I saw Odysseus sprawled on the sidewalk between The squalid little deli and the boarded-up All-night video place whose weather-stained Posters advertised GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS Amid obtuse indecipherable graffiti and A fallen constellation of multi-hued shards of Broken glass that crunched underfoot like Bone fragments The patina of snow about him Pristine in its absence… Read More Odysseus by Michael L. Utley
The moon, a placid sea, reflecting back a mantra of meaning watching the sun set along a coast, depleted and dry tears leak from porous eyes reflecting back a mirror of vastness, and of limitation infinite being of love always, and forever seen -JEFF FLESCH Jeff Flesch lives in Corvallis, Oregon, and was voted the… Read More Placid Sea by Jeff Flesch
I drive in circles manifesting a purpose given to me as a child it’s these coattails of peace and love I ride transcending pain, a realization arises like petals falling from my heart a dew-covered and encapsulated light invades my mind with love making ashes out of notions of time -JEFF FLESCH Jeff Flesch lives… Read More Time’s Ashes by Jeff Flesch
I sit, knees and hands folded end over end awaiting the cosmos to appear within my heart, a flower blooming in the vacuum of space and time a riddle, when chasing the flickering mind yet, if we stop to realize a resemblance arises of the trees and the breeze and, of something far grander than… Read More Cosmos Within by Jeff Flesch
Granite SliverArrowhead I see you spurnedby Pigmy Bowmanyet you suffice and scathethe greening mortar…Mind that delibly recordsattemptmy show and outward personality. This ribbon of a madman’s weaveis the tape of all my sayingsmallborder thin and compass handthe clutch and stayFingers….Placing granite slabs to facetheir palms of tungsten fleshtoward the shortened eye. Yet soonthe tongue of… Read More The Ribbon of a Madman’s Weave by Tony Ashenden
speak to me thru languages of noble trees seducing flesh softly with feather fingers vast sorrows seen with linking filters of blue sealing eyes, stirring inducing, aching for you birds move with beating hearts, as we rise a doe bends a seedling for a taste of new tears drop on silk pillowcase releasing sigh turtle… Read More Forest of Light by Joni Caggiano
I’ve grown to embrace the putrid smellof campground composting toiletsSometimes, I even miss it…It’s a positive association that’s developed throughout my life – The mountain of shit composed of innumerable contributions, each with a unique chemistry – That smell reminds me that I’m camping, which reminds me that I’m outside which reminds me that I’m alive … Read More Compost by Andrew Douglas
Knitted in the document of names, the journey beginsOf what do you see the traits begin or howHow does the trail reveal its rootsA name stands to gain footage on scrollsLike a mushrooming tree, it gains its footholdA surname likened to a familyThe name that catapults the flames of identityTo know the branches that hold… Read More What’s in a Name by Shobana Gomes
the three of them stood by the banks and watched the water turn red So it’s not like in the movies. When you see someone dying you don’t burst into uncontrollable fits of screaming You stand very still and watch and can’t speak can’t blink can’t turn away can’t run can’t do anything really Shock… Read More Shock by Bogdan Dragos
Oh dear! Comfort you are so cozy and warmJust like a blanket in a cold night and like homeYou make me feel lighter without any fearYou just become a habit, oh so dearOne part of me always pushes you away from meYes, I am one of those who mostly listen to the part that says-“… Read More Where’s the End by Swati Sharma
oranges and limes fill the sky a scent reminiscent of another time when love was like a drop of candy in the winter and the fields were dusty a cloudless drifter was I looking for another relation the wonder filling my mind while birds chirped on the trees broken limbs and I continued to swim… Read More Cloudless Drifter by Jeff Flesch
Then there came a day when my sun lost its way I waited, choking the pain, waited in vain the blanket hugged me, warily I peeped, fearing what I’d see. My dreams still lay on the window sill, drinking the night’s nectar of make believe intoxicating fragrant deception velvety seduction enticing glimmering moon bugs that… Read More I Lost My Sun by Dr. Sunil Kaushal
