By: Jim Bates The old man sat staring out the window of his apartment. The mask mandate had been lifted and people were flocking into the city’s streets to celebrate, some even dancing. He thought about his dear wife, lost…

By: Giulia Imperioli The reason why we read literature, read nonfiction, read poetry, and absorb the lyrics of songs is connection and seeking of higher meaning/understanding. Reading and consuming art is purely a social act – we hold a magnifying…

By: Bakhtiar Ahmed Ocean of Pain I am floating in the vast oceanof pain, the ocean so beautifulso placid, so dark, so infiniteevery cell in my bodygetting personal attentiontortured individually, torture, somethodological so thorough, not evenone cell, not even one…

By: Patrick Tong after K-Ming Chang & Topaz Winters Let us, my father reminds me in our bedroom / kitchen /lobby. Let us forcep the facts, a forensic of friends,first-timers, and foes. Let us brief over the bygone. Once,for some…

One Courageous Translator Kept Readers in the Soviet Union Waiting Years to Find out By Rex Bowman Anyone old enough to remember the Soviet Union, or anyone who’s studied the history of that mercifully defunct nation, knows that one of…

By: Alex Andy Phuong A personal caseThat includes aBrief momentIn enigmatic time.Dealing effectivelyWith the sublime.Time does pass byBy and by,Yet the ones whoActually do tryTake the initiative,And move through actionThat could causeReactionsRather thanNegative repercussions,And choose to helpWhile refusingIdleness

By: Dr. Gulshan Ara (Unarmed George was killed by a white police officer in Minnasota, USA, on May 25, 2020;This poem is dedicated to “George Floyd”) O, George, you are the voice of eternityThe voice of imprisoned soulsWhispering incessantly, longing…

By: George Freek THE IMPONDERABLES (After Mei Yao Chen) In this mountain hideaway,the sun shines invitingly.A calm breeze hardlystirs the river’s water.Drunk, I stand in my doorway.I hear the cry of an unknown bird,and watch young squirrels runin their mindless…

By: DS Maolalai Black pool something sickly stumblesand shambles from the sea,splasheslike black pools,rippledthrough black water. somethingwhich grows wartsand lank grey feathers,clucks and callsitself Dublin (dubh linn)and spreads itself outsouthward to Brayand brays up Louthand soundly,spins out houseslike fish on…

By: Amrita Valan The Day (The Music Died?) An adult year crampsEasily intoOne childish day. Between each sunriseAnd sunsetA lifetime garners,entropy from ennui. BoredomCreative idleness,Childhood’s idyllicParadiseEnters the mazeThe buzzkillThe monotonous daily grindPeels the tender rindsOf sanity.Orange is the new blackTo…