By: Michael Gigandet No one agreed if the dog apprehended his destruction or if he “never seen it comin’” like old man Forrest said. The old man had the best view from his bench outside the courthouse where he spent…

By: Paarmita Vedi Grandma and the Memories of Octobers A dense foliage of five auburn OctobersSpecked with dirty honey-brown nuts.On and Within.Daadi picks them up in her straw basket.Her soft dimpled feet kiss the lush crimson leaves.Leaves in sinful scarlet…

By: Cailey Tarriane His devious little body could be swept away by the ocean like a cat playing with a mouse. My brother’s feet would try to push deep in the sand, Mother and Father grabbing his skinny, numb-with-cold arms….

By: Haleema Dalhat I want to marry a poetTo be seduced by his penTo cuddle in the ocean of his inkA romantic life well imaginedLife forever with a poet I want to marry a poetWho can turn my sadness to…

By: Tabassum Tahmina Shagufta Hussein Spirit Oh my loveWith your love free my body and soulFrom Fetters.In your festival lights of loveOf this universe,I am a mere earthen lamp.Oh love,Add to it in the flame.The sparkling eternal flame of you…

By: Raj Ratan Mala Chrysanthemums On Her Grave Spine made up of porcelain tucked under a corset dressLipstick overlined for a DIY smile – a womanly drug to cure distress,“Tuck a chrysanthemum behind your ears, that’s the king’s favourite”Her nectar…

By: Noel Burra Nature’s Touch I am waiting. Longing. Yearning. For the rain to wet the cracks rippled along my dry lips.The breeze to sweep the hair brushing against my olive eyes. The sun to ripen the skin on my…

By: Tan Bo Yan   When the door first flung open, I was greeted by the most welcoming sight. Glittering pearls floated through the hallways, the smell of fresh poppies filled the air, and just a mile ahead, a dazzling…

By: Stephen Kingsnorth Genes With Pops, my grandmother made this,a pattern, poppies, spreading wild,our family, a tribe of aunts,count cousins, crawling, climbing trees,and siblings, toddlers up to teensa tapestry of what could bewith grief and loss or potency. Needle points…

By: Harvey Huddleston At ten steps – fifteen maybe – Father Ivan turned back but the barrack was already gone.  Snow blasted east and west and north and south and up and down and back and forth, erasing everything beyond…