By: Christiane Demack Clean thrill, rising, again Spilled coffee, plastic cup White paper, ink – as The red roofs drop Into a warm picture Of Home. That comforting voice, Soothing, the voice of Arrivals & Departures, & Pleasant stays, High Over…

By: Christiane Demack Can you see the joys of the mountain-tops, The grandmother’s silver in your golden hair? Can you feel his arms around you, can you smell The fire of the camp-site, and feel The sheer power of the wolves?…

By: Neelam Dadhwal I looked out of the container a refreshing life, as if cells could soak oxygen. Tripled on its contents on way with friends and half down the valley we lay wreath on our expedition. Half of truths, being…

By: Shobhana Kumar suddenly, i remember faces only alive in fading photographs. today, it is the benevolent face of a grand uncle, whose freshly Cinthol-soaped face and silver white stubbles always held a smile for me. he, who i haven’t bothered…

By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey Looks of love lurk in the shades Of frozen cuddle Hiding forms of elegance Stealing aroma of bodily blossoms Eyes float in skin’s supple waves Rippling, rolling and beating. The rapturous whispers of passion Run through…

By: A.J. Huffman I walk the tidal line on tired feet, forced forward, mostly by determination. The sand in my toes lends encouragement with gentle tickle of coolness. Another mile falls behind me. My breath begins to strain. The wind responds,…

By: A.J. Huffman black dress, timeless necessity. I am standard, issued as staple, dependable go-to. An easy decision, I am appropriate accessory for every occasion. ***** [A.J. Huffman has published six solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses….

By: Patrick P. Stafford Something there is that holds the anxious heart in check, That offers only to the eyes the total essence of you, Shows in the hair and face, in the lovely curve of neck, How much I yearn…

By: Patrick P. Stafford I know it’s time to go to sleep. I know it’s time to shut out light. And now because all hope is gone, I know it’s time to say goodnight. Winter has filled this empty room, Though…

By: Patrick P. Stafford There we stood years ago, upon our emerald beach, With pure love between us, and pure happiness within reach. Years ago when you held my heart in the palm of your hand, And I would caress your…