By: Yucheng Tao Where cold windcuts throughthe swaying treesbeneath black cloudsfloribundagrandifloraminiature roses bloomall over the garden—but the rose i seek is not herehummingbirdsrest in beams of lightbut i only want to hear god’s whisper after i was cast out i…

By: Azmat Ali The Ramayana—one of the two great epic poems of Hinduism—has been central to South Asian literary, religious, and cultural traditions for over two millennia. Originally composed in Sanskrit and dated to before 300 BCE, the Ramayana is…

By: Harrison Abbott A snowstorm came. Snowfall that broke records. And then the government closed the schools. Great. That’s exactly what Robbie, Joel and I wanted. We didn’t have to go to school!  With our free time, we decided to…

By: Vincent Maranto On the old stage road between Bozeman and Helena, Montana, as it crosses the Crow Creek Divide, there lies a small, square fence enclosing a grass-covered mound. The surrounding country is rugged, like much of the mountainous…

By: Deen Sayeedin Sense of suspensionSet out of subversionSuperfluous and scrumptious. Sacred senseStated behind the sunsetProfane sensePeers over the sunriseAmid an overflow of ultraviolet raysStimulate unholy atmospheresIntensifying suffocation and shrouding the sacred one. ### Deen Sayeedin is a student of…

(It is a chapter from Barbara’s yet-to-be-published memoir, “First You Grieve.”) By: Barbara Chiarello “Writing is like drawing poison out of your body, saving your own life — or the life of someone else.” — Donna Freitas Not Alone When…

By: Bruce Levine Standing atop a stairwayFive flights up Figurative images Revealing nothing A dearth of language Parsimoniously sifting Like flour through a strainer Paradoxical entries Oxymorons Fugitive from reality Breathing life into cadavers Frankenstein’s monster Awakened Yet not alive…

By: Bruce Levine Do you know what I like about Being old?Senior Discounts! I love to walk Into the grocery store On Wednesdays And say: YAY! – Old People’s Day!And get 5% senior discounts

By:  James Aitchison Love binds when anger does not.Fear is the flame that consumesthe lightness in the human soul.Like walking on cloud,the wise man leaves no prints.He passes by unscathed.Shadows retreat from his path.Reality he embraces,shielded from weakness.He knows eternal…

By James Aitchison Can elderly fingers, wrinkled, with pronounced knuckles, still tap out books that are relevant to readers, coherent in language and plot, and worthy to be published? It seems they can.  While ageism confronts most in the workplace,…