By J.J. Campbell soft black skin and my pain fades into oblivion when i look into your eyes it's going to take more than a hurricane to stop me from falling again
“The Wise Child”
By Laura Potts I remember he fled from the fogdrop moors with the dawn and the bells of December beyond, calling morning to the streets while winter wept beneath the trees. A sleeping me before the door glowed on behind my mother’s knees. With holly-forest at his feet from leaping long the brawling leas, … Continue reading “The Wise Child”
Being
By Rajnish Mishra It's difficult to be what you are destined to be, more difficult to know what you are destined to be, and then to live, not reaching there, ever. Nothing comes for free. The world takes the fee of life. Sometimes it simply condemns you to live your death as you … Continue reading Being
“But then parts of you”
By Laura Potts But then parts of you are dead. I sent the world a postcard from a fusty window that said I am wearing my grief. Sling clothes into the bin: your socks, your skirts, the … Continue reading “But then parts of you”
Five Stages of Death
By Ahmad Al-khatat O world, take the cup from me I already feel the damages of The last sips down my throat Exploring the five stages of Death Denial Isolation Anger Anxiety and depression Ahmad Al-Khatat, was born in Baghdad, Iraq on May 8th. He has been published in several press publications and anthologies all … Continue reading Five Stages of Death
“Sweet Autumn”
By Laura Potts And years later, you at the bus stop. Yesterday's leaves in your hair. The seat where we laughed. Our words in the air. Sweetheart. The years threaded up our names scratched on the glass. Rain argued away the grass-stained fingerprints, the love turned over on clumsy tongues, the moonbows, the flimsy … Continue reading “Sweet Autumn”
I’m eight
By Rajnish Mishra I‘m eight. Now, that I’ve seen eight, nine, I’m sure, will not be as fine as they write in those tales. Tales are just tales, I know, I’m eight. So, they talk to me, I listen, and nod, then I do what I want. I’ve seen when I … Continue reading I’m eight
“Whatever Brilliant Shade”
By Thomas Page Whatever brilliant shade that happens Upon a petal or blade inspires The mind’s eye to a world hued with the Intensity of everlasting springs That beget ever-knowing happiness. Nature preserved in Keats’ frieze, an urn Adorned with the ultimate perfection As gauged by an imperfect eye wishing For it to be so. … Continue reading “Whatever Brilliant Shade”
The Scent of Death
By Ahmad Al-khatat All writers smoke cigarettes and so I smoke cheap cigars All poets drink wine and cheese and so I drink vodka with nuts All dreamers talk about romance and so I talk about love in an erotic way All workers take a break from work and so I do not take a … Continue reading The Scent of Death
“Alma Mater”
By Laura Potts Widow-black and winter, evening took me south into lamps burning blue in the dusk. Out and over my hometown musk lay the hinterland hills breathing low in the dark. Still, frostspark sharp on the city streets, holy rain sweet in the winter and the wet, with no evening stars ahead I … Continue reading “Alma Mater”
Academy of the Heart And Mind 