Categoría: poetry
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Three Sad Poems by Nolcha Fox
The Slug I swallowed your death,spit it out as a ball. I tossed the ballin my garden. The ball uncurledinto a slimy slug. The slug suckedthe sun from the flowers. The slug stolethe soil, fertile and dark. The slug made my gardenan empty, dry patch. All that was leftwas your…
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Cleopatra by Dawn Pisturino
Ptolemy’s daughter gently traced the carvings on the wall and said,«Papa, teach me how to read the sacred language of the gods.»The Pharaoh smiled, proud of his precocious offspring, and said nothing.Ptolemy’s daughter unrolled the delicate temple scroll and pleaded,«Please, Papa, teach me the sacred language of the priests.»Pharaoh sighed,…
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«bustling» by O.P. Jha
listen, behold, recognizeit’s a sparkit’s a splashit’s a seasoned timberit’s multifacetedit’s standing straight before the crownsboiled in a clay-pot,transformed into vapordiffused in the airand intermingled with the clouds,with the rainit mixed with the soilit grew in the womb of the Earthsprouted with green cropsmetamorphosed into grainsand became the life-breathsof floras…
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The Other Side by Laura Bennett
Image by Kevin from The Beginning at Last The time has come, I did my best Upon my final day of rest To live this life just one more time An older soul in body and mind Served my purpose, conscience clear Hearing the whisper of spirits near Calming peace…
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Flyover state of mind by Zak Wardell
1. An exodus splits the ocean of corn,ninety minutes from Kirksville,country miles rolling under the wheels. Each turn of locomotion cuts thick summer air, twilight putting to rest lazy daydreams Imagination, the cheapest way to travel, pulls fuelfrom wells of dinosaurs. Bring the mindunearth the body. 2. Recent news of Baxterfalling to his…
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Where Silence Blooms by Jaideep Khanduja
You trace the edge where silence meets the sound,A moment born where words have yet to grow.You speak in fragments, gestures circling round,And from your eyes, the hidden rivers flow. You hold a space where strangers dare not tread,A crack in time that only you can see.The world is shifting, but…
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“Tanka” by Wayne F. Burke
night dark as burnt toastI would not eat thoughGrandma insisted burnttoast good formy teeth Copyright © 2025 Wayne F. BurkeAll Rights Reserved
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«The sticky web» by Ken Tomaro
8 am on Tuesdayand I’m eating a bowl of cerealwatching a spider suck the soul out of a mothbefore he wraps it in a cocoonseems like we’ll both have a busy day Copyright © 2025 Ken TomaroAll Rights Reserved
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Ghazal of the Phantasmal Light by Steffen Horstmann
The clouds of mist that dissolve into the Jhelum’s skin of lightAre Devis that seek to return to the origin of light. Within a candle’s glow Faiz scratches lines from Zindan-NamaOnto a prison wall that gleams like a bulletin of light. Shahid wrote of how Akhtari clothed notes in her…
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Spring Reckoning by Cindy Georgakas
The cocoon nestled in the dappled forest skies, shadowing mists of change, preparing for springs arrival. Dormancy awakens spirits, turned over in their grave popping blooms where they are buried, rising with hope and a reckoning. Shedding light where darkness has flung mud on the tombstone of hate and war…
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«MY MOTHER’S LOVER» by Kabir Deb
The house trembles with my breath,signing off the head. Paradingthrough those tiny squaredwindows. My mother loves a strangeman. He feeds on her breath,sleeps on her thighs. She patientlytightens the legs when he asksfor it, and quickly broadens herheart to hold him close! I think of the man like a lie.Often…
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«Looking for Father» by Ma Yongbo
My mother passed away in the summer.I was at sea in the summer.The waves of freedom were endlessly spreading towards the horizon.Butterflies traveled with the ship, often landing on the ship’s side. After a long time, I returned to land.My brothers and sisters were busy packing our luggage.They didn’t tell…
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Two Poems Tell a Story by John Yamrus
she used to piss him offwith her habit of saying supposably andfor all intensive purposes, but,in the grandscheme of thingsit didn’t really matter, becauseevery now and then she’dstop her talkand they could justsit there, doing nothing, whilethe dogs of summerbarked and the day grew old.***she died of appendicitiswhen he was nine, and hegot shuttledbetween familyand friends and backto family…
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Ode to an Old Road by Prarthana Gogoi
Sitting on my lapA thin muddy roadechoes my childhood daystraveling one by one into my shady mindpieces of fragmented memoriesclick back some songs of cowherd boysburdened with loss and hunger, I see the rhythm of bihu dance with the blooming wild orchidon our smiling curly hairunder an ancient fruit bearing treeI hear…
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«Decaf Espresso» by Gary D. Grossman
Words thatshould nevercomingle—insentence or cup. Copyright © 2025 Gary D. GrossmanAll Rights Reserved
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«after work» by John Yamrus
icome home, walkinto the kitchen and throw my wallet onthe counter. thenmy pens, mycards andfinally mykeys, whichslide along the counter, spin,do a little dance and finallycome to a stop. some day so willi. Copyright © 2025 John YamrusAll Rights Reserved
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