By Rizwan Sahib Bodies flatline on the heat wave,and that’s the good. The bad: after the argument, I flung my broad-brimmed hat into the back seat,and left it there. Now I feel like I’ve been whacked on the head by a cricket bat. Someone says to sit in the shade. If only we could trade … Continue reading Afternoon Thoughts in Katoomba
Dora Marr
By Antonia Hildebrand Women are suffering machines, Picasso said.And then he did everything he could to make it true.Poor Dora loved him.She was an artist herself,but he immortalized her as The Weeping Woman,without ever admitting, he was the onewho made her weep.Dark haired, beautiful, gifted and intense,she fell for him.Her photography was innovative and radical.So … Continue reading Dora Marr
Reflections on a day with my mother
By Grace Fisher Dance I pick through my day with youAdding up every moment spent apartIn the bathroom, on my phone, or at the barEach second feels like something I have lost Then, I draw out every moment when I was impatient, or upset, or didn’t encourage you to buy an ugly beach bagThis, too, … Continue reading Reflections on a day with my mother
Reading at the Parlor
By Ken Gosse They decided the Reaper was truly a keeper,his poetry earning their membership’s yearning,a group which would meet once their days were completeyet before their last showing, while tears were still flowing.The prep nearly finished, with hopes undiminishedthat they’d read again to a group with a yenfor their poetry’s call which would clearly … Continue reading Reading at the Parlor
Nomenclature
By Richard Weaver Blue mountains rising, century after centuryawakening to fall again. To rise anew, yearning for a hand like rain waking from sleep, after dreaming in green water blackening beneath cypresses. A drowned moon afloat in its troubles. And hills of brazen angels. Blue mountains reigning. His first published poem appeared in Poetry Magazine … Continue reading Nomenclature
The Shape of Love
By Hossein Hakim Love is the longing to simply be near,To feel their presence when they're not here.A whisper missed, a silent room—Yet in your heart, their flowers bloom.Love is the pull of a gentle embrace,The ache in your arms for a familiar face.A brush of fingers, a warming skin,A quiet fire that glows within.Love … Continue reading The Shape of Love
Mulţumesc
By Kaleb M Dufel Morning comesSleep finally did.She wakes me with thevoice of the old worldthe voice that carried with her a dream-a dream i’ve woken up from.We eat breakfast togetherI can’t bear to eat with the others.She tells me about her homeI welcome her to mine.Later, I dance along an ivory street dotted with … Continue reading Mulţumesc
the desperation of neat little boxes
By Kevin Scheepers The desperation of neat little boxes,The despair of perfect labels;Stable entities that dare not change without prior notice.A moth disinterested in distinguishing simulacra from simulacrum,The dragon could not take such liberties.The unintentional incantations you utter,Billets-doux to yourself, remaining unanswered.Couldn't reach you over there on planet apathy,Burnt the curtains for warmth; a useful … Continue reading the desperation of neat little boxes
The paper lantern
By Irene Clarke The paper lantern was filled with love, as it floated in the sky,All her tears were falling, as she watched her memories fly.Would the lantern reach the place, where he said he’d wait for her?She wasn’t sure about anything, the last few days a blur.There were people all around her to wish … Continue reading The paper lantern
Whatever I torture this history, it does not yield
By Mohsen Hosseinkhani Translated by Tahere Forsat Safaei Whatever I torture this history,It does not yield.In the body of that black,How many broken ribs of his father are suffering?In the chest of this red,How many bulletsHave killed the name of his tribe?The throat of NishapurIs still in the claws of Genghis,And we stillEat breadFrom that … Continue reading Whatever I torture this history, it does not yield
Academy of the Heart And Mind 