By: Raymond Greiner  The history of warfare and the design of war, we are familiar with during this stage of human development, began in earnest after human living design distanced itself from the long time hunter-gatherer format. Sumer, in the…

By: Janna Vought Daddy’s dying, doesn’t know my name. Machines next to the bed hum him a lullaby. A fly escapes through an open window, into the unnatural bright day. How did we get here? I used to be young. Now,…

By: Janna Vought The world is wrong about me I’m a genius, broken girl sprung from Hell. Hell, where nectar flows from stone flowers and blackened apples shine. There are no humans here, only ghosts and shadows. Descend slowly, dark angel,…

By: Zunayet Ahammed i Beauty captivates me Not you I discern Beauty is skinned deep Subject to degeneration and decay Yet you feel proud of it Mysterious! ii You adorn yourself every day with softness, pearly whiteness, tenderness and the grace…

By: Zunayet Ahammed For her impulses intensified We poured and didn’t pour light Into her shadowy recollection Saying all this She faded away Like time flower But doesn’t she pass away afar Making us paranoid More passionately forever? She exists Like…

By: Pijush Kanti Deb The tree is too generous to hide its helplessness and the golden creeper is opportunist to accomplish its earthly compulsion- ‘’The struggle for existence’’. Here, as the difference is significant and debatable too so accountable is…

By Pijush Kanti Deb My old father shouts at me, ‘’Where is the ladder?’’ and throws me too into his spring time to witness a sweet flashback where, the shamefulness and fear are seen climbing a ladder to reach up…

By: Linda M Crate the crows follow me remind me to give wings to my dreams make them a reality, and it must suck to be you standing in monuments of moments that you mean to forget; always buried in…

By: Linda M Crate i have always tempered my tongue before i spoke to remain tactful and kind, but sometimes it’s so tempting to become like the monsters in my life simply ripping people apart with their tongue; but then…

By: Tamara White I She sits And waits. The Angel Trumpet of the Bar Her bloom is full, her vibrant coloring flawless. No sharp edges just soft lines flowing seamlessly together to create her seductiveness. Waist is narrow like a delicate…