By: Alan Berger Do you rememberWhat day we met?What time it was?That my shirt was redYou laughedAt everythingThat I said What we drankAnd how manyThe waiter’s name too? I know you don’tBut I do I don’t rememberThe promises to you…

By: Radomir Vojtech Luza American Original I was born out of Hitler’s bloody diseaseStalin’s scarred and shredded knees Raised in the Deep SouthWhere African AmericansHang from treesLike gray moss Schooled in the finest Catholic institutionsOf higher learning where hypocrisyWas the…

By: April Mae M. Berza Percy Lapid is the Phoenix Rising from the Ashes We can because we believeWe believe because we canStill, we rise above the challenges. We dream it until we make it a realityWe make it a…

By: April Mae M. Berza Dale As I Dream of the Stars at Night I’ve seen you before in one of my dreams,gratitude embraced you and the universe of versesconspired to make you a reality, you smiledat me, and I…

By: Christopher Collingwood The Feeling Returned The feeling returnedwith the season –the strand of yoursweater, caught beneaththe wing of a bird, unravellinga forgotten desire, a momentreturned by the flock,instinct carried beyondour misgivings. Knowing nature –I saw the uneasinessin their wild…

By: Chase Reed A tree on a hillSits tall and strong.But the tree doesn’t feelThis is where it belongs. One gust of windBends the tree east and west.North and south once again,It sways more than the rest. “My roots cannot…

By: E. Martin Pedersen The Toxic Wha That guy, that guy, that slapped mein high school, I’ll neverforgive him, that guy’s toxicI won’t sit with him at the50th class reunion, we werein P.E. playing soccer for thefirst time — it…

By: Charlie Dickinson Clamping cellphone to his fleshy ear, he glowered at the backyard, waiting on the rings.             “911, do you need police, fire or ambulance?”             “What can you send? Hurry, I gotta dead body here.”             “Okay,…

By Karen Lee Stradford Gray Hair They stick out.Silver streamers growall over my crown.Pepper my temples,peeking throughin the light. People notice my locks,and comment on the look,suggest hair dyeto cover them up. I embrace my gray.A sign of maturity,distinction.Comb themdown,but…

By: Richard LeDue Another Closed Door Midnight The darkness always returns,even if we bury ourselves under blanketswith a thread count we bragged aboutwhile no one listened, as memoriesof naked 1 AM (when time didn’t matter)flutter like moths looking for a…