By: KJ Hannah Greenberg To Gank In international forums, “thievery’s” not defined by lovely scapes or glistening gels.“Honesty’s” separated from “fraudulence” by reticulating deeds and feckless words.Agonal breathing’s never evidenced lagabouts, idlers, shiftless souls as “worthless.”At times, folks may be…
By: John Ziegler Luther Luther was a distant father,away in his own deep music. He spoke of his own fatherfitted in a soft, white shirt, trimmed nails,smooth palms of a baker,though he was not a baker. He owned a small…
By: Puneet Kumar My Tongue My tongue hasIts own mindIt knows wellWhere it wants to go I need not to worryIn which cornerOr in the sidesIt wants to explore I just let it doAll that it wantsAnd the way it…
By: Paweł Markiewicz The new-Celtic elegy according to Mr. Paweł Markiewicz I lost the cute hedgehog in last summer.I can just only dream overnight – mourn.The amaranthine body lay on grass.Moreover, it was dark time of Blue Hours. My life…
By: Kindaka Sanders Tried Again I was just thinking about joy.And you were right.Because he gave it to you, I thinkHe is a better man for you than me.That you were scared of losing him,And you never felt that way…
By: Leigh-Anne Burley A Weary Waiter Pushes Her Body Forward A weary single-parent waiterpushes her body forwardlike a cart laden withtable linens and wares. She tip-toes on a high wirewithout a safety net tobalance bills and schedules. Impatient diners with…
By: Margot Block Untitleda language you use like a candle litwhen it was to deliver emotion night after nightyour defeated china girl and your momentand electrified means nothing to mewhen it is an explosion in the heart of whisperswhere the…
By: John P. Drudge We wanderSeeking our placeEach fleeting momentOn the precipice of the unknownDriven by curiosityAnd the collective spiritIn a cosmic danceEchoing footstepsThrough corridors of timeWith dreams of unityAnd discoveryThrough uncharted realmsOf knowledgeForever tetheredTo the beating heartOf a shared…
By: Karen O’Leary She ponders,holding a black crayon—assigned to capture naturewith the given medium. She catches the dean after class,holding up the black crayon.How does one capturenature with just one hue? Ms. Hawthorn,you have the insightof an artist. Don’t beafraid…
By: Bruce Levine The Storm Rain spattered on the window paneMaking patterns like geometric drawingsBefore the droplets released their molecular holdForming abstract lines like a Pollack painting Flashes of lightning illuminated the maze of waterHeld against the glass as if…