By: Maryam Iftikhar You are close to me,like the brightest star in the sky.But when I lift my finger to touch it,a devastating truth breaks me:even in this world,I’m still a million stars away from you. Tides of longing sweep…
By: Bruce Levine Shadows of mountains parade over valleys within. Streams resemble arteries, sustaining life, as trout evading anglers reveal cascading thoughts of life and death that society proclaims meaningless in movies: Hollywood’s refrain. Cheaper by the dozen. A cartoon…
By: Tanjila Ontu She once had a home that felt like lightThen it broke apart without a fightTwo houses now, and separate daysBut none of it felt quite okay She watched the world from quiet eyesWhile others lived their lullabiesTheir…
By: James Aitchison At journey’s end,carried by wavesnot of our making,we come to rest.Tumult is done;at last we can claimimmortality.We have travelled farwithout fear,without anxiety,for we knew thattranquility awaitedand we shall berewarded.
By: James Aitchison Are you to save them all?Are you to carry every burden?Know that every man isable to save himself,should he choose to.Every man must conquerhis own path.The barriers facing himare not yours to remove.Is there no mercy?Are there…
By: Bruce Mundhenke In that moment there was beauty,That words could never tell,Born out of a longing,The gift, a gift of joy,Eternal gift,Not to be forgotten,By the giver or receiver,A present that bindsOur past and futureInto now,And brings a gladnessAnd…
By: Jim Bates Train whistle blowingClicitty clacking alongChasing the sunset. Hot summertime bluesHigh heat and humidityLike a sauna. Deep into JulyGardens bright in hot sunshineSummer in full bloom. Summertime sunriseHazy orange sun looks ominousHot heat kind of day.
By John Grey BREAKDOWN USA We’re broken down in the middle of nowherethough you insist this is Iowa.I no longer believe in mapslike I no longer have faith hi American manufacturing.A ribbon of smoke rises from the car’s engine.I imagine…
By: Miss Debbie Ann Tunstall. Would they notice the fogsettling, brushed lightly over my punnet? Maybe if I become older, wiserthey’ll buff me finely until I shine. If I cracked, would they care, mend me back together with surgical hands?…
By: Khaiam Yousof and this land is covered with yellow and blue flowers dancing in the wind.Can you hear laughter echoing through the empty streets of Kharkiv and Odesa, instead of the screams of bombs and the howling of rockets?…