By: James G. Piatt Oh, gentle white rose quietly enduring the unhurried day, counting the closing minutes of the fading Magenta sun as you emit sugary aromas from buds so sweet, worry not; for soon the journey to the horizon’s closing…
By: James G. Piatt As I was quietly ambling in the woods, I saw beautiful pink irises under an old Sycamore tree, they were seemingly Humming, a silent tune. The purple Flowers were plentiful as leaves on The old Maple tree,…
By: Adreyo Sen Till yesterday, I was glass. No one rubbed their hands against the dusty windowpane through which I looked out the world, seeing the brightest colors grey. How I shrank from it all. I was always cold. Little by…
By: Priya Anand The cup slips off the table And shatters into pieces As if done with its duty of Containment and measure It strikes the floor with a resounding crack As if to proclaim its demise to all present…
By: Priya Anand Silence stumbles through the ruins Crumbled walls no barrier Moths with latticed wings with A short life span spent traversing Ivory tiles now shards with fungal edges A mottled tail suggests dangers foretold Disappears beneath the forest…
By: Geosi Gyasi You’re the first I ever kissed Your milky lips flows without pause You’re the first who taught me how to suck the juices from your nipples You’re the first I put to test: by calling you “love”…
By: Geosi Gyasi (To A Wife To Be) The dream is almost vivid mid-night dream in a bed of water guess which present you represent? The clue to my dream is in your dream On this day I cease to…
By: Allison Grayhurst of mute despair where love is murdered by a flying breath, and old age is a house that never opens, the key was around your neck and suddenly, you were gone. Paint bubbles over into the killing flame….
By: Allison Grayhurst Speak to me in the pestilence of my afternoon, in the dungeon of my self-pity. Speak to me though love has stopped its singing and the arrows of wintry worries sting my weary drum. Speak to me to…
By: Allison Grayhurst the thinning years of a lifespan roped by bitter nightfall the volt of mourning that mourns the range of ambition to success the blind rodent that frees itself of self-preservation the hard days of unknowing that last beyond…