraine Dream, with streets, once paved with gold,now filled with bombed-out buildings and military detours.the Dream has now been put on hold. Once dreaming of greatness, and awaiting just rewards,which Putin has attempted to vanquish, will…
By: Mini Babu Once you nearly dieyou turn unafraid,you request for two days,to assort life. Trust me,you do not focus onwhat people think you would. . . Rather,you recall your first love,you retrieve the dayyou drew nearyour best friendbrushing sides,you…
By: Ken W. Simpson Gratuitous Living The well of loneliness is dry and emptya sad, inhospitable placewithout love or the affection of a canaryfertilised by human’s follyand the febrile and fractious friendshipsfermenting as happinesssocially addictive but good for businessin an…
By: James Aitchison I have been asked:Can one of you change the world?See into your pure and inner self first,The most supreme of all human experiences.The eternal wheel spins all fates and destinies,Some lives are more advanced toward me,And I…
By: John Grey SINCE YOU ASKED A small unicorncupped in my handor the dead .and missingslowly strolling up my sidewalklike it’s Halloween in January — the rain playing somethingby Duke Ellingtonor a finger wrapped in cellophanesent to me parcel post…
By: Richard LeDue Never Really Liked Hotels The front desk worker wears an undertaker’s smileand the ones who don’t smilemake me feel like someone askingwhere the bathroom is at a funeral,while the muffled conversations I try not to hearin the…