By: Jimmy Sharma Love Love is not wanted or needed It is the exuberance like the way tiny rain Droplets create a stir in your soul The vibration is not planned It resonates then and there Then it stays forever You…
By: Dan A. Cardoza Ending Roads We cross the Sierras at dawn; first Reno, then further East, just as the sun cuts open the belly of the sky––it bleeds rouge, right down to the highway, now gathering its shinny black ribbon…
By: Nicholas X. Bush There’s nothing magical about it, nor is it a structural issue—plenty of languages gallop from subject to verb in neat, Germanic fashion. It’s the idiosyncrasies and idioms, causing confusion to run rampant through dictionaries, thesauruses, and emoticons…
By: Nicholas X. Bush The plan is to recognize the setting, the earlier, the better. Early autumn’s crisp air is a foil to the willing suspension of objectivity. And midsummer brings nightmarish heat. May is the kindest month, followed closely by…
By: Margarita Serafimova Harbour I am entering, the waters are sparkling. Ζεύς (Zeus) I resolved to bear my loss of you as a swan bears upon the curves of her neck the atmosphere. The River took me away from you, and…
By: Rimli Bhattacharya She loved to dream an outlier she was Ink ran through her veins. She believed in love as love gave her locution to fill the void with string of words. Yes she was a dreamer – She had…
By: Denise O’Hagan Pine nuts at lunchtime It was in the way of things That a casual sighting in a supermarket trolley In front of me of a packet of nuts And I was a girl again Delighting in that…
By George Zamalea THE RIPPLING WIND It well may be part from the tall-grass county Disappearing into the Corn Belt, The furious echoes were still hearing Through the rippling winds! Sea of Corn and laughs I must say, Where the feeding…
By: Michael Mogel Summer time walks, any time of day. Summer weather rain, a place to stop and linger. A place with metal roof, the rhythm section’s tight. They’ve played this tune before. Now that we are here don’t let…
By Michael Mogel Tire tracks fade in winters freeze A drunken winter – a spring time tease Brown pine needles slip from boughs Mittens drop to the wooden floor Wandering at night alone Watched from a winter window Like children…