By: Achingliu Kamei Pristine beauty, they sayBut where do you begin to write? In the Land where oil flows under the hillsLittered with gold dust, black goldOn which everything grows except peaceThe sky is blue, and the mists laden with…

By Karen Lee Stradford A blessing will arrive,sail in by a pleasant storm.Prayers set to guide its coursescriptures read to finda biblical name. In March,Remy will row inwith a splash aslove waits for himon the other side. He will hope…

By: Viator Deep Challenge The steep terrain was the attraction to meat five or six when on a fishing trip to the near northand the river whose bank here, from the quietroad, dropped with such an angle under the treesand…

By: James Aitchison Take refuge in the pureheart of your being.Your soul houseseverything you need.What other men callsecrets, you call knowledge.For you can live the wayall men should live, neverjudging, never prejudiced,at peace on the right path,content with wisdomthat abolishes…

By: Yucheng Tao Kiss Under obsidian clouds,Flowers kiss bees.Bees gaze at the soil—Who will kiss it? Purple Yesterday, today, tomorrow — all purple.Yesterday, today, I can’t sleep.Tomorrow’s test is hard and purple.My emotions are purple,even the exam paper is purple.Purple…

By: Ramlal Agarwal  V.S. Naipaul had a curious relationship with India. It was a country of his ancestors who settled in Trinidad as indentured labourers. He had grown up in Trinidad among a sizeable community of Indians who practised Hindu…

By James Aitchison The New York Times masthead proclaims: “All the news that’s fit to print.”  The newspaper’s mission is clear: “We seek the truth and help people understand the world.  This mission is rooted in our belief that great journalism has…

By: Michelle Murray Standing On the Edge Standing on the edgeTeeteringTotteringTrying not to fall offIt’s a balancing actStep rightThen step leftSoftlySlowlySo as not to slipSwinging my arms to balanceLike a circus actTrying to stay onTrying not to fallTo fall would…

By: John Muro Abiding I’ve come to this stretch of shorelinewith an uncertain purpose, watchingthe early autumn light pinking the hill-sides and the small swells that risethen pause in dramatic fashion, seemingto hold back time and allowing me todraw in…

By: James Aitchison Beneath every roof inthe world, fear and suspicioncoexist with love.Such is the imbalance of lifeand human discord.Goodness falls upon thegreat ocean of peopleand is swallowed a million timesby grief. Walk away.Released from your struggle,the soul which seeks…