By: Gaither Stewart Someone was playing the piano in the far room. High laughter and shouts and shrieks sounded from the corridor. Near him there was a generalized swishing of expensive silks to the sound of cocktail chatter. Over the…

By: Anca Mihaela Bruma Each of your Emotion, tears the Time’s tactile sense!… Inside this bi-polar Existence… With unspoken words, floating within spaces… Each of your Emotion, Has a different season!… But I found a Place, to raise the Punctuation… where…

By: Anca Mihaela Bruma A woman can be a variety of archetypes from the embodiment of compassion and mercy, to the personification of wisdom and cold analysis. In these modern times, women need to feel empowered, and not defined by their…

By: Joan McNerney Slides under door jambs pouring through windows painting my room black. This evening was spent watching old movies. Song and dance actors looping through gay, improbable plots. All my plates are put away, cups hanging on hooks….

By: Joan McNerney  I want to make scarves from the sky. Since I’m not much of a seamstress, here’s hoping it won’t be too hard. To start I’ll just pick up a fleecy white cloud to cover my neck. Maybe create…

By: Gaither Stewart Wearing a beige suede jacket and a blue beret low over his right ear, James Frederick Dellinger stepped out onto his porch and looked around uncertainly at the new day. Clamping his aged leather satchel under his…

By: Debraj Bhattacharya At the National Library there are usually three types of readers. The students from the University campus as well as from other parts of the city and the research scholars coming from different parts of the world form…

By: Neelam Singh The night falls Upon my deprived grief-stricken soul Every soul retires for the night, my pretense of rest still lies abound Turmoil of emotions swells up like waves What to do, what will I see next? Lay…

By: Helen Gavoe Red pods hanging from the rafters. When they finally bloom, Will they fill the room with crimson perfume, Salmon lining exposed like a spreading vulva, Blood red freckles trailing down from the scarlet core? Vermillion stigma awaiting…

By: Helen Gavoe Moonbeam path beckons, offering the illusion of walking on water into infinity. Ripple waves caress the sands at my feet bouncing moonbeams to blind my eyes and they appear. They call to me from the edge of…