Poem by Emmanuel Douglas Mulomole ASK FOR NOTHING BUT LOVE II I and my fellow youths, we really teach A world love in everywhere should reach Not with a pure spirit of non-platonic love But a spirit of bestowing unprofaned love Let us ask profoundly and unpretentiously For love to […]ASK FOR NOTHING BUT LOVE (II- III) Poem by Emmanuel Douglas Mulomole
Poem by Alan Patrick Traynor IN THE TREMBLING FIELDS Hail and cry the knotted crosses Of Béal a’ Daingin A stemson stout causeway Where fear the intangible mires The mighty fields made of scalpel birth An oralism of polychoral Viking ships in Christ Church Cathedral In the harsh shrill sound of […]IN THE TREMBLING FIELDS / Poem by Alan Patrick Traynor
By J.T. Hassey
Resiliency is what happens when you are tired, and you allow yourself to be tired, and you sleep, and you are rested, and the world allows – the world encourages – your rest and reawakening.
J.T. Hassey is a clinician, an artist, a talker, and a listener, who writes about death, despair, childhood, dreaming, creatures, oppression, history, change, gratitude, and beloved Gramy. Born, raised, educated, and still rooted here in Dorchester, Massachusetts, US of A.
By Petrouchka Alexieva
Quilt of Life
(To Mom and Dad)
“Please, stay. Let’s make this life together!” My father said to my mom in the morning. This is what life is, a colorful quilt – In size that we can make it by choice. Every piece has its story; every color is a season of love, Happiness or some sorrows, and disappointments When something doesn’t fit perfectly on the corners, But it can be fixed with another colorful patch. It takes work patience and dedication, Few sparkles in the eyes and keep going with smile When the weather is not very pleasant, But the quilt will warm us up. It is our taste of life.
With Crown of His Own
Driving to Victorville early this morning After a cold Californian night. I was not in a hurry. I had nothing to worry. The sky was clear, the sun just emerged…
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By Fred Klein
Percy Soames was a small man with a baby face that made him look younger than his 32 years. He was elated that he had his first-class ticket on the maiden voyage of the Titanic to New York. There he would be able to socialize with the Guggenheims, Astors, and Strauses. He had gotten into land speculation and thought that New York would be the perfect place to make his fortune with its new skyscraper buildings.
Looking at the Titanic was awe-inspiring. It was the biggest, fastest ship ever built, and it was supposedly unsinkable. The black hull with the white superstructure and the four funnels made it look like it was in constant motion.
He walked up the gangplank and was addressed by the purser. “The first-class cabins are up two levels more towards the bow of the ship.”
“Thank you, I am looking forward to…
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By Mehreen Ahmed
Short story: ‘As soon as he stepped out of the cubicle, the ‘ghost’ disappeared. Perhaps, it was an optical illusion. Like a rainbow where people saw only the colours, not the water particles behind the veil.’
This was one of those days when the sun had tilted slightly south while rotating on its sliding axis. Dolly Rahman woke up to go for a morning jog. Her favourite route was through a lonely park near her apartment. Like every day, she came down the elevator in her white sneakers, but noticed today that her laces had come undone. She stooped over on the pavement to tie them up. Someone jogged past her. She could smell the faint odour of sweat in the air. She looked from the corner of her eyes. It was a male jogger.
He went a few nimble steps ahead, and then turned around to…
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