By: James Aitchison Poetrychanges the shapeand substanceof memories.Circling truths,exposing them,crushing them.Until nothingremains ofthe original.Not one jot.
By: Charlotte Cosgrove Roman de la poire The first time the heartcame out of the bodyAs a tokenIt was cradledIn the hands of manGifting his affectionWith a pear.He mustHave been sweatingLonging forThe sumptuousnessOf the fruit.For her to takeA bite.Peel the…
By: Aleksandra Lekić Vujisić Walking I am walking on the needles of past livesThat fit so nicely in the portrait of my pain,I am holding onto sparkling memoriesThat never wanted to hug loss and shame. I am leaving without any…
By: Jim Brosnan When the World Was Silent Beneath the milkyshadows of a blue moon,I cautiously follow youas we hopscotchthe beige bouldersof the breakwater.We stop to watchreturning lobster boatsheading to port,the hum of diesel enginesfilling the August airbefore we sit…
By: Farumbo Why do i always feel judged on my lookLike re-reading your favourite parts of your favourite book ?Why do i feel this pain deep inside ,If I suffer for eternity i may just deeply cry . When i…
By: Bruce McRae The Mystery Man His atoms were formed inside exploding stars.He’s not at home on any planet. Grace. Élan. Savoir faire.Attributes beyond his ken and reckoning. He stands outside in the heaving rain.And how else does one capture…
By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey How many times I have whisperedSoftly in your ears that I am getting old.My hair has grown grey and bald patcheshave overgrown here and thereoften reminding of my dropping shouldersand sunken chest peeping through soggyeyelines and…
By: Rehanul Hoque If light is lifeThen VIBGYOR is the secret codeOf life, that speaks volumes forExistence. Daubed with a paintObjects and beings become colorfulAs much as to declare‘I exist’.On the contrary, the absence of colorMakes life dreary and drab…
By: Carolyn Adams Seeing her, or his, body always startles.The contours are generallythe same, with a fewunique differences. Faces, with theircomplex expressions,hide what won’tbe givenwillingly. But that landscapeof the frame,warm, soft,inviting and blameless planes,can’t keepdeep secrets. Vulnerabilities are exposed. The…
By: K. A. Williams Don’t Stay Indoors In The Springtime Squirrels run down oak trees and siton their haunches munching acorns.Fearlessly, a mockingbird darts inamong them to snatch a big grasshopper.Butterflies of many colors flutterhere and there with the breeze.Hummingbirds…