By: Alan Berger My little babyMy little dearYou’ve lost so much weightSoon you’ll disappearWe been together for so longYet it seems like only yesterdayWe both were bornYou can’t feel anything except my kissesYou can’t hear a thing no moreExcept my…
By: Alan Berger I WONDER WHAT STEPS SHE TOOK TODAYWas I in her thoughts?Was I in her way?I wonder who she spoke to todayDid she speak of me?If I had to guess I would have to say nay The one…
By: Fabrice B. Poussin Making a heart Screaming in utter silence he stands on the icy peak snowy blankets float over the unknown vales obstacle to a life which has now and long forgotten the days hope could still be…
By: Henry Bladon the fizz of the neon How did I end up here alone with the fizz of the neon? The city is rotten, ruined with the smell of haste. Mankind is only pretend, formed by accident and kept…
By Chinese Poet Yuan HongriTranslated by Yuanbing zhang Another Me From Heavens If blue is namely white and black is namely red and gold is transparent as crystal and light makes the soul smile forgetting the sun, moon and stars…
By: Oliver Baer 89. I’m out of place The unseen guides me to the house of the heart It’s filled with life Yet I hear its beat as if buried Under the floorboards in the ground Its call eludes me…
By: Carol Smallwood Carole Mertz, author, poet, and editor, has had works published in literary journals, U.S., Canada, Great Britain, and Africa. She is a Book Review Editor for Dreamers Creative Writing; reader of prose and poetry for Mom Egg…
By: Ioana Cosma Aschenbach Loving what’s beautiful is What is left of the soul’s journey If it were to escape relativity if It were to recant the evil done To others and to oneself It would decline the cup offered…
By: Mary Bone Deracinating Memories Dusting furniture in every room where dust mites could gather, sweeping away fragments from a lifetime of dust clogging pores. Memories deracinate to another time, as I open windows letting in the sunlight. ### Winter…
By: Alimson Esther I am tired of humans so I walk away, resting my feet on sincere grass. I crouch like a baby afraid of the womb. My fingers brush away the liquid that pools at my eyes. ‘Did it…