By: Aruna Subramanian “Wake up Sweety! You don’t want to be late for school, do you?” her mother called out from downstairs. Alia was awake but didn’t get up from the bed. She was looking at the ceiling and wondering…

By: Malik Nasla “You were in a crash. Can you tell me your name?” “What’s happening? Who are you?” “Calm down you are fine I just need to know your name” “Emma” “You were riding your bike and lost control…

By Harrison Abbott Ron still thinks about her often in dreams. If indeed thought can be pure within the magical arena of dreamland. It is only when asleep then that a full grief for her can be felt. She plagues…

By: Stephen Kingsnorth  Ilkley Crags Far from south western sibling torsthese stubby crags emerge from peat,amongst scrag season’s heather, gorse;but mother loved these Yorkshire moorsso different from her Exmoor stags.Yarn Dunster lass, strode tussocks, tufts,the billowed gale, church choir let…

By: Anindita Sarkar Runaway Peacock Like caged birds who shun flightI was oblivious to the wild,until the blue hills beaconed.Through telepathic podcastssanctioned by the rainI confessed to my loverabout my expatriate state.A mob of misfitstheir throats aflame with litany of…

By: Cynthia Pitman “When shall we three meet again?  In thunder, lightning, or in rain?”“When the hurly-burly’s done,When the battle’s lost and won.”                                                                        – Witches, Macbeth, by William Shakespeare i. Conflict             “Conflict: Two forces working against one another.” But that’s…

By: Aneek Chatterjee Hide & Seek I play hide & seekwith you, myself.SometimesI do murmur lost songs, favoritepoems, surreal images & when I wake up& land in my swanky office,a surreal painting adornsthe wooden wallI’ve kept a few books of…

By Ajay R. Sawant YOU ARE THE PAINTER OF THE WORLD you are the morning mista stargazer on dayyou ask me to walk on the sidewalk—and walk with me too you are the eternal lier —the hope bearer of allthe…

By Ida Prose OBSERVER Seeing through the foggy lens, a glimpseof the world, formerly unnoticedBarren branches and tall trees stoodCuriously puzzled,No one ventured out anymore, no oneglided through the bushesWho then saw the tree and branches?Yet the branches blushed,Being observed…

By: Bishnu Pokhrel THE MISSING LINK I am that linkand I am missing.I am that which youcrave and seek activelyyet you don’t recognize meI am that missing link in you. You have searchedsearched me in everythingsought me everywhereyet you chose…