Lost in the darkness of night,Hearts pound fiercely side by side,Beating a rhythm of love in our ears.It is a magic moment,When two lovers speak an unwritten language.Arms encircle waists fleshy and warm;The hardness of your male chest against my cheek excites me,The fine curling hairs soft against my skin.Your broad back, masculine and strong,… Read More “Magic Moment” by Dawn Pisturino
After my trip to Paris, I re-jigged my playlistNow it’s full of opera classics, Stravinsky & Claude Debussy Electric soul & bluesy jazz,rap music & nouveau rockOld chansons & val musettes,Serge Gainsbourg’s risqué duets. Copyright © 2024 Jeanna Ní RíordáinAll Rights Reserved
I am different from you as chalk is from cheese Accept… I cannot be you I think differently process information at different speeds adding filters in-between applying logic Stop trying to make me your clone Love doesn’t mean I agree with you whole Copyright © 2024 Snigdha Agrawal. All rights reserved.
I cried for you for the last time last night,there is no feeling left when one’s lost the fight.You have won the battle,but you just lost the war.You will forage on the groundwhen in the sky you could soar.I have no words left, yet my voice has never been louder.The deepest wounds one has are… Read More “For The Last Time Last Night” by John RC Potter
been stalking the ladyfor decades enchanted by her calmnessthrough rough patchesover deserts and mountainsalways ten paces aheadEvery time I tried catching upshe increased her pacewidening the gapbetween ustill the road endedShe stoppedWe metI sought her advicehow best to reachthat status of calmness.She held me to her breastwhispered…when burdenedwhen disturbedwhen painedwhen humiliatedwhen love is not reciprocated… Read More “Stalking” by Snigdha Agrawal
this forlorn looking guy around twenty, steps in front of me and says, “Please, man, help me out. I can’t stay here any longer. This place is too much for me. I need to get home but I don’t have enough money. Can you just help me out with a few dollars?” Checking him out… Read More “WALKING ON HAIGHT STREET” by Jeffrey Zable
As the parent who had saved up enough overtime to cash it in and take an entire year off I was also the parent responsible for child rearing Evelyn demanded me 24 hours a day I was happy to give her all that I was and all that I had I slept alone in one… Read More “Tired Mommy” by CLS Sandoval
Tonight,I could only write aboutyou long,tender and incessantly,without reason,without blinking,No regrets.Just like my heartwithout programs,without schemes,no combination.Because you are,of course,gentleand lazy,but as if I knew everything aboutyou and you around,as if it had always belonged to thosehands,eyes,Hugs.TonightI could only write aboutyou and I touch the stars withmy handsbecause you gave me your shine. Copyright ©… Read More “TONIGHT” by Jasna Gugić
In 1837 Charles Dickens published NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. I think it was his third novel, and as great as it was, it was very much of its time. That very same year, Honore de Balzac published LOST ILLUSIONS, which is without doubt my favorite of all his novels. And Balzac wrote a lot of novels. In… Read More “Talking Classics — 4” by John Yamrus
There is a subtle dysphoria that lingers with sediment along the walls in veins. I’ve nothing left from one moment to the next. I might be driving a certain street – a week ago, I drove down Cherry Alley. Seeing the street sign reminds me of all those nights at your house – the bathtub… Read More “flooding” by Melissa Lemay
So many dead people caught in the crossfire created by the money men, the arms traders, the super ego-ed politicians. They lie dead where they fell. Flesh and blood transformed to fertiliser to nurture the seeds and grow the crops, in a future they will not see. Their bones decaying to dust to form the… Read More “Washed Up” by Lynn White
AT SAFEWAY about an hour ago, I was standing in front of the delicatessen waiting for someone to help me when a woman came up alongside of me with a beautiful dog on a leach. Looking into the dog’s eyes I said to him, “How are you doing buddy?” Lowering his head, he immediately moved… Read More Two Dog Poems by Jeffrey Zable
WaitingOverlapped days, merged into months,Flight of lands on year.Nothing seems changing,Still everything has been changed;While expecting the days filled with brillianceDesolated trees of my village,Longing for the warbles of Siberian birds.Falling leaves of Banyan tree;Is still longing for winds to be swept away.Life, in its entirety has waited for death. Anticipation of life,Ends with death.… Read More “Waiting” by Kumar Ghimire
My uncle barged into my bedroom too early on a Saturday morning, waving a sheet of paper. “What is this?” he demanded. “Who is this Richard —-?” Omg. Dicky. I had hit him with my car, while playing chicken in the High school parking lot. He had gone onto the hood, into the windshield, and… Read More “Dicky” by Wayne F Burke
Painting provided by the John RC Potter Empty Heart To say I miss you says almost nothing at all, for my heart beats within this empty space, and even when I close my eyes I see yours: those inky pools of black within that face. Red… You drew me in with those eyes of the… Read More Red Sky At Morning: Two Poems by John RC Potter
MasticadoresPhilippines has been born. We are very happy to welcome new writers into our community, the 16th blog and, in addition to English, the 7th language: Tagalog. I thank its new editors for accepting the challenge: Norj Joseph and Michelle Ayón Navajas, who will achieve a strong and powerful community, in which there are many… Read More MasticadoresPhilippines has been born!
A demanding cry that ends in shriek is the first known call of love a knowing seeking satisfaction at the heaving breast the nipple best. And the mother gives like Eve powerless to resist ancient need that cannot rest a soul that will recycle birthing futures. From the seed of Adam’s Eden naked undefiled a… Read More “The Seed of Adam’s Eden” by Tony Ashenden
Time brokers these intentions of mine, some become deeds and some scatter like seed in the Wind from above. My Instrument hand is a forge that you cause, heating, hammering a die: Casting Love. Deeds are the doings of my better-born seeds some grow like trees and some more gentle perfume places of privacy. My… Read More “Instrument Being” by Tony Ashenden
The house was her domain. Antique teacups, Wyeth prints, Christina’s World hung over the sofa, Stone Fence nearby, china plates, cut glass, crystal glinting in sunlight; brilliant red and blues underfoot, oriental rug I didn’t dare walk on. The cellar was his. Maps of the world taped everywhere over cellar walls hid cold concrete, lovingly… Read More “World Atlas” by Julie A. Dickson
He hears the wallpapers. By third time he knows to diagnose his woe even before he hears their fading hum, peeling off noise. He will sleep all day, his eyes open, shirt sweaty, a fly on his index, saliva-wet pillowcase. He will sit on the stairs, so still that sparrows will cease to see him.… Read More “When You Hear the Wallpapers” by Kushal Poddar
What do you do when everything feels so empty? A walk in the woods, your favorite TV show, the taste of cold soda, a cat purring on your lap, the drag of a cigarette, a round of couch sex. Hell, even these words seem weightless— as if they don’t mean anything to anyone. Copyright ©… Read More “Lackluster” by Gabriel Bates
I wrote a letter today to a woman I knew long ago I was in awe with her. Fierce and resilient she reminded me of women warriors. Of fearless women cutting through life. While life, stood, transfixed, watching her. In my darkest hours, I often sought her; and she, unclouded by confusion, urged me to… Read More “I Wrote a Letter Today” by Marzia Rahman
Located in downtown Kutztown since 2012, Firefly Bookstore is an independently owned and operated new and used bookstore. Re-located in a bigger store in 2017, Rebecca Laincz and Matthew Williams now have almost 3000 square feet of space for over 65,000 items. In addition to large sections of children’s books, general fiction, sci-fi, mystery and… Read More Interview of Matthew Williams: Firefly Bookstore by Nolcha Fox
Chewers 