Friday, April 19, 2024

September 2019

Title: The Wild Essential Writer: Claudine Nash Format: Paperback Publisher: Kelsay Books Publishing Date: 2017 Language: English Price: USD 14.00 Reviewed by: Melissa A. Chappell The Wild Essential is Claudine Nash’s second full-length poetry collection. It is preceded by her poetry collection, Parts per Trillion (Aldrich Press, 2016), and a poetry chapbook, The Problem with Loving Ghosts...
The Work of Art It is just another day To be proud Happy with who I am With high self Esteem And the old broom and Mop at hand.   At the Doctor Trust, to care about Who I am As if to let me have My say Pad and pen the end Or give me a couple Words as a pathway.
Shikhandin Poetry has been with humans since the beginning of time. And will remain with humanity until the last human breath is stilled. Throughout the millennia of poetry’s existence, it has always reflected upon and mirrored the world in which it was birthed. Poetry, like all the other arts, reveals society’s...
Midsummer i I was inside a labyrinth: A flood in front of me. The endless surge and fall of water. The deep ocean surface wavered before turned in white waves. When the waves receded, they left a little shimmer in my little eyes. At a distance, something washed ashore. A blue...
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma even the violence seems germane. same old Wichita, ain’t it? bomb every last life boat, make the bird on the bill soar free above that ancient tomb. a camera’s just one eye but damn if we don’t know how to whisk a crowd after wrongful frenzy.   the NRA pays less taxes than me  you won’t find that shrapnel wound in their tax ID #. the business end of muzzle is only prelude of holy creation. “be...

Micro fiction

Kushal Poddar Hiss Illias sat for hours on a bench that looked dusty but the cleaning stuff did his job as per his daily schedule. When he finally met the authority, the officer took his application, written like a summer river, and said nothing. Illias went to the forest department. Went to...

Poems by Gale Acuff

Tongues I don't care if Jesus died for my sins I tell my Sunday School teacher after class, He'll have to do better than that to get me to come back next week and then I leave her without saying goodbye atop the two-by-four-and-plywood porch of our trailer-classroom, or is that our classroom -trailer, whatever it is it has...
On the Crossroads O’ father, hold my fingers in your firm grip and help me cross the road.   Suspicion I’ve burnt myself half, fortuitously. And deliberately, left the rest unburned.   Bike Accident Helmet transforms into a skull. The road runs as usual.   Insomnia Night burns into an ashtray. I fly to you with the wings of ashes.
  hand washing apples are crimson like the faces of children who exit their births breathing as fire, raptured by still tears. she was a silence of horror the venom of encroachment tearing up like wind a tunnel of thought I am only left to this fanatical flaw centuries of madness, tearing at the curtains. like Shakespeare’s army ants actors in drag, frightened wraiths isolated...

Burrito Deluxe

Title: Burrito Deluxe Writer: Joe Ridgwell Format: Paperback Book Length: 234 Publisher: Leamington Books Language: English ISBN-10: 0993227201 ISBN-13: 978-0993227202 Price: £ 9.99 Reviewed by: Koushik Sen The Metaphysical Rebels: Burrito Deluxe as the final Road Novel “What the fuck are these monsters?” I said. Ronnie attempted to put one end of the leviathan into his mouth. --Burrito Deluxe. (Ridgwell, 88) Joe Ridgwell’s...

Poems by B S Tyagi

Word… Word is Brahman It emerges from Hiranyagarbh And wanders in the ether Man’s heart vibrates He hears its rapturous melody And sways in ecstasy And is lost in the sacred silence. The other day… The predator pounces upon the word And preserves the kill A dictionary is compiled It hardly objects But, is it at ease? Lexicons continue multiplying And then, words…words…words… Words sans soul   Across...

Poems by Kalyani Bindu

A Fever of Living Some nights step lightly, like lily-shadows in blue water- apparitions in transit, between dreams. She awakens in a translucent purgatory- a tread from an incipient dream to a feverish slumber, to a body - a map of nocturnal metamorphosis, lacerated fish belly sewn with orange seams, eyes like butterflies in rivulets of pee, unmade and...