By: Bamgbose Gabriel In perfect peace She sleeps after being Coaxed with tender palms And lulled with soothing rhymes… …..The peace of a child She smiles from her dream Exposing her toothless Alveolar ridge, turning Several times to find A…
By: Bamgbose Gabriel The trees dance As the heavy wind whistles Like an umpire in the green field Opening the long-awaited march It’s about to rain The hackles of the firmament Has risen, risen and ready To vent their anger…
punctured in love repaired in grief i‘ve dreams still left i know in brief i search for peace but not in leisure hard work is my duty that’s my only pleasure love was an ordeal it’s now a memory passions exist no…
Once upon a timeI plundered eggsfrom a rickety khokhain my villagenestled in the hillsand ran into the corn fieldsthough chased by houndsand a gaunt owner. Hardly had I tastedthe albumin andchewed the yolkwhen a bolt of metalincapacitated meflattened meamid the…
Your sulky countenance, once source of infinite affection, now drives me angry impatient indifferent and repulsive. That feeling of innocent tussle which brought us closer each day has walked out unnoticed untold. The sunlit fields irrigated by our sweat replenishing…
By: Morgan O’Connor At sun up she escaped by cab. I miss her as much as the time before I knew the taste of perfect bread, spice of exquisite soup. souls proudly inter-floundering, curl of a pounding wave. our searches are…
It is usually our anticipation from any book that it will entertain us, take us on an exotic ride where varied emotions of life—surprise, love, desire, hatred, happiness, etc—can clash together and become alive through unheard anecdotes, tales, stories and…
By: Robert S. King Among clouds of attacking crows he spots the white bird and fires. That will put it out of its misery, he says. The bird dog waits below, pointing downward as the dove falls. The blue-collared dog…
By: Richard D. Hartwell Not for the first time, Perhaps for the last, I note this is no monologue, Rather a continuing, one-sided dialogue. You, Sitting there embalmed On your judgmental stool. You, Calling yourself a person of discourse Are…
By: Richard D. Hartwell Suffer anguish of memory, family close as sticky-rice, grain to grain, gene to gene, coagulated and congealed. Cannot un-remember psychological molestation, brutality of hidden scars, rage of emotional rape. Dark memories filled with white lies, spoiled…