inhaling grey dust my dying skin red cells pump time within your cells mixing a sour soup of my regret our broken loop floating away now tasting you allay soaring on in a sky dazzling blue -JONI CAGGIANO Joni’s blog is Rum and Robots, where she has published poetry, photography, and short stories. Take a… Read More Recycling Time by Joni Caggiano
The days are blurred, almost like the orange juice from last night’s party a pale sick shadow of grapevine hanging across my windowpane- perching beneath my skirt to cast its magic onto my heavy eyelids. People say- “it is sunny outside.” But, how should I believe? With a loose limb, the clemency of body I… Read More The Sun Never Parts by Devika Mathur
She can see fresh leaf green through the concrete, spot a fairy from ten thousand miles away and always in her own reflection. She’s three. Fairy dust – what a joke. That’s not how she operates. Look for the cracks, the cuts and scars. When one world bursts open, another one waits underneath, ready to… Read More The Girl by Britta Benson
It’s okay to feed fearEvery now and againPerhaps it will satiateAnd become your friend Like the darkness that surrounds the glow of the fire Each one illumines the other Or the rhythmic exchange between all aspects natureThere is no father without mother Or the grief that reflects the soul on the pyreIt’s not to be exhumed… Read More Categories by Andrew Douglas
The world is falling apart. People are moving away and there’s so much chaos inside. Coffee is tasteless this morning, breakfast, bland. Skin tastes saltier, face is drier than ever. How am I gonna live with myself? It’s too cold outside. The place where I stand, everything revolves around this. Sometimes, my head spins along.… Read More Pow-er by Bharath Upendra
tearfully shedding buttery orange leaves all year silently for each life shed in brutality and fear earth rejoices when drops descend from the sky mixing with pores of earth’s green and dirt dry love kisses thistle and uncurls branches to clap while lovers snuggle close, slowing hearts to nap petrichor releases a gift to enhance… Read More Life and Nature Beseeches by Joni Caggiano
the big purple bird with no eyes and chipped beak didn’t fly It walked like a normal person would. Almost like someone was wearing it as a costume but he knew of course that there was no one wearing the costume It was real and it showed itself to him on too many occasions. Every… Read More Rotten Tongue by Bogdan Dragos
I sit atop the stairs, reminiscing on times fair, and difficult beyond repair. As the pain continues to arise, and the memories flood my mind, my heart continues to wage a war with love at the center of despair. I pick myself up, dust off the self, and realize what love is all about —… Read More Earth Our Home by Jeff Flesch
“Lack of love,” she once told him, “can turn a man into a cracked shell. Turn his steps into rotten butterfly wings falling. Turn his breath into ether. His heart into a sick slug struggling to escape a haunted bog.” Sure, sure but then again his parents told him long ago when he was a… Read More A Cracked Shell by Bogdan Dragos
the pains in his lower back were killing him “Fuck,” he said, “that’s what I get for not investing into a decent chair.” He reached into his pack and took out another cigarette. “But I gotta smoke to stay alive. What a shitty life.” He typed for another 36 minutes and then his friend, the… Read More You Laid Eggs Under my Eyelids? by Bogdan Dragos
sparkling eyes jump to blue skies laughter cracking like popcorn off pinecones while the sun sighs an echo, a reflection of my face joy creates sunbeams in her smile a bald eagle spots us in this place new roots toss footballs with dad blankets of earth’s carpet supple vibrating with merriment, now sad as end… Read More Collective Heritage by Joni Caggiano
I remind you of that part of yourself which you forgot or can’t continue to be..You choose to be alike to be accepted in society..You hate me for enjoying my solitude and being me..I choose my people with little caution..But like to treat all without prejudice..And you judge me on the basis of parameters..Which you… Read More I Am Me by Swati Sharma
Chewers 