By Rizwan Saleem Covered, closed and sealed Fist after fist of moist sand Laid to rest The walk back now for the living A drive to return to an empty abode Wouldn't it be so much better to also bury the memories behind Carry on now i must, and still be near the places where … Continue reading The Departed
Ghost
By James D. Casey IV Full eighteen hundred years This place Has its undertone As do my words A dark young pine In the middle of a cemetery He calls out Telling me to play on So I do Over the levee I find solitude A place of forgotten morning … Continue reading Ghost
Rhapsody of the Spirit
By James D. Casey IV Illumination of Soft blue light The runes all point northwest Mount the mustangs Head for the hills Nothing worth saving here Follow the dragonflies Floating along the narrow path Guiding the journey Deep into the mountain forest Mutiny on life itself Taking over the reins I … Continue reading Rhapsody of the Spirit
Whatever Happened To the Happiness
By James D. Casey IV Side show freak Tattooed Scarred Driving A black clown car Packed with darkness The sadness Behind the circus Laugh clown Laugh A hidden world A mad world Dreams They come and go Heavy breath Take it in Think Somewhere in time A … Continue reading Whatever Happened To the Happiness
“Parliament; or Crepe Suzette”
By Thomas Page There was a nation called Newlandia which existed in a time not unlike our own. It had majestic coasts sprinkled with fishing villages. It had glens bearding mountains and mountains cutting into the skies. The little country had no reason to be recorded in history because it kept to itself and … Continue reading “Parliament; or Crepe Suzette”
“Babel”
By Thomas Page Long, long, ago It has been supposed That we all spoke With the same furl of tongue. Long, long ago It has been told That we all spoke With the same folly of tongue. Long, long ago It has been foretold That if we all spoke With the same furl of … Continue reading “Babel”
“Lyres”
By Thomas Page What are poems made of? Are they made of chalk scribbled on concrete Or are they reflections found in mirrors, Or are they made of acrylic, Or of the condensation of the sky, Or even the quiet moments found in the fading light in eyes That meet for a moment? The … Continue reading “Lyres”
Haiku 221-234
By Thomas Page Virgil says hell is in Naples, birthplace of pizza: Sweltering ovens I finally know Why a sweater is called A “sweater;” it’s hot A poet and a tech Each crafting a design the Same; ekphrasis A thousand years of Death in Virgil recycled By oblivion A doppelgänger Sitting at a desk with … Continue reading Haiku 221-234
“Sakura”
By Thomas Page Potomac Waters Reflecting the Washington Marbled-white skyline. Calendared April, Waxing hibernating. Heat now rising from The ground, awakens Rosy-hued gifts from Japan ‘Bout a century Ago. See how the Washingtonian escapes Political plight To smell faintly sweet Cherry blossoms and to crown Themselves new Floras, Kings and Queens of trees Belonging … Continue reading “Sakura”
“Brain of a Cat”
By Thomas Page Dr. Reading wanted to make a scene By transforming a cat into a dream Teacher by the end of fifteen school weeks. Sangchu, his proposed student, barely speaks Nor communicates with the clarity Normally reserved by rarity Of talking animals. “This is harder Than I initially envisioned,” to her He said. … Continue reading “Brain of a Cat”
Academy of the Heart And Mind 