By: J. B. Fite The Call Who calls to me in the morningAnd bids me then rise and followJust as the new day is dawning?Sloth-I would answer “Tomorrow”And sleep through the hours passingWith a hundred dreams all hollow. I do…
By: Puneet Kumar It is Summer It is summerThe sun is roughI am on the streetFull of sweat I am thirstyI need waterI can’t find it hereI can’t bear it any longer I see an ice-cream parlorIt is not far…
By: Karen O’Leary I rest in tranquility,Meshed in peace.My heart embracesExternal paradise.Robins and bluebirds’Songs serenade me,Each slow step,Dancing with grace. Images, unspoiledNestle in harmony, Within my heart,Its refreshmentLonging to keepDancing instead…Life keeps meIntrenched inForever demands,Ever noisy cubes.
By: Jim Bates Summertime gardenFlowers so bright and cheerfulRefreshing the soul. Early morning dewDelightful Dancing DropletsSparkling in the sun. Dragonflies dartingThrough lush gardens reflectingSunset’s fading light. Deep blue turquoise skyBig white puffy clouds floatingSoothingly serene. Garden in full bloomBright scented…
By: Srinaath Perangur Incarceration I have known who they aresince I was littleI’ve seen himlike this. Reading theEconomist. Hidden in his bag:littlebottles of vodka. Willfulit is a different kind of forgetting altogether.I search for himThree quarters of a blueberry muffin…
By: Rachel Chitofu Because in the past, you fell in love with the wrong woman,when I show you the scar of my heart’s sparked love for you,you mistake its burning intensity for infidelity or insult.Its redness resembles a moon’s incongruous…
By: Brian Michael Barbeito it was a long day. sometimes the rains arrived out of nowhere and other times the impossibly hot sun that also blinded us. I was sitting beside the tarot reader at a fair. heck, i thought,…
By: Michael Craig Debby No diamond in the rough.This woman so exquisitely cut.Set within her, a heart of gold.One that tarnish shall never dull.A beauty so very desired,even artists are inspired.So stunning, an impact,never before seen or heard.When painted on…
By: Jacob Keating Eggs Under soft sun you make eggs in the morning.It’s distressing me how little you look at the pan.Wrapped up in amber, and tangents about something or other. Perched on the kitchen counter, spatula as a microphone,You…
By: Leena Adhvaryu A doorisaboundary.Itcanbeclosed;itshuts off.Butitcanbeanentrancetoo,athresholdtocross,a pathtobegin,towalk togetheroralone.