By: Faisal Khan Trust the Rain In the heart of the desert,fairy shrimp mate, lay their eggs, and bury them in the sand.The act is brief—mere days.The adults do not survive,but the eggs remain.Waiting in silence. Waiting in faith.Sometimes for…
By: Suman Mondal There’s a quiet peace in melancholy,lying on a warm, water-soaked pillow,whooping silently, a fragile halo on face.The Moon is so dear today! Stay away! The night is ephemeral.Where is life? Weak bones coveredby the agonies of experience…
By Douglas J. Lanzo Painted Beauty Cruelly Ensnared In memory of the scores of endangered painted dogswho have succumbed to illegal poacher snaresin the African savannah She is free and lithe,and full of life,playing between forays;on savannah richwith wildlife,colored by…
By: Carl Papa Palmer she won’t read firstor lastor read after this poetor before that one informs our hostesswhere to list hermost often number four when called to readacts surprisedgathers her paperstakes her timeto the podium at the podiumsorts through…
By: Cynthia Pitman The Cloud and the North Wind Propelled by the north wind,a cloud rolls in,crowding the blue sky.She is arrayed in virginal white –glossy Chinese satin and silk,trailing a train of Spanish lace –,all white, but for an…
By: Andrea Myinga. WINGS OF THE SUN The wings of the sun, so cool,Stretching from its corner, dawning. Stepping one step at a time, majestic,Moving, reaching the centre, so hot. One time clouds cover, sky veiled,Deceiving none, they are there….
By: Carl “Papa” Palmer Clocks leapt forward urging us to step forwardfrom daily gray days of endless days upon daysunder dark, dank, drooping fir trees dripping upon dormant shrubs, slumber slumped bushes,potted plants playing dead, barren bedding beds,all reset to…
By: Bruce Levine StriationsGradationsFilling the atmosphereIn stillness PinkMixed withWhite and grayTo almost holiness Fallacy of fateLanguishThe unknowingWith helplessness Testing the tidePressing forwardThrough fearOf loneliness Watching the idleWither without them knowingThrough vacantWastefulness As the nouveau richeLuxuriateIn ostentatiousLavishness And society’sDouble meaningThe self-inflicted…
By: Frances Leitch Spring In The Air In thinkingof that warm breezeFelt after burrowing throughthe long, white winterIn thinkingof delight and easeA smile crossedthe rutted roadAnd time stoppedHeld me thereIn a moment’s joySpring in the air Wildflowers The flowers that…
By: Harrison Cashmere The Red Dust of April You arrive like a held breath against the Zabarwan,row upon row of silk cups catching the mountain sun.But spring in the valley is a thief;you offer your throat to the breeze,knowing the…