By: James Aitchison Why did I write a particular poemon a particular day?What strange convergence of forcessuddenly came into play? Did I catch words as they fell free from God?Were my thoughts plucked from the sky?If so, I am grateful…
By: Rajiv Khandelwal The Greek-Roman God Janus Pondered all plus and minus Plans…
By: donnarkevic Richard Cory’s Wake The black stain of the priestplumes across the roomlike factory smokestack fumes,his sleight of handon the dole for Requiem stipendshe spends on Jameson and Harp. Battling summer sweat,non-union cogs fidget in line,watching the clock,hungry for…
By: Dwit David Philip IYour conservative ethosis a way livingyour pretensionIs a volcano camouflagelike a value system. IIAn instinct paraphraselate night sleepuninterpreted eyesopen on a knockrepents the tired sin. IIIHer first blink, grabbed in thebracket of the beautyVanished in an…
By: Paul Tanner 2 supervisors caught himat the chiller section,shoving packs of bacon into his anorak.they dragged him into the manager’s office … you go backto scanning and packingfor the queue … about ten minutes laterthe guy in the anorakgoes…
By: Mihika Saraf The color Black,Black is an ominous color,It represents the sign of death and sadness,It is the colour of the silence, the language in which the silence utters consequences,In ebony crowded around a casket void of a whisper.Black…
By: Mahathi THE FLOOD(In India modern dams are constructed without arranging alternate habitat to the displaced people, who are mostly tribals living on the forest resources. The dams on other hand are causing great environmental danger by razing down forests,…
By Clark Zlotchew Plunged into darknessalleviated by flaming torcheson rough-hewn rock walls,damp walls of a cavern.Flickering flames cast shifting shadowson stone surface in disturbing dance.I plod and I trudge in slow motion. Before me suddenlya narrow tunnel appears.I squat in…
By: Jordan Zuniga Stirring, stirring, the pounding of the drum,Marching, marching, to collect the final sum,Where patience was once a virtue that surely stayed,A king’s messenger declared that death would no longer be delayed,The mustering of arms, the soldiers hosts…
By: Strider Marcus Jones WE MOVE THE WHEEL we move the wheelthat turns through each mistake,giving motionto the roles we chimeuntil both trickle out of timelike brittle steelthat rusts and breaksinto lapsed devotion. less, or more,you imagined it was suresharing…