By: April Mae M. Berza witnessing the fall of sakuras is waiting for love to go beyond love love is but a distance, from the tree, the flowers plunge into the abyss like my heart into yours the pink petals, one by…
By: Raul G. Moldez Above me, the sun. Beneath me, the trees. Birds give way to me as I savor the wind. Here, hot and cold mix. The atmosphere is lukewarm. My shirt is cellophane. I feel sweltering here. I’m a…
By: Raul G. Moldez We climb up trees, towers or buildings and crawl on earth, floors or surfaces looking for food. We stockpile them in preparation for the rainy season. We are small creatures nameless, unknown. All we know is to…
By: Anthony J. Langford Streaming slates of light Room encrusted gold Music soars, billowing Even in silence Possibilities in motion There’s a feeling Stronger than love Not from within But externalized Expanding to the horizon And beyond. Life is never…
By: Anthony J. Langford Take a look around Close quarters In rounded wholes This is the life you’ve created A home Where you reside At least physically With another. Once joyous Where empty rooms Were common As it was always…
By: Anthony J. Langford Large house Small space kept regularly Remove sleeping As percent time In one apartment sized Tripping over faces Foot in mouth Six people Laughing, yelling Driving each other crazy One inch at a time As though…
By: Anthony J. Langford Online Too easy to dismiss Ignore Or misplace Turn the cheek Without eyeing the face. It’s not that the intent is bad Or the words cliché But that there’s so much more That precedes it. A…
By: Sai Diwan “The poet has become a lost voice on the horizon, a cultural presence and prophetic voice we imagine still exists, but is not really near at hand.” Many have found respite in poetry. Lyrics have indulged, sonnets…
By: Amal Lucerne blare blare blare please shift gear, beams misplaced stage lights jamming illicit slicked back jaundice hey, i’ll call you, mantra
By: Amal Lucerne Georgia has no visions of lighthouse battles in May or of damp mongols crooning underneath a swarm of moonlight wraiths laughing beyond the chair-snaps consumptive and withering Georgia has no illusions of a hurried walk untaken or adamance…