By: Ian Castorillo I made a bracelet a pure white bracelet with a knot a knot that stands for eternity the bracelet is small small like my wrists or like my feelings but they both expand every morning I struggle to…
By: Jonathan Perez Nothing is what I get to say, but why would I talk if no one is listening? It’s like I’m the outlet and they’re the charger, but I can’t let them see what their excessive plugging does to…
By: Chuck Orloski (13 March 2017) I am Jack, Jack BeNimble to avoid a fall into deep snow drift. Or am I actually Jack, Jack BeQuick to get out of the candlestick storm alive? Stella blows upon red chapped cheeks….
By: Crystal Chavez I walk this plane unseen Invisible to the public My existence unrecognized Brown hair and dark eyes Tan skin overshadowed on the Silver Screen Flooded with beach blonde waves and bright blue eyes Erasure so thorough That…
By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey Setting my sights on unknown heights Unable to map out a route to my destination, I lost my way to an unknown territory. The trees were young and green loaded with spring blossom and green canopies, Luring…
By: Gaither Stewart (Rome) The recent death of the Russian poet with whom I was acquainted, Yevgheny Yevtushenko, prompted these considerations of the role of poets in social-cultural-political progress in general and in a particularly spectacular fashion in Russia. In few…
By: Sydney Carcereny My Burns are my battle scars Ten years old and scorched By a fire that wanted to take my life. I choked on the smoke that invaded and strangled my throat Fist tighten, weighing any regret till they…
By: Leena Adhvaryu There are all kinds of love in the world and then there is us; a dying star in a moonless sky an unusual metaphor, a metaphor nonetheless of how flaws can be breathtakingly beautiful.
By: Dr. Duane Vorhees Title: Dreams of the Sacred and Ephemeral Author: Kiriti Sengupta Published by Hawakal Publishers in April, 2017 Price: INR 350 / 15 USD ISBN: 97893-85782-62-6 [Hardbound] Page count: 202 Reviewed by Duane Vorhees In the “Alap” to…
By: Hyeonjin Yang I’m walking barefoot through the rain. Overflowing, creating a river of seconds I’m building a dam called memories. Opening arms like Father Sky, hoping I catch them all Blazing comets fall to the earth, each emanating distant recollections…