By Ahmad Al-khatat Inside museum of corpses there are dead refugees bodies who died ’cause they were not characters, but priceless, experiments That helped humankind, with plastic surgery, they test dangers And feature The weapons Of flesh and blood, crash test dummies, design body armour against the aliens from the spaceship and women, private body … Continue reading Museum of Corpses
The Rainbow Who Saved My Life
By Ahmad Al-Khatat The last rainbow that appeared, recognized me from my eyes he told me that I survived the war and that he saved my life he said that back in my homeland he can’t be seen when he appears, instead he helps the angels to paint by Marking the children with my colours … Continue reading The Rainbow Who Saved My Life
“A grass widower/lover writes”
By Sunil Sharma Even in your long absence--- I hear daily your musical voice! The multi-coloured jingle of the bangles And the silver anklets Your laughter lingers On summer nights. I smell the perfume you wear To your work daily. As I drift finally Into the land of beautiful gentle sleep After a long … Continue reading “A grass widower/lover writes”
What’s the harm?
By Rajnish Mishra My mobile’s memory stores details, but it’s old. It’s not smart, my mobile, and old. I don’t delete some numbers. They’re dead, I’ve been told. Not the numbers. I thought to call, once at least, at least one of them, then I did not call. What if I … Continue reading What’s the harm?
“Flight”
By Sunil Sharma Wings tiny, wide-spread Against a crimson sky. Dark body dipping in/out Fluid dots spiraling out in a wavy series. A flight of pigeons going separately. The bird, joyous. Evening! Time to return home For the kids of the sky! Sunil Sharma is a college principal, freelance journalist, author and editor. Mumbai-based, he has … Continue reading “Flight”
“Madhouse”
By Sunil Sharma In a madhouse, the only sane are the insane the guys know/see things the normal are denied If there were no insane folks, how the world would measure its own diminishing sanity? The institutionalized soul was meditative: Why the mad politicians/terror-mongers outside? Sunil Sharma is a college principal, freelance journalist, author and … Continue reading “Madhouse”
“Zombie Thomas”
By Thomas Page I can’t help myself whenever I hear people taking Because it normally is too good to pass up. People love to have private conversations Loudly in public for all to hear. Like a groundling, I fervently pretend to not listen to passing moments Which I will never encounter again. I heard … Continue reading “Zombie Thomas”
“Interrogation of a cynical age”
By Sunil Sharma Where is the anger? Asks Jimmy Porter And where are the other angry men? Where is the next howl? Asks Ginsberg. And where is the scream? Asks Munch. Is madness passé? Asks Gogh, a bit disoriented. And where is my ambulance to drive in new hot spots? Asks Hemingway. They have … Continue reading “Interrogation of a cynical age”
“The Journey”
By Sunil Sharma I will take you to where moon is Or, other some such places where You hear the Amazon singing at her tenor full. The Niagara falling falling falling like tumbling$ Or: The ancient Nile being travelled by a young Cleopatra and Antony And recorded by the Bard for the King’s Men, … Continue reading “The Journey”
Haiku 246-256
By Thomas Page 246 The squirrels, privateers Of the forest, raid the bird Feeders for bounty 247 The water cycle, Amplified by the summer Heat. I need water 248 Schedules, gardens Of time, bloom regularly Like the clocks on walls 249 What are the birds of Summer? They all congregate In common … Continue reading Haiku 246-256
Academy of the Heart And Mind 