By: Carl Papa Palmer Not a party line like the wild winding party line of congas dancing one-two-three-kick across-the-floor and out- the-doornor a party line like the Democrat or Republican political party line voting along their party line,but a type…

By- Medha Godbole Singh I walk and walkTill my muscles screamMy tendons tear apartI walk and walkTill my thoughtsCompletely consume meMy mind running amuckI walk and walk tillMy breath gives wayAnd everything around me goes numbI walk and walkTill the…

By: Ed Nichols My neighbor, Smitty, came over to my house the otherafternoon. We were sitting in the living room talking. Aboutthe world situation and so on. The talk finally got around tothe problems everyone in town were having with…

By: Professor M.S. Rao “If you have anything really valuable to contribute to the world it will come through the expression of your own personality, that single spark of divinity that sets you off and makes you different from every…

By: Thomas Meagher The Ballad of Sharon and Mark Sharon Murphy hoards pencils and writes invented wordsThen hides them under desks attached to gum and oozing secretionsLike sap from the beech tree outside the school grounds And Mark Flanagan with…

By: Roger G. Singer FIRST BREATH it was a placelong past the roadof shredded ribbonsand baskets of tears it was an openingwith a first breathunder a night skywith a suddensliver of moonexposing recklesswingswhere no onejudged saintsor sinners since todaystarts againtomorrow…

By: Elaine Lennon He drove until he ran out of road. It had taken almost twenty-four hours. He only stopped for gas. Twice.  Now he was here. The tip of the peninsula was fringed with dried out palms and jacarandas….

By: Jim Bates Immense starry skySense of celestial onenessCosmic harmony.

By: Dennis Vannatta When Rotary International held its annual meeting in Edinburgh, several members of the Rockaway Park chapter attended, all but Jeffrey Ward and Devin O’Day staying in one of the three big hotels virtually taken over for the…

By: Linda McMullen             In the final three years of our marriage, John argued exhaustively with the anonymous denizens of AITA Reddit.  “Goodnight, Tommy!” he’d call upstairs to our son, his keyboard clacking without pause.  So, last night – Thursday…