By: Natana Vasuki Faces! Faces! Pervasive in the world Feed my sight every day Gentle like frolicking lambs Invite attention with their sweet innocence Ferocious like majestic tigers Ready to threaten with their powerful symmetry Jaunty, amiable and ebullient Serve…
By: James G. Piatt There are images within my weary mind, Like the tide rising from the cobalt deep, Illuminating tenacious absurdities that I find, Stirring in deep nomadic longings, as I sleep. …..How do I gain an entrée to a…
By: James G. Piatt He is a divided self, Divergent egos with flights Into memories without maps, Detached, intoxicated with his Own importance: He is at war with himself, In a metaphysical battle Against unfathomable enigmas, He exists between reality and…
By: James G. Piatt I devour the rocks that lie Beneath my wandering feet,The bushes with red flowersThat line the hungry brook,Then I digest nouns, verbs andPrepositions that paint the Landscape with edible poems. I listen to the grumbling earth, the…
By: Kousik Adhikari Simply you have to mount a taxi That knows the history and geography of roads And fall on Southern Avenue, You will not fall. May I promise? Simply you have to tap the door That gets rusted waiting…
By: Danny P. Barbare Sitting in the lounge chair by the fire place watching the World Series on a cold October night eating a pumpkin cookie and sipping on sweet apple cider.
By: Danny P. Barbare Cleaning the bathroom it’s not a flowery chore so womanly or pretty just ask the shiny tile once covered with mildew or the polished fixtures once covered with scum.
By: Kuzhoor Wilson Translated by : Anitha Varma The forgotten umbrella Fretted Did he get wet? Cry because it was missing? Would his mother have given him a beating? Benches and desks Are cozing The board still retains The day’s remnants Night…
By: Divya Rosaline I do not have the money to travel But I have traveled far and wide I’ve traveled the songs of dark – eyed women With strange men by their side And I have traveled my country’s pain That…
By: Divya Rosaline My past is fractured with memories of you Some injuries, they say, don’t heal. And while I’m one for pragmatisms I’m entangled in those Minutes Seconds Hours and Days When our orbits used to be the same. Not…