Thanh Tâm Tuyền | CONSTANT, THE LOVE POEMS IN TIMES OF SEPARATION (22)

By Thanh Tâm Tuyền, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm (Author´s blog) I As needed as the dawn your presence (to live without the dawn) I would wake up reading Nguyễn Du the sadness brimming in each rhythmic verse of six by eight beat at the end of the road upon dusk the verses I…

Commute – Corona Virus edition by Tina Cleveland

(Authors Site) Sitting down rapidly in a newly vacated seat, Stuart claimed his prize, a seat on the 8:00am tube to Shepherds Bush, a rarity for this time of day. Although he was usually a gentleman and would give his seat away to anybody, today he was not feeling so charitable.             9/11 changed everything…

poets and happy endings by Bogdan Dragos

“When you no longer see the shadow of what kept you strong it’s time to let go.” Those would be the last words he wrote at the back of the notebook he filled with thoughts and rants and poems ‘Thoughts That Come From The Heart’ was the title and the work will remain for long…

HIS PRINCESS by Terveen Gill

(Author´s site) I don’t know where I am. I was somewhere and now I’m nowhere. Time? What’s that? It used to be something, but now I can’t remember. Who am I? My name? A girl lived inside me, but now she’s gone. Lost? Or dead? No, she’s run away. Hiding. Waiting for the nightmare to…

A TEAR FOR MUSSOLINI by Mike Steeden

blog mikesteeden I hear you shed a tear for Mussolini how very little I knew of the workings of your mind on that night seed embraced egg Then later you, your heart in one hand a cigarette in the other your eight months tumescent belly a radiance I think was lost to you though not…

The world’s most creative people have this one thing in common

Researchers used artificial intelligence to study the careers of 4,500 directors, 70,000 scientists, and 2,000 artists. The most successful among them share an important trait. By Elissaveta M. Brandon4 minute Read When it comes to creative careers, success can be hard to achieve and even harder to define. But what if there were a magic…

If I were you by Tina Cleveland

(Author´s blog) “If I were you.” The words rung in Celeste’s ears. They were the words she had heard so many times, each time they undermined her integrity, her self-worth and her confidence. What ever she did it never stood up to the ‘If I were you’ author. She had spent her whole life trying…

Whispers of Light

by Daniela Topîrcean Souls, the sun has not gone out, the sky is blue the stars are shining, the music of the spheres continues to flow to infinity and the colours are more beautiful as ever. Let the pain flow, to go to pass. Do not try to say words. others expressed the words, our…

Reincarnation

by Petru Racolța From me to the stars,I pass through a field of cornflowers,And then I come back to youIncarnate in fine dust. I will sprinkle myself on the plain,Get over your blouse,Along a springAnd on your hair. You will breathe in me unknowingly,I will think of you,I will embrace your heartAnd in dreams, it…

Lost By Nguyễn Man Nhiên, translation by Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm

Autor´s Blog if paradise ever were layout in five rays of light an angel in human form a cut out from a Christmas card a fallen star tearing down a throat drowned in tears

A Little Excerpt: Westbury Falls by Sara Reichert

(author´s site) Good morning, readers. I was puzzling over what to post about this week and in the middle of editing one series, formatting and finishing a first rough draft of the poetry anthology, and trying to adjust to new school schedules, I thought–what would I like to read? Sorry to say, nothing on editing….

join in the silence by Bogdan Dragos

There was indeed silence now Oh, and it’s been but days since the screams cracked the windows and the thrown bottles stripped the walls of their paint and the curses made the gods cringe and cover their ears The house of madness no longer lived up to its name For she was finally gone and…

Honeysuckle Heat (episode 3)By Michele Lee

from (previous) Honeysuckle Heat… In their floating dream they remained until the first hint of morning burst over the distant mountains, causing them to dart from the water, grab their crumpled clothes, and sprint back to the house, laughing with each hurried step. Once inside, they fell onto his unmade bed, into each other’s arms,…

When I Close My Eyes by Terveen Gill

When I close my eyes, I see him. Not merry pictures of the past. But that final glimpse of him falling. I’m convinced I saw it happen. I want to believe that he wasn’t alone in his last seconds. My eyes had him covered, though they offered only horror. No outstretched hand, no gigantic leap,…

Like and Share

By mrobins71 Every day I read memes instructing me to “like and share if I agree.” Every day I receive memes about the plights, persecutions and woes of the elderly, the poor, fetuses, the planet, pets, political and religious affiliations and our troops. Every day I receive memes shared or forwarded by people I know…

WAIT FOR ME IN YOUR BODY by Manuel Calderon

for me on the edge of your boda without haste We will meet in the fire of this long night before dreams begin to fall asleep I will purify the air to breathe you on your neck and I will walk towards you free of impurities The sea has no paths woven into its bed…

In the end, it does not even matter

by Rana It was a long night before he was starting the engine of his car. A busy day ahead and the first thing to go through was usual morning traffic. No matter where you live, the crest of this elegance is what you observe every day. His eyes were gloomy; sleepless nights have evolved…

How Old are You Now?

by Manuela Timofte I have been told several times in the last years that I should dye my hair again. Why, was my question. To hide your age. Why should I hide my age? I didn’t steal the years, I lived them. How did I live them? As I knew. Therefore, who can tell you…

MUSIC IN SCARS

by Steve Clark 1. the white of our bones. our heads out the car window comets breaching our teeth bent with the bite of hexagons, tetrahedrons cacography of smoke whistling through our eyes tea leaves, bones, the skeleton of centuries laid bare ochre and yellow a fox’s bones toxic plasma singing hymns in ancient texts…

Marga Clark presents her new book Atisbos in Madrid

Marga Clark’s tenth collection of poems, Atisbos, in manner of a dialogue with the unsayable, revisits her themes of the brevity of time, disintegration and oblivion. The poems ignite our own darknesses, weave uncertain destinies, transform the imaginary into real, always leaning into the invisible. One of her poems whispers: I bleed to ashes. In another, she exhorts: The…