By: Walter William Safar Me and the eastern wind, surrounded by a wall of honorable antiquity, walk together influenced by our common destiny, and shadows hide across crosses, and drag along cemeteries like the quietest and saddest funeral procession. Next…
By: Gale Acuff Miss Hooker says I’m going to go to Hell if I don’t stop sinning but I don’t give a damn is what I told her although I really said darn and that was bad enough, I thought I’d…
By: Kousik Adhikari With that knitted scarf In your hand, you seemed a pakka sahari babu, You sometime call, ‘Dukhia, bring me a cup of tea’, I know, you like the raw with bits of ginger, Churned those delicate taste out,…
By: Ikwuagwu Osita Victor In the beginning was the word, Now are these words-WEEP NOT. Men know themselves when not ripe, And you come. And they deposit you in a bin. ….…..Weep not………. Nations love war; War hate…
By: Paris Hughes I dodged mirrors after the surgery, Would even wrinkle my eyelids in a tight Squeeze near glass, not ready to view The twisted limb, to know why the pinched Nerves pushed out cries and curses in darkness. Months…
By: Adesina Idris My death is near It is sure and certain That out of this bed I shall not get! But A lot I have to say Yet I say so little! The world I met In peace But…
By: Adesina Idris D. Its innocence Undisturbed Unpertubed By the turbulence Around it! A child’s innocence! Peaceful is its sleep Smiles on its lips Troubles escaping it Oblivious of the upheavals Roaming in the adult world! A child’s innocence! Soon!…
By: Somrita Urni Ganguly And everytime I heard that song, I could see you next to me, hear your voice, feel your breath, sense your whispering passion. And so I stopped listening to that song; stopped looking for your smell in…
By: Somrita Urni Ganguly (You’ve read the Laila-Majnu story, have you not? This one is slightly different. The poet wrote it after Majnu was lost to her.) Laila uttered Qais’s name like a prayer every night – his face was the blood…
By: Fredrik Zander Estranged by adorers, Scattered in the absent wind; This vacuum is a bird of prey. Too late for the news of the world; Too soon for the fascination Strangers bring to light. “Could there be tomorrow”, I…