By: Sunil Sharma Under a grey-blue sky, Pouring rain below, By parting curtains of Ballooning clouds Dark and pregnant, Walks this young mad, A woman with Sparkling eyes, And a bright smile, Looking heavenwards, Talking to those that Live there unseen by…

By: Sri Ram I remember, once I read from a book. The bonding between two bodies at the center is tighter than the ones at any other part. The moment I saw her in the bus, for the first time, I…

By: Pijush Kanti Deb When a pool is bloomed in a desert and a blossom on a rock, an unknown thirst crawls in my body informing a new spring is nearby. When the sky gets down to land and the…

By: JD DeHart One thought floats down, a feather, light and buzz, another bumps out of the way like a rubber ball, ready to escape permanent sight I allow my mouth to form the idea, and the throw it out…

By: JD DeHart It could be guessed that two cars passed by, two persons, shade by shade, a wave Blue lights tell passersby that the passage was not so discrete, and the man carrying bags of broken auto indicates a smashing…

By: JD DeHart All you need exists in the top right-hand drawer, including the bits of tape, the old pictures of yourself, the business card, a reminder about your ego, the birthday candle you told yourself you would keep, the folded…

By: Ruth Z. Deming We are all of one family here under the aluminum shell of this popular filler-up join If attacked we would cling together like wagon trains rolling across the virgin plains Bucky, the manager, would protect us, so…

By: Ruth Z. Deming I came out of the water one day and became a dragonfly. I didn’t know what to do. Under water they called me a nymph. Like the fish that surrounded me I flashed my gills and thought…

By: Ruth Z. Deming One morning I woke up with that feeling of “ugh”: I haven’t written a good poem in nearly a month. Only yesterday I called and invited myself over. Slipped on my black clogs and walked out the…

By: Ruth Z. Deming This story was originally published in Harper’s Bazaar, 1952 “A Mother’s Tale” is open to interpretation by the critics and professors Let me fill you in. We’re talking cows here the slow comely soft-eyed darlings the English…