By: Tom Ball      There were many disruptions to normal life from the wars. I ended up cast out from my village and found myself in a primordial setting; it was just me and the girl in an orange grove….

By: Vanaja Malathy One step out…an expanse of snowas if some naughty kids tilted barrels of white paint from aboveall vegetation came under its coatblank silence everywherechirpy birds, light-footed squirrels, voracious caterpillars…gone busy celebrating elsewhere?life seemed dull and blank Yet…

By: James Dickman Call me the Pirate Queen. Call me a rebel. And rightly so. It’s my clan’s trust that I carry, dear. Is it not my duty to protect our ancestral lands, enforce fishing tariffs, and to seek prosperous…

By: Ethan Goffman A Novel So Great It Cannot Be Named Well over a century ago, a great novel was born.  It had a powerful title, too powerful, at this point in history, to name.  The title had been ordinary…

By: Shontay Luna Afar Did you glance upon me,my most sweet love?Adoring you from afar,heart laden withtorturous longing.The distance apartno matchfor the desire myheart holds;how a mere glanceupon you brings mesuch joy. And yet I knowyou’ve never seen me.But that’s…

By: Mahathi SEASONSI stepped on crackling Autumn leaves wriggling on ground.I sighed and slowly walked towards a naked treeAnd whispered low. “Not long these days. You’ll see aroundFresh leaves on twigs. You’ll see a dancing honey beeRotating round your buds…

By: Amal El-Sayed 243 stuffed toysRide the yellow school buses in Rynok Square.An excursion of ghosts. 109 empty strollersLine up the cobbled streets of Lviv.A graveyard of children. 2 stuffed teddy bearsSleep in a baby carrier.A remnant of joy. 1…

By: Muhammad Nasrullah Khan Dear First World, Salute to youAccept humble bow, from the Third World.Thank you for the great lectures for fucking idiots.Heads hung low, wide-eyed,we clapped. You sold us your notion of humanity,we lived in a barbaric world.You…

By: Esha Sury WHAT ELSE CAN I SAY? This bone-tiredness to speak ended aspure reprieve. I dispose of my last penand a surrendered dove, as remittance, gaveits’ awareness to me in a dawn of non-talk.I wish plainly to cradle wordless…

By: Pramod Rastogi In Quest of You Since Long Time has lost its rhythm for me.Alternating in cycles the days and nightsAnnounce neither the whispering dawnsNor denounce the hush of twilight woes. Leaving time and space to sleep and yawn,I…