Sounds

by Marcello Comitini I want to give a name to my silences a sound reminiscent of harmony of a song accompanied by the night. The key to access the hidden secrets behind a wall of uncertainty. Scan the caesura and the reprises, the air of war, of hunting and chains behind a taut, resonant string….

Nguyễn Đức Sơn| One day (14)

One day when hate is nothing but a mist Blinding will be the Eastern stars across the night sky Father will return with sea and country in his arms Feet up, limbs abandoned The single vow of father and son will be to play day and night Chasing the ageless clouds Autumn bursting, grey hair…

LAMB

Illustration & Poetry by Tara Palov her eyes the shade of plums bruised by a careless man her palette he tossed like the scrapings of leftover lamb he fancied not her bones a reckless waste for her purpose was packed in the marrow

With Love

de Daniela Topîrcean I was doing exercises of balance on the waves of love, breeze breathes my anxiety in chest inflating its innocent sails and my words were lost in your silence in unknown thoughts, in immense-blue-uncertainty on which I was sailing by pirouettes alchemizing the waves painful, secret, a ballet of the soul mysterious…

Diary, 2019: Berkeley/Summit Hospital, Oakland

By Joyce Carol Oates From The Paris Review Diaries Photograph courtesy of Joyce Carol Oates. March 29, 2019Berkeley/Summit Hospital (Oakland) It is not true that for all persons the essential question is: Shall I commit suicide? But it is true for the widow. The placating fantasy, that makes possible those countless hours of bedside vigil….

transgressive fiction needs to make a comeback by Bogdan Dragos

he used to write those very intense works about human suffering and degeneracy and the corruption of good souls into evil criminals – Breaking Bad style He hated supranatural stuff in writing. Stayed away from it. “It’s just stupid,” he said. “There’s more than enough magic, both dark and light, into the human heart to…

A Dying Newspaper Promise by Terveen Gill

Tutu licked his index finger twice, not just the tip but the entire length of it. He then pressed it down on the paper and turned the page of the newspaper. His eyes barely read the words, but his tongue clicked its disapproval. Tchh! Tchh! That was the sound it made. More than a few…

Fair Exchange by M Robins

Fair Exchange The handyman came when he said he’d come. He came and painted the main bedroom. Half way through the work, she offered him a cold soft drink. He accepted, thanking her. As he worked, she asked him about his other jobs. She asked him about his wife and children and where they lived…

Stay in My Eyes

by Rana See-through curtains of idealistic dreams that strive every sense Shyness beneath each feeling which surrogates notions all at once Gaze at the stars and sing me some lyrics unknown, just for me I’d have all you bring no wonder what rain has beyond the fence It isn’t the heed I ever desired, don’t…

People have wings

by Petru Racolța People have wings raised inside, They only open at night, during sleep, Silently they carry them into Edenic worlds Or in the realms of hell, They lift them in the highest spheres, Or throw them into the dark abysses, As their day-to-day thoughts are And hopes crept into their heart. People have…

#Poetry: No Regrets… By Jane Aguiar

You hurt my heart, and denied my love. we were together for three years, yet the relationship broke down in an instant. You were bored as I was not texting and never showed interest in chatting. Now I have learned to send text and give time to you, but still my messages remain unseen. With…

Cat Riding through a Field of Rice on a Bicycle

by Patricia Furstenberg Shh, hums the rice, swaying with the wind, Whoosh, sings the breeze, warm and mild. Cling-cling-cling, the silver bell sings along While the bicycle runs along the road. A basket in the front. What’s inside? The air is sweet with cherry scent, The boy is careful at the bend. He knows the…

Let your Spirit take Flight! (dance)

By Michele Lee Grounded, I know how to be.Feet planted for        writing,           teaching,              listening,                 gardening,                    meditating,                       photographing,                          cooking and serving,                             bed-side tending,                                and for clothes and hearts that need mending. A responsible grown-up – you can count on memost of the timeI am a focused woman moving through tasksbut sometimesI must toss aside those form-fitting hatsand slip into the little girl who wore pink…

NO SHADOW WITHOUT LIGHT by Luke Gracias

(@devils_prayer) Adventure, history, fabulous international locations, and a strong environmental message #adventures By OlgaNuñez i Miret (Blog Olga) Hi all: I bring you the second part of a novel I read quite a few years back, but one I still remembered and wanted to know how it would all end up. No Shadow Without Light…

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https://masticadores.com/

to feel romantic about the writer’s block

By Bogdan Dragos 48 days without a word written maybe there weren’t exactly 48 but he liked to feel romantic about his writer’s block A good period of writer’s block is one that makes you write about what an incapable writer you are perhaps tomorrow, he thought as he came out of the bathroom and…

Diary, 2010

By Adam Levin (From: https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/) In our Spring issue, we published selections from Annie Ernaux’s 1988 diaries, which chronicle the affair that served as the basis for her memoir Simple Passion. To mark the occasion, the Review has begun asking writers and artists for pages from their diaries, along with brief postscripts. Dear Levin, No one wants…

No Longer His Girlfriend by Terveen Gill

I’m the girlfriend. Or was. He’s dead now. There was a funeral. I wasn’t invited. We lived together, laughed together, doing everything a normal couple was expected to do. He was twenty years older. So what. I was twenty years younger. It wasn’t as if we were competing with each other. If he had stuck…

Midlife Crisis by MRobins

Midlife Crisis My midlife crisis began with my illness. My illness set me back. My illness reflected my mortality back at me. I recovered, but it wasn’t easy. My condition was a reminder that I was no longer so young and invincible. I recovered from my illness. I recovered to return to a job I…

If I touch her

by Rana I had not contrived to perceive the hypnosis of her eyes, though And her sumptuous voice sailed straight to the bottom of my heart Suddenly I am dropped in her enchantment of blossom all at once A billion notions to paraphrase her sublime beauty but where to start Her tantalizing mesmerism inspires my…