By Taylor Dibbert Nothing breaksA marriageQuite likeA midlife crisis. ### Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fourth full-length poetry collection, was published in May.
By: Duane L Herrmann ODE TO ERN MALLEY Do an “Ern Malley”as the pranksters did:assume a male persona,pretend to be a poet,make up new versein strange new ways,and shock the otherswho thought they knewwhat a poem was.Open doors which morefollowed,…
By: Ranjit K Sahu A killer summer Causality of an unsolicited relationshipMy heart wanders around the dusky huesThe summer sky grapples with cloudsComprehending what’s false and what’s true Wishes metamorphose into murmurationsChanging their shape and intensityAnd in those abstractions sketch…
By: James Aitchison When all is calm,when every ripple is smoothed,when every doubt dispelled,the four corners of the worldare yours.None shall limit your horizons,none shall steal your wisdom,none shall thwart you.Old whispers are no longer heard,and your breath is eternal.When…
By: Jim Bates Big white moon glowingShining bright across the skyLighting up the night. Crisp late summer nightThey snuggle warm under quiltsMoonlight bright with love. Old-time country roadSwirling dust clouds rise and settleIn a timeless way. Gentle dawn sunlightFlowers glowing…
By: Emmanuel Papa Quansah When you see tons of placardsflying without flairWhen you see hundreds of fistsvertically punching the airWhen you hear millions of hungry voicesshoutingWhen you see thousands of jobless feetstamping the streetWhen you see our teenagers and adultsslapping…
By: Debbie Tunstall 1) Love in the fast lane You worked at the ‘ used car ‘ dealershipwhen you sold me your love, discounted to half the price-And I bought it. After a quick test drive, and a signature on…
By Reese Scott I don’t remember the exact sayingFor every year you are with someone it will take six months to get over them and move onMe and my girlfriend were together for three yearsSo, I have to wait over…
By: Sathya Narayana I know him for the past thirty years;a door-to-door flower vendor;short, lean, dark with gullible staresand a basket around his shoulders. ‘How much do you earn? ‘ once I askedway back in the eighties, if I’m right.‘Enough…
By: Irma Kurti To awaken a forgotten love The voice of my memories called meto awaken an almost forgotten love;to feel the beat of my heart againin the city where we found each other. Something hits my chest like a